Page 62 of All Yours

“Yeah, I’m okay too,” Sebastian said, hobbling towards us.

“I don’t care,” I called to him, then turning to Jonah. “I’m glad you’re not hurt. But I cannot believe you just did that. Do you know how humiliating this is? There are people over there with cameras watching us. This is going to be all over the news. You didn’t help things at all.”

“What?” Jonah asked, taking a step back. “I was defending you.”

“You were defending yourself with all that macho crap,” I said, trying to keep my voice low. Sound traveled across the water, and I didn’t want to give those filming back on land even more.

“But…” Jonah stammered, appearing lost for words.

“It was uncalled for, dude,” Sebastian said. He, too, soaked through and splattered with splotches of paint.

“And you,” I stepped around Jonah and headed for Sebastian. “You, coming here, was uncalled for. I’ve been here, living under a different name for years because I wanted to escape from the public scrutiny and live a quiet life. I don’t want to be in your book or your documentary or talk about you ever again. Did you ever consider that?”

From the screwed-up expression on his face, he hadn’t. And that didn’t surprise me.

“I can tell my—”

“Shut it,” I snapped before I could stop myself. If I had to hear about how he could tell his story one more time. “You’ve destroyed my peaceful life because you needed to feel relevant again. You didn’t care about how this would affect me after all these years. You never considered my feelings, only how I could make you some more money. And I never want to see or hear anything from you ever again. You got that?” I turned and marched past both men, leaving them standing on the dock.

Chapter Twenty-One

Jonah

Temperatures plummeted overnight bringing the first frost. The silvery tipped grass glistened in the sunrise over Hart Lake. The bitter coffee burned my taste buds as I sipped it while it was still far too hot. I sat at the table under the blue canopy in my makeshift on-site command center sore from head-to-toe reviewing the schedule.

Camden pulled into the lot in his Maserati, that was out of place in this town. It was a small SUV type of car, but it still screamed more expensive than pretty much every other car in town. But if he noticed, he didn’t care. Despite the flash that wasn’t my style, he’d turned out to be a standup guy.

“What brings you by on this fine morning?” I asked as he approached, bundled in what appeared to be a winter snow parka fit for the ski slopes. “You look like you’re about to go on an expedition to the North Pole.”

“When did we move to the frozen tundra?”

“You might be exaggerating.” A smile threatened the corners of my mouth.

“I hate cold.”

“Warm up by the space heater,” I said, with a nod. “First time I’ve fired it up this season for me and not the concrete.”

“Winter’s come early,” he said, moving over to the heater and holding his hands out to the warmth radiating from it. “Don’t you think it’s time to put a trailer out here?”

“No need. Don’t sweat it, it’ll be seventy again by Christmas.”

“So, I heard you went for the middleweight championship last night.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, returning my attention to the screen.

“Sloane wasn’t all that thrilled with the tough guy act, either. And it doesn’t really suit you.” Camden held his hands in front of the heater.

“We aren’t talking about this.”

“You know it’s on all the gossip blogs—”

“Drop it, Carter,” I barked.

“Did she banish you back to your place?”

“No.” She’d threatened to but relented. She still wanted me in her bed. Thank God. I’d spent the night apologizing for my ‘barbaric’ behavior. All I’d wanted was to protect her.

“How’s the schedule coming along?” he asked, thankfully changing the subject.

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