Page 17 of Baring it All (Men in Charge)

A boat approaches me while I bop in the water. A sitting duck in an ocean full of sharks isn’t my idea of fun, and I’m thankful they’re not delaying like that fuck Smith.

“You okay?” a man asks when the boat is close enough.

“Shoulder took the brunt of it, but I’m fine.” More pissed off than anything else. He lowers the ladder on the backside of the boat, and I couldn’t be more fucking thankful.

“Yeah, that shit was not easy to watch.” He can say that again.

“Appreciate you picking me up. You got a medic on board?” I ask, using my good arm to help propel me up.

“We do, but it’ll have to wait. We need to get out of here, and quick.” It’s then I see the fire licking at the wrecked boats. Racing fuel is going to make things go boom quickly. I nod my response, take a seat in an open one, and we’re racing against time until the boats will explode.

“No problem. Probably better to have this taken a look at by a doctor before paperwork needs to be done,” I say more for myself, but the other guy shakes his head in disgust, more than likely over the paperwork. Meanwhile, I’m wondering how I’m going to explain what happened to Stormy while simultaneously keeping her calm. Good fucking luck with that. So much for getting home tonight. The amount of red tape will guarantee that won’t be happening. I’ll be lucky to call or text her. My phone is in that helicopter, and if the way the helicopter was handled is anything to go by, well, I may as well kiss it goodbye.

20

STORMY

The past few days have sucked. Griff and I have been missing each other, not just emotionally either. Believe me, I am there. Never in my life did I think I’d miss a man as much as I miss him. Nope, he’d miss my text, I’d miss his call, and him leaving a voicemail didn’t alleviate the longing. Instead, I saved it, replaying it at night before going to bed in order to hear his voice. I didn’t leave him a voicemail back. I sent a video of Finn and myself on the couch saying we can’t wait for Monday. Even if I’m lying through my teeth. Not about Griff coming home, but for me, it means I’ve got to face work and really set foot back in town.

“Dang it, Finn. We missed Griff again,” I talk to the fluffy Golden Retriever out loud, seeing the text from the man himself. When Finn woke up at his standard time, I groaned in protest. The sleep I hoped for to come last night didn’t happen. There was no amount of reading to make me tired enough either. I tossed and turned so much even Finn left the comfort of the bed, choosing his place on the couch instead. I nab my phone, hit the reply button, and send him a text.

Me: I can’t wait. See you soon.

Finn barks, making his displeasure known. Whether it’s about Griff remains unknown. It is his kibble time, so I’m sure that’s the reason.

“Alright, I’ll get your food ready, then my coffee.” I go the fridge to pull out the sliced-up fruit I’ve been adding to Finn’s dry dog food, my creamer, and then go to the pantry to finish off his breakfast. Griff says I spoil him. I don’t agree. Finn was spoiled long before I came along. The only difference is, now he’s living a healthier lifestyle with more walks.

The clanging of the dog food and fruit hits the metal bowl. Finn sits like the king he is until I give him the words he’s used to. “Good boy.” He gives me his paw, and then he’s chowing down. I leave him to his morning ritual and head to the coffee pot, trying to figure out what we should do today. Groceries are ready for the week, the house is clean, and I’ve been slowly unpacking my things to set around the house. My books are now in the once sparse wood built-ins, a natural wood tone like a lot of the furniture Griff has in his house, well, our house. It’s not the usual white and blue style house you see in most beach houses. It’s homey, lived in, and relaxed. Which is probably why my books came out of the boxes faster than I intended them to. I was worried this wouldn’t last, but those are unfounded. Seriously, Griff has shown me in more than one what it’s like to truly be cared for in the terms of a stable man. My father obviously wasn’t one of those, and Zach, well, you see what happens when you settle.

I make my cup of coffee, put a healthy dose of creamer in Griff’s mug. One that has Finn’s face plastered all over it. A gift from Jack on Father’s Day, the year he picked up Finn.

“Maybe I’ll call Mom and see what she’s up to today.” I blow the steam out of my coffee mug before taking my first sip. I make my way out of the kitchen and walk through the living room. Seeing my things mingled with Griff’s hits me deep inside my chest. My feather display is the only thing that needs to be put on the shelf, and since it needs to go on the top, I’m shit out of luck. Even with a kitchen chair I can’t reach, and no way am I going to try and lug the ladder inside from the garage only to smash the ceiling fan.

I continue my walk, hearing Finn come up beside me, so I open the back door, and he wedges his way out first. “How rude. Someone is forgetting their manners.” Another plus with all my infinite amount of time while not working is at least I’ve got Finn to keep me company, and I’m not completely bat shit crazy talking to myself. It’s not like he responds to the crazy, could still be up for debate, but this way, I’m not inundating Mom and Aunt Cat to keep me busy. Finn wanders off, and I take my seat under the covered patio. An overhead fan spins above, doing a smidgen of good in the heat and humidity. I’d like to say after summer, it cools down a lot, but the truth of the matter is, it’s not until mid-fall that we see a cooler temperature.

I tuck myself into one of the cushioned chairs, drink my coffee, and stare off at the ocean. In another hour or so, the beach will start filling up, chatter will be carried through the sand dunes, the tips of canopies will make it hard to see the waves hitting the shore, and one day, I hope it’s us down there with a family of our own.

“Finn, what are you doing, crazy boy?” He’s running through the yard in circles, getting his zoomies out of the way. It’s funny the way he’ll run and run and run only to pass out ten minutes later. Literally, the big lug won’t move from his spot for hours, not even when a delivery man is at the door. Finn settles next to my feet once he’s done, and if we don’t get inside, he’ll demand to stay our here forever. That’s not happening once the sun fully peaks and the hottest part of the day hits. “Come on, boy, it’s time to go inside.” I take another couple of sips of my coffee, knowing one cup is my limit, and if I make a second cup, it’ll sit on the counter, cold. We head back inside, for the couch, Finn in one corner, me in the other as I stretch my legs out. I’ve soon got the television on some reality train wreck of a show, the blanket is thrown over my body, and I’m drifting to sleep.

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A shrillof laughter wakes me up from a dead sleep. I look everywhere thinking someone is in the house only to realize it was the television. My eyes are still adjusting to the light, which is a lot dimmer than what I expected. Finn has moved closer to me, burrowing under the blanket, and is breathing on my calf. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been snoring.

“Fuck,” I mumble. The sun is low, and I’ve slept all freaking day. Finn lifts his head as I scramble off the couch. Griff is supposed to be home sometime tonight, and I’d at least like to have dinner cooked in case he comes back hungry. I’m looking for my phone, not remembering where I left it earlier this morning. My bladder screams at me in protest, and Finn is now up, pacing back and forth. I run to the sliding glass door and fling it open, not wanting to have to clean up two accidents. I leave it open, run through the kitchen, see my phone on the counter, and snatch it up.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I’ve got a missed call from Griff along with three texts sent in succession an hour ago.

Griff: Going to be late getting home.

Griff: Never mind. It’s going to be tomorrow. I’m stuck doing paperwork because of an incident.

Griff: Baby girl, you okay?

The last one came a while after the second text, and Griff knows I’m by my phone, especially after we met. I forget about needing to use the bathroom, immediately hitting Griff’s number, praying I’ll get an answer. The knowledge that I won’t is at the forefront of my mind. If he’s got a problem going on, the last thing he’s going to do is answer. The call rings, once, twice, three times, and then goes to voicemail. He's obviously busy. I hit the end button. Ugh, I’m so pissed at myself. The need to not be clingy is thrown out the window.

Me: I’m sorry I missed your call. Please tell me everything is okay and call me later if you get a chance. Finn and I were taking a nap. I now understand why he loves the couch so much <3

Griff doesn’t respond, and that sucks even more. This time, I keep my phone on me, even though I’m going to use the bathroom. The damn thing will be glued to my hand from now until eternity.

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