Reason Is You (9781101576151) (13 page)

“Holy crap,” I sputtered.

Bob gave in and let out the laugh. “I heard the screams, thought I’d come check.”

“That was him,” I said, pointing.

Jason sat up and gave me a look, then managed a laugh through his recovery. He swiped a hand through his wet hair, then got to
his feet. He held out a hand for me, but I was already on my way up, courtesy of the minnow tank.

“What a mess,” I said. “Is there a drain in here?” I surveyed the concrete floor.

“There is, but it’s old. It’ll drain slow,” Bob said as he pointed at some random holes.

“It’s done this before?” Jason asked.

“Once or twice.”

“Great.”

Bob and Jason surveyed the water pump and the health status of the shrimp while I plucked up random floating garbage.

“I’m gonna run home and shower this funk off me if you don’t mind,” I said, drawing attention back to me. “You should, too, this reeks.”

I pointed to his soaked clothes that clung to his body. Then following his gaze, I looked down at myself and instantly brought my arms up. My drenched thin white shirt and equally thin white bra now outlined everything. In vivid detail.

Bob quickly excused himself and wobbled away, while Jason, who was only a foot away, lifted his gaze to my face.

“That might be a good idea. Need a jacket?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Cute. No, thanks. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

But then he raised a hand to my hair, which temporarily paralyzed me until he pulled away a shrimp whisker.

“Oh God.” I cringed and attacked my hair.

“Wait.” He brushed fingers against my right cheek. “Was that me or the hose?”

I touched the bruise gingerly. “Same guy that got you.”

Taking his cue of brave moves, I touched the side of his neck softly where a giant red welt raised.

“It’s okay, I’m good.”

“Hit you pretty hard.”

He smiled. “I’ll live.” His eyes fell to my shirt again, which this time was only inches away. “Go get changed.”

I slogged into the house, met by Bo and his very curious nose. He stuck to my leg as I stopped short at the foot of the stairs, when I noticed Riley curled up in my dad’s ragged brown recliner.

“Hey, boog, whatcha doin’?”

She looked up from the album in her lap, and then did a double take. “My God, Mom, did you fall in the river?” Then she put a hand to her nose. “Or the sewer?”

“Neither. The shrimp vat had some issues. Why are you still home?”

“Am I not supposed to be?”

Bojangles let out a loud snort against my thigh, then swung his tail hard as he appeared to grin up at me.

“Don’t you work now?”

“At noon.” She gestured toward an old wall pendulum clock. “It’s only eight fifteen, Mom.”

I rubbed my face and winced at the contact with my cheek. “Is that all?” I pointed at the yellowish brown photo album. “What’s this?”

She shrugged. “Thought I’d blow some time with a nostalgia kick, but this one was on top of the other ones.” She nodded toward the wall of shelves that had every nuance of our lives. “Don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

Neither did I. And I had made them all. The one she held was older and unfamiliar.

“What’s in it?”

She flipped a few pages carefully. “Most of them are black and white. Old people pictures.”

“Really?” I sat on the arm, then remembered my state and got back up.

She flipped back. “Looks like Pop when he was young, see? And your mom?”

Funny how calling her Grandma or something similar was as foreign to Riley as “Mom” was to me. Hard to name someone you’ve never met.

I’d seen old pictures of my parents before, even a few of these pictures. But not in an album like this, with notes and comments like my baby album had.

“Put it in my room when you’re done, okay? I want to look at it later.”

“When you’re not covered in shrimp slime?”

“Pretty much.”

Bo jammed his nose into my crotch right then, and that was enough.

“Seriously! Go eat something!”

I must have been at least semi-menacing, because he semi-ducked.

“Hey, can I go hang out with Grady after work?”

“Grady?”

“Mm-hmm.” She continued to slow-turn the pages. I stood there and waited her out. “I’m not gonna look up for you to make this cute, so you may as well give it up.”

“Then you don’t want to go badly enough.”

That got me the look I so richly deserved. “Mom?”

“There, I feel better now.”

“God, you’re so weird.”

My shower was too quick to really enjoy, but I refused to throw my hair up and go again. I blew it out and dressed at least in jeans. Then grabbed the mascara on the way out.

Of course, Alex waited at my car. I looked back over my shoulder.

“Riley’s in there.”

He held up his hands. “And I’m not doing circus tricks.”

“Well then, feel free to get in, because I’ve got to get back to work.”

I grimaced as my door groaned so loudly I thought it might jump off and die.

“Such dedication,” Alex said with a grin as he just—ended up in the front seat. I prayed that Riley didn’t see that.

“So—bored today, are you?”

He looked me over with that sideways sexy way of his and I tried not to listen to my libido.

“Aren’t you just all fresh and perky for work in the
middle
of the morning?” he asked, then frowned as he leaned forward. “What happened to your face?”

I putzed down the gravel road that led off the property. “The shrimp vat blew a hose and flooded the bait room. I was in the way.”

“I didn’t realize you had such a dangerous job,” he said with a crooked grin.

“Me, either,” I said on a laugh. “Ugh, the whole back is drowned in funk.”

“Was it just you?”

“Me and Jason.”

I refused to look. I swear, I felt his eyebrows raise, and I wouldn’t look at him. It reminded me of Riley just moments earlier, and suddenly I felt her pain.

“Jason. That was the Nazi, right?”

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “Yeah.”

There was a pause. “You didn’t look this good the first go-round this morning.”

I frowned at him. “Thanks. And you weren’t here this morning.”

He shrugged and looked forward. “Hmm.”

I shook my head. “Some people call that stalking, you know.”

“They don’t have a sense of adventure.”

I laughed. “Oh, okay.”

We were nearly to the shop when a memory hit me.

“Hey, remember those old family pictures? Of my mom and dad?”

He pulled out his sunglasses and put them on. God help me. “In your box?”

“No, the other ones. They were just loose. Come to think of it, I never did know where they came from. I guess my dad just had them out—handed them to me.” I shook my head. “I can’t remember.”

“Don’t know. Why?”

I flipped a hand to wave it off. “Riley just had an old album I don’t remember seeing before.”

Alex looked at me. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm. I’ll check it out tonight if I don’t fall into a coma first.”

He randomly touched buttons on the dashboard console that did nothing. “So, what’s the deal with Jason?”

“He’s my boss.”

“And?”

I feigned major interest in a road sign. “There is no
and
. That’s all.”

I felt his eyes bore a hole in the side of my head, but I swore to hold out. My right ear started to twitch.

“Hmm.”

Thankfully, we arrived, and in typical Alex fashion, he gave me a sideways almost smile and walked around the side of the building as I went in. I took a deep breath and pulled my head back to the world everyone else lives in. I strolled in for the second time that morning and threw a casual smile out to Jason and two female customers who were clearly throwing pheromones to him.

“I’m back. You can go.”

The ladies turned around with an expression like I’d just killed their dog. They were obviously immune to the smell. Jason looked a little grateful for the interruption, which I had to laugh about a little inside.

“They want to book a fishing trip for their boyfriends,” he said, nodding at the schedules he had on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He gave me a once-over as he began his exit. “You look better this time around.”

Geez. “Get going, will you?”

He laughed and was out the door before the two women could bat their highly packed eyelashes.

“Okay,” I asked, “So are the guys serious fishermen, or just want to go have a good time?”

I got blankness.

“If it’s serious, they won’t have a good time?” the blonde with pink stilettos finally asked.

“Of course. If they are into the fishing, that in itself is a good time,” I responded. “But if they aren’t into meticulous fishing and high-tech tips, and want something more casual and laid back, then I’ll know how to match them with a guide.” Yin or yang. Jiminy or Hank.

“Mark’ll want the real deal,” the brunette with drawn eyebrows and D cups said as she fished out a red leather wallet from her Dior clutch. “He can do casual on his own.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said the blonde. “Tony’ll roll with it.”

I nodded and pulled Jiminy’s book out on top. “Will this be paid together or separate?”

Brunette looked at blonde. “I’ll get this, and you get the body wrap and wax this afternoon.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” I echoed. Wow.

I took care of three more bait orders, which I did very carefully since the room still had about an inch of standing water. Then I had a bright idea to aim an oscillating fan down that hallway to send the smell the other direction. Jason would think that was smart.

And that thought halted me as I stooped to plug it in. Why did I care what Jason thought? Maybe because being sprawled on top of him earlier was the closest thing I’d had to sex in years. Maybe I needed to break the other hose.

Lord.

Jiminy came by. Lisa Marlow and her giant son came by, which was actually helpful because without Jason, I needed some muscle to move some feed. Fifteen other people came by. Still no Jason.

After two hours, I started to wonder. Was he so high maintenance that it took him that long to get ready? Surely not. Was he the type to ditch responsibility and think of ten other things to do before returning? He didn’t strike me as irresponsible. He struck me as anal. He was so OCD on rules and procedures, I couldn’t imagine he’d just bail.

I didn’t have his cell phone number. Well, I guess technically I did somewhere on a random piece of paper from the fender bender. But I wouldn’t be able to find that again if my life depended on it. I dug around the counter a little, looked on the board by the register, for a Post-it or something that might sport his number. Nothing.

Three o’clock, my quitting time, came and went. Something was definitely not right.

I picked up the phone to let Riley know I’d be late—when there it was on speed dial.

JM HOME

“Well, kiss my ass.”

My elation was short-lived, however, because the number rang unanswered till it rolled to voice mail.

“Jason. Leave a message.”

“Hello? This is Dani. That’s one heck of a shower you took. Are you okay? Are you even hearing this?”

Crap.

I went ahead and called Riley and Dad, then dialed Jason at least twenty more times as I fumbled with the afternoon register report and counted the money. Because the later it got, and the more empty ringtones I listened to, the more agitated I got. And the more worried I got. Not sure why I was worried about a man I barely knew, except that it seemed very out of character from what I could tell.

My mommy paranoia began to build, with images of his pristine pampered car rolled into the river, or wheels up in the big ditch around the corner. I worried he would boil to death in a too-hot shower. Lying there alone. Wet. And naked.

And that’s when I knew just how pathetic I’d become. And that I was closing early at—I glanced at my watch—4:24.

I checked the bait vats and sloshy floor, kept the fan on, bagged the report and the money, put it in the safe I’d been told about under threat of death and dismemberment by Marg, and locked the door behind me. Anyone in need of bait or feed or Miss Olivia’s soaps that desperately in the next hour and a half needed a life more than I did.

Halfway down Jason’s road, my stomach tightened. What did I expect to find? What right did I even have to go check? When the boat
and car
came into view, however, my head went back to the shower scene. And not the pleasant version.

“S
HIT.
”

I slammed my car into park, ignoring its rock-and-roll groan,
and broke into a trot down the narrow dock. There was an old bell on a pull string on a wooden pole. My hands shook as I yanked on it, sending the thing into a frenzy. I already had the next plan in play as I scoped out the boarding ramp leading to his door.

I abandoned the useless bell—because obviously if he was dead or dying, what the hell good would the stupid bell do—I boarded the ramp, crawled over the rail, and gave one cursory look toward the water as I knocked and grabbed the lever at the same time.

The door swung open out of my hand as I recoiled and just about swallowed my tongue.

“Jesus, Dani, what the hell?”

Jason stood there with a wild and somewhat bewildered expression.

“Um, exactly!” I sputtered.

“What?”

I rubbed at my face and then patted my chest, telling my heart to slow down.

“Shit, I thought something happened to you. I thought you died in the shower or something.” Then I caught a whiff and wrinkled my nose. “Then again—”

His face went dark and he turned from the doorway. “I never made it there.”

Okay. Didn’t know bathing was so stressful. I felt awkward and uninvited there in the doorway, as he fiddled with mail on the table. A quick look around told me that it wasn’t a typical bachelor pad on a boat. He’d made it a home. The small wooden table to the right held a three-wick candle in a pewter bowl. A tray of mail and a brown paper–wrapped package sat to one end. Built-in shelves framed a window, and held a multitude of books and pictures. Beyond that appeared to be a small efficient kitchen, and the walls I could see from where I stood sported a variety of more photographs. Black and white, mostly.