Page 37 of Shine For Me

I snort at that. It’s not a relationship at all. “Adam can sleep with whoever he wants.”

“And what about you?”

My head snaps in his direction, but he’s not looking at me. His gaze is locked on the ocean. Something about the tense set of his jaw has butterflies erupting in my belly. “I, um, I guess it’s the same for me.” I suppose it sounds better than admitting that I’ve been celibate for so long I could probably be reclassified as a virgin and the mere thought of being with a guy just makes me feel…tired.

Finally, Fox turns back to me and my breath catches. I’m not exactly sure what I’m seeing in his eyes, but it has my heart rate kicking up and those butterflies in my stomach batting their wings more furiously.

“June,” he begins, and my breath catches.

“How’s it going out here?” the captain calls, making me jump. There’s a clatter as he hauls several long fishing rods out to the back of the boat. “We’re getting close, so we need to go over some things.”

The widows join us out on the deck and from the waft of whiskey I get when they step outside, I’m pretty sure they added a healthy amount of booze to the coffee we were given. “That can’t possibly be safe,” Fox mutters in my ear. “I think Doris is hammered.”

“Nah,” I whisper back. “These ladies are tough old broads. I bet they can hold their liquor.”

The captain claps his hands to draw our attention. “Let’s go over some procedures here,” he says. “Today we’re on the look-out for marlin and sailfish. It’s not peak time for tuna yet, but we might just get lucky.” He smacks the shoulder of a younger crew member. “Now, Jared here is going to show you all how to get your lines in the water and what to do if you get a bite.”

Deep sea fishing is a lot more intense than I was expecting. It’s not the lazy, throw a bobber in the water and snooze type of activity I always pictured. The fish out here are massive and require quick movement and a hell of a lot of upper body strength to get into the boat. Fox gets the first bite and the crew helps him to get stabilized so he can concentrate on reeling it in.

“Fuck, I’m not going to need my workout this week,” he grunts. His face is turning red with the effort, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. I would probably find that a turn on if I wasn’t so distracted by his arms. He pushed his sweatshirt sleeves up before he started reeling in the fish, giving me an eyeful of bronzed, corded forearms. Watching them flex and twist while he brings the fish in is enough to make me wish for a cold shower.

“You hitting that?” Doris asks, and I choke on my own spit.

“Jesus, woman, could you be a little more classy?” one of her friends—Peggie, I think—scolds her. “You can’t just ask complete strangers if they’re fornicating.”

Now I’m coughing. Hard.Fornicating?

“Well look at them!” Doris says, slapping her hand on her knee. “They’re both young and attractive.” She eyes Fox, who’s still working the fishing pole. I had no idea it took so long to reel in a fish but I can’t pretend like I’m not enjoying every second of the show he’s putting on.

Ginger lets out a sigh. “You should definitely get on that if you haven’t already,” she says glumly. “If I was twenty years younger, I’d show that man what’s what.”

“If you were twenty years younger you’d still be fifty-five,” Peggy scoffs.

Ginger grins. “I’m told some young men like their women older. Panthers, they call them.”

“Cougars,” I cut in. “They call them cougars.”

Ginger smacks my back so hard I take an involuntary step forward. “See? It’s a thing. I read about it on the internet.”

Peggy sneers. “We don’t need to hear about your porn habits, you hussy.” She shakes her head. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I can’t take them anywhere.”

My stomach hurts from the effort it takes not to laugh. I wish Fox was hearing this.

Or at least, I did, right up until Peggy turns to me. “All crudeness aside, sweetheart, you should absolutely find a way to lock that man down as soon as humanly possible.” She lowers her bejeweled cat eye sunglasses to gaze at him. “That is a fine, fine man you have there.”

“We’re just friends,” I say, and all of the nearby widows let out a collective snort of derision.

“Then you’re far more stupid than you look, honey.”

“I’ll tell you what to do,” Doris cuts in. “The next time the two of you are having relations, you just accidentally forget to use your diaphragm.” I stare at her in mute horror while she gives me an exaggerated wink. Diaphragm? Is that even a thing anymore? And why in the hell am I talking about it with a seventy-five-year-old widow from Jersey City?

“It’s not a bad plan,” Ginger agrees. “Get yourself into a family way.” Another exaggerated wink. “That’s how I got my Steven to propose.”

“Psh,” Doris sneers. “Your Steven told my Paul that he married you because you suck like a hoover.”

The old women burst into laughter and I can’t tell if I want to join them—or be completely horrified. They definitely had some booze in their coffee. Or maybe this is just how they always are, which is pretty terrifying to consider.

Luckily Fox chooses that minute to pull in his fish and the crew, as well as the widows not gathered up with us, burst into applause. Immediately his eyes come to me, a huge smile stretching his face. His expression is boyish and so freaking happy that my heart aches with affection. “Aw, sweetie,” Peggy says at my side. “You have it bad, don’t you?”