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“I’ll figure it out. I always do.” I shrug.
She blinks and gets back to eating her breakfast. “Of course you will.”
The last thing I want is for Chevelle to feel sorry for me when she’s the one who went through such a huge ordeal with Derek.
“How are you really?” I broach the subject again, thinking maybe she’ll be more open now that I’ve opened up a bit.
She rises from the chair and takes her plate to the sink, rinses it, and puts it in the dishwasher. “Fine. Why?”
“I mean from Mandi’s wedding. Chevelle, if you need to talk to someone…” I finish my own meal and meet her at the sink.
“I told you, I’m fine. I just always seem to pick jerks.” She walks to the other side of the room and picks up her cooler. “Do you want a ride or are you going to walk?”
“I’ll take a ride as long as you don’t mind Gunner coming along too.”
Hearing his name through the screen door, he perks up and whines at the back door.
“Are you kidding? He’s more welcome than you.” She lets him in, and they head to the front door.
Chevelle has always prided herself on keeping her emotions to herself. There were years of therapy after her mom’s accident, and Fisher would tell me about the nightmares she endured. How no one could convince her not to blame herself for what had happened. And I know that still to this day, the guilt is there inside her, along with the grief. I wish I could unleash her from the pain, but I have no idea how.
I head out of the house, locking it behind me. Gunner is in the front seat.
Chevelle rolls down the window. “Gunner called shotgun.”
“Like hell. Get in the back.”
Gunner tucks his tail and walks through the center of the two seats and lies down in the back.
“So bossy.” She shakes her head.
“You should see me in bed.” The statement comes out naturally and I’m not imagining the way her cheeks redden.
I think someone might be thinking about me bossing her around in bed. Good. Because it’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about since I moved in, and I can’t help but feel like we’re reaching a breaking point.
* * *
A text from my dad on the way over tells me he has three-day charters booked for this weekend. What happened to me getting the business and starting it from scratch? He just can’t find it in himself to trust me.
We arrive at the marina, and instead of heading to the air-conditioned offices, I’m heading to a luxury fishing boat.
“Have a good day.” Chevelle smiles, continuing to her own boat. “Must be someone important to get that slip.” She glances over her shoulder at my new boat.
“I have demons in high places.”
She laughs.
Gunner follows her until I whistle, and he returns back to me. We board the boat, and in the wheelhouse, I turn on my computer. I need a name, a social media presence, and a logo. I take out a pad of paper and make a to-do list.
For the majority of the day, I hammer out the details of what I need in order to be out from under my dad’s thumb. It’s about time I do something for myself. Who would’ve thought the best thing I could’ve done for myself was knock out Derek Latrell?
I decide to take a break, walk the docks, and take Gunner to the grass along the side to do his business. Chevelle returns with what I’m surprised to find is a group of three women. She’s laughing with them as they dock.
“Oh, do you ever have some eye candy out here,” one of them says.
“That’s just my brother’s best friend,” Chevelle says.
I’m oddly offended by Chevelle’s remark but happy that her clients like what they see.
