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He doesn’t object to me being on his boat, putting his coffee on the ledge in his wheelhouse as I predicted. He picks up a towel and wipes down the seats and benches. “I’m not ready to talk about it just yet.”
“Okaaay.” Although I’m dying to know, I act indifferent.
“I gotta grab a new rag. I’ll be right back.”
He goes to the galley of the boat, and I go over to pour the liquid laxative into his coffee. Just a splash so he can’t successfully navigate today’s charters. I don’t want him getting really sick.
Maybe I should let this go. Say we’re even after the two instances. But I just know I’ve lost Heidi and her gang forever, and even if I don’t particularly like the people, money is money. And everyone thought the prank was so funny.
“Sorry, Cam.” I pour in a small amount of liquid. I don’t want him shitting his pants or anything.
He comes back up with two rags.
“I better go. I have an early charter too. Thanks for the coffee and muffin.” I raise my cup.
He smiles. “It was a nice walk.”
“It was. Catch you later.”
“Good luck today,” he says.
“You too.” I barely keep the grin off my face.
I walk down the pier and over to my boat. I watch Cam the whole time, thankful when I see him take a break and sip his coffee.
Smiling to myself, I wait for the fun to begin. At least for me.
15
“I LIKE THIS VIEW.”
Chevelle
I keep looking at Cam’s boat, and he’s yet to run to the bathroom, from what I can tell. He’s been casually sitting in his wheelhouse on his phone with his feet propped up, drinking his coffee. The coffee I put the laxative in.
I open my bag and yes, it was the right bottle.
Having no choice but to leave when my charter arrives, he waves at me as we’re leaving. “Safe trip.” His smile is so wide, it tells me I’m missing something.
I wave back.
“Is that Cameron Baker?” the dad on the charter asks.
“It is.” Most of our charter guests come from out of town, but this family said they just wanted a day away and made the impromptu decision two days ago to book my charter. Thankfully, I was available. “How do you know him?”
“He and his friend come to me all the time. He’s watching his friend more often than not.”
The mom lowers her book. “My husband’s a tattoo artist. Owns Smokin’ Guns in Lake Starlight.”
I nod. “Oh yeah. I think I’ve heard of it.”
“Does he have a younger brother?” The teenage daughter is practically hanging out of the boat, looking back at the pier.
I laugh. “Sorry, only child.”
The mom looks up from her book again. “And that man is way too old for you, sweetie.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” the girl asks.
