“Headed to the pool?” Doc eyed her robe now.
“That’s what I’m hoping everyone thinks,” she said above the sound of music and laughter. “Truth is, all my clothes are in the wash.”
Doc was in the middle of sucking on his beer and lowered it to the bar with athud. “You’re telling me you’re in the raw under there?” His jaw hung open just a bit.
The man who was sitting on the stool next to Doc craned his head around and gave Alex a considering once-over. Then he smiled flirtatiously, and Alex instinctively grinned in return. When the guy swung back around, it was to find Doc frowning at him loudly enough to strip the paint from the walls. “Time to call it a night?” Doc asked him, or rathergrowled.
The man made a strangled sound, dropped a five-spot on the bar for the bartender, and quickly hopped up to disappear into the crowd.
“Well, how about that?” Doc patted the empty stool beside him. “A seat just opened up.”
“Poor guy,” Alex mused as she snagged the vacated spot. “He’ll probably see you in his nightmares for weeks.”
Doc ignored her, hitching his chin toward her robe instead. “Better keep that thing cinched tight. Don’t want you falling out and then me having to fight off a crowd of horny men.”
“Please.” Alex rolled her eyes, snagging a menu from behind the bar. “I don’t see anyone with magnifying glasses in here. So even if I fell out, I’d be safe from unwanted advances.”
Doc eyed her quizzically. “In case you didn’t know it, a boob is a boob is a boob. We men like them all. And I’m sure yours are nicer than most.”
Alex folded down the menu and gave Doc her most winning smile. “Why, Doc, that might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
He snorted and pointed the neck of his beer bottle at her. “If that’s true, you need to get out more.”
“I’ve beentrying.” She huffed at the same moment the bartender appeared in front of her. “Do you recommend the cheeseburger or the patty melt?” she asked the short, stout gentleman wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a straw fedora. “I’m so hungry I could eat the ass out of a low-flying buzzard.”
When the bartender blinked, Doc offered an explanation. “You’ll have to excuse her. I’m pretty sure she suffers from low blood sugar.”
“The cheeseburger gives you more bang for your buck.” The bartender tossed a bar towel over his shoulder.
“Great.” Alex nodded. “I’ll take a cheeseburger with a side of fries. And a bourbon. Neat. On second thought, make it a double. I’ve had myself a day.”
The bartender poured her drink and then scurried off to put in her food order. After he was gone, Doc said, “You can tell me to mind my own damn business, but what’s giving you the most fits? What happened out on the water? Or what happened this evening with Mason and Donna?”
“The latter. Definitely the latter.” Then visions of the former flipped through her mind like a movie reel and she clapped a hand over her mouth. To her dismay, a little bleating sound escaped her throat and she shook her head. “Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe being mad at Mason is easier than thinking about what happened this morning.”
Doc nodded in understanding and picked at the label on his beer bottle with his thumbnail. “When you’re ready to think about it, I’m here for you.”
She squeezed his arm in gratitude. “I know, Doc. And thank you for coming to my rescue with that whole Donna”—she choked on the woman’s name—“thing. That could’ve been humiliating. Not that itwasn’thumiliating, given how I’ve been throwing myself at Mason like cheap confetti. But, you know, it could’ve been evenmorehumiliating.”
He regarded her kindly. “When she showed up out of nowhere, I knew there’d be a scene.”
Alex traced a finger over the top of her bourbon glass. “Did you know about her? Before tonight, I mean?”
She liked to think that if the Deep Six Salvage guys had known about Donna, they would’ve given her a little warning. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe the bonds of brotherhood were stronger than the bonds of any friendship they’d formed with her.
“I…” Doc began and then hesitated. “There were a few times Mason and I did supply runs together and he disappeared on me,” he finally admitted. Alex grimaced at the thought of what Mason was doing during those hours. “So, sure. I suspected he was seeing someone. But I never got the impression it was anything serious enough to keep him from taking you up on what you’re offering. Sorry, Baby Bear. Maybe Ishouldhave seen it. It’s just that Mason… He’s…” Doc frowned as if searching for the right word.
“A asshole of gargantuan proportions?” she supplied helpfully.
“Private,” he finally finished. Then he slanted her a look. “But that’s no excuse for him hurting you the way he has.”
“He hasn’t hurt me, per se. But he has made me look like a fool.” Doc didn’t say anything to that, so she added, “As frustrating as he can be sometimes…okay,mosttimes…I thought he liked me. I thought he respected me. I thought at the very least we were friends. I can’t understand why he didn’t just tell me the truth from the get-go.”
“Maybe because the truth is more complicated than you think. And you know Mason isn’t one for explanations when a grunt will do.”
Alex let loose with a grunt herself, and then they both fell silent. Doc slowly drinking his beer. Her staring into her bourbon, trying hard not to imagine Mason upstairs with Donna of the bubbly personality and winning smile.
Green Day came through the speakers now. Billie Joe Armstrong singing about walking down a boulevard of broken dreams.
