“Pfft.” Kai waves me off. “I’ll put money on him begging me for some D before we board up for the fall.”
A wave of sudden-onset nausea, roiling jealousy or carrot-induced IBS—I can’t tell which—slams into me.
I immediately bottle that up, however, and press a hand to Kai’s chest. I look him dead in his eyes, like it’ll help me summon a backbone. “Please don’t, Kai. I mean it.”
He snorts. “What, not like you claimed dibs on him… or did you, and I just missed it? Either way, there’s no reason why we can’t share like adults. Get a little humpy train chugga-luggin’,” he says, before cackling.
“Can you not?” I swipe my palm down my face. “Jeezum Criminey…”
He points at me, still laughing, as he starts backing out of the kitchen. “See? What’d I tell ya, you’re an old fart! Threesomes, I hear they’re a blessed thing,” he teases on his way across the empty dining hall.
“Then find two other guys and stop—” I start, but my words die off, because he’s already out the door.
Chapter Seven
“So, let me get this straight—you’re going to work at a summer camp with a shit ton of little kids—for the rest of the summer?” Gannett asks, amusement clearly written all over his face, as he bands up the last of our haul. Obviously, he’s been working out here on the water too long, because he doesn’t even bother trying to find another set of protective gloves to keep from getting pinched by a claw. He just handed me his and carried on raw-dog.
Something tells me my sister-in-law, Sarah, would be a little upset if he lost the tips of a few of his fingers out here, but I’m not his mommy. Fuck around and find out is a love language my younger brother, four years my junior, is fluent in. Just ask our actual mother.
“Problem with that?” I quiz him. “Not like I’m the one dealing with the rugrats, just their aftermath.”
Gannett snorts. “Your old ass couldn’t handle any more rugrats. Not after that hellion you raised.”
He has no idea I’d always hoped for more. Maybe not as many as are all slated to be at the camp, but I’d always wanted two or three kids. Miranda was content with one, however. Either that, or she was just done trying with me.
I toss my banded lobster in the live-well and narrow my eyes at my brother. “Not like you were any better at his age. Hell, you might have even beenworse. Besides, you try being a single parent, and tell me how well you’d do, asshole.”
He chuckles at that. “Nah, hell no. I know I’m in for it with just my girls. I couldn’t do it alone. Once Tati and Terra are out of diapers, I’ll be too busy sitting on my front porch, shotgun on my lap, batting off teenage boys like yours left and right. The old lady’s gonna have to stick around to make sure supper’s on the table every night and the house is kept up.”
I roll my eyes. I’d never tell Gan this, but his traditionalist way of thinking could land him being handed divorce papers, just like I once had been. Miranda couldn’t stand being seen as my ‘old lady’ as many wives around here, regardless of their age, are referred to as. I can’t see Sarah sticking around just to be likened to a fifties ‘happy housewife’, as Miranda had once been looked at as, despite her having her own highly respected career and being a young mother.
Lord knows he’d never listen to me if I warned him, anyway. Despite it being the perfect ‘I told you so’ scenario, he’ll just have to fuck around and find out for himself. And Christ, wouldn’t it be funny to watch Gan shit a brick trying to raise twin toddlers on his own?
He’s silent for a bit as he bands up a couple more lobsters, then he ponders, “Isn’t that camp run by a couple of queers?”
Queers.I instantly stiffen at the word—or rather, the tone he just took when saying it. I fumble and drop the lobster I was banding. Hemust take note of that, judging by the way his eyebrow quirks up at me.
“Where’d you hear that?” I ask, sidestepping the dig.
“Guys were yakkin’ about it at Portside last night. You know ole’ drama-obsessed Gordy, he likes stirring the pot at his own watering hole for the hell of it. Dad was bitchin’ about how he’d finally got you to start working the family business, and now you’re runnin’ off to go spend the summer with a bunch of—”
“Could you not?” I grunt at him, effectively cutting him off before he can finish that statement for fear I might end up getting so pissed off I introduce my knuckles to his beak in an unfriendly way.
“What?” he asks, genuinely curious, like he can’t see the harm in the condescending tone and the derogatory language he used to refer to Brooks and Kai.
I rather like Brooks, and I find myself inexplicably magnetized to him. And I also may not have the best impression of Kai, but it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with his sexual orientation. It’s his shit-disturbing attitude. It’s the underhanded shit he says that cuts Brooks down.
“I told Dad that you were probably just going to make sure they don’t turn Colt gay too or someth—”
“Enough!” I growl, cutting him off again. “I’m going because I…” I trail off, becausewhy did Iagree to go work for Brooks? That, I truly don’t have an answer to, other than it being a gut feeling. “The camp is a grief camp; they help kids who have suffered through immense loss, notturn them gay. I’m there because I saw Brooks needed help, and I am in a position to help him. That’s all.”
He snorts. “Alright,defensive. Sounds like someone’s got a cru-ush,” he teases.
“Alright, you need to stop,” I grit out.
“Seriously? You’re getting all worked up, like I give a fuck. You know me, dude. As long as they ain’t tryin’ to hit on me, I don’t give a shit.”
Coulda fooled me.
