Page 12 of Hooked on Love

“The couch.” He grins.

I can’t help but laugh at his lame joke and his returning smile lights up the entire apartment. I swallow and turn away, hurrying to gather utensils and two plates before taking a seat beside him on the couch. I start dividing the food between our plates.

We eat in silence for a moment. It should be awkward, but somehow, it’s not. Maybe because we’re both too hungry to care. Or maybe because the apartment feels less empty with both of us in it.

“So,” Jake says eventually, picking up his third spring roll. “How was your day?

I look up sharply. “Oh, um… Well, I had a guest complain that the sunset last night wasn’t sunset-y enough.”

He snorts. “What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea. But I smiled and offered her a free dinner anyway because that’s my job.”

“Your job is to manage the resort, not to manage unrealistic expectations about atmospheric phenomena.”

I raise a brow at his choice of words. Beauty and brains. What else is there about this boat captain I don’t know? “I’ll be sure to use that line tomorrow when she calls the front desk to complain about the tide schedule.”

He raises a brow. “She complained about the tide schedule?”

“Not yet, but give her time.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, taking another bite of his dinner. “How long have you been the resort manager at The Tides?”

“A few weeks. Before this, I was an assistant manager at a hotel in Seattle for three years.”

“Big change coming here from Seattle, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah.” I push a piece of chicken around my plate. “I needed a change. After my mom died, being in Seattle just…didn’t fit. So, when this position opened up, I applied. I didn’t really think I’d get it, but…” I shrug.

“When did she die?” he asks softly.

I sigh. “Six months ago.”

We’re both quiet for a moment. I focus on my food, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” Jake says finally.

“Thanks.” I risk a glance in his direction. His eyes are soft. Kind. Nothing like the gruff man from last night. “It’s been…hard. She was all I had. I’m an only child and my dad left when I was little. It was just me and her for most of my life.”

“So, you really are starting from scratch here.”

“Pretty much.” I manage a weak smile. “No friends, no family, just me and a job that requires me to smile while people complain about breathtaking sunsets.”

“For what it’s worth,” he says, meeting my eyes, “I’m sorry for being an ass about the apartment situation.”

“You weren’t an ass. You were surprised, and so was I. There’s a difference.”

His mouth quirks. “Fair.”

We go back to eating, but something’s shifted. The tension from this morning is gone, replaced by a less awkward form of…companionship, maybe? The word feels off, but it’s the only one that comes to mind sitting here having dinner and talking about our day-to-day life.

“So, how bad is your boat?” I ask, because I’m curious.

His expression darkens. “Bad. Cracked engine block, cooling system damage. I need to order parts, and even then, it’s going to take at least two to three weeks to get her running again.”

Oh. “That’s a long time to be out of commission.”

“Tell me about it. June, July, August are my busiest months. I have tours booked almost every day. Well, had.“