Page 44 of Lowering His Guard

“The Atlantis Adventure,” Jace reads out loud, “takes riders on an underwater journey through the legendary lost city of Atlantis. Wander past coral palaces, ancient shipwrecks, and glittering treasure chambers as mermaids reveal the forgotten kingdom many islanders insist still exists somewhere beneath the waters surrounding Smuggler's Hideaway.”

“Sounds fun,” Brock repeats.

“Sounds boring and for small children and old men. You go ahead. May and I will hit up some adult rides.”

“I am not an old man,” Brock grumbles.

“I hate to butt into this intellectual debate, but anyone who voluntarily wants to go on the Atlantis Adventure and not because they want to figure out where the secret exit is, is an old man.”

Jace rubs his hands together as his eyes glitter with excitement. “There’s a secret exit?”

“Which you did not hear about from me. It’s a smuggler’s-only thing.”

“I could be a smuggler.”

“Sorry, dude.” I ruffle his hair. “You have to live on the island to be a smuggler.”

“Dad, can we live here after you retire?”

Brock blinks. “You want to live here?”

“Duh, it’s cool.”

“No need to discuss this now,” I say. “Retirement is years off.”

“Dad’s retiring after this season.”

My eyes widen. “You’re serious? I thought you were joking about retiring.”

He shrugs. “Don’t joke.”

“But you aren’t old.”

“Um, hello.” Jace rolls his eyes. “We just established he’s old.”

I study Brock. His face is shut down. Well, more shut down than normal for the grumpy man. I let it go. It’s none of my business anyway. Friends don’t push friends.

“I vote for Siren’s Spill.”

Jace throws his hand in the air. “I second!”

“Let’s go.” I march toward the path. Before long, we pass Booty Bites and the smell of fried food hits me.

“Hold on. Detour. I am in desperate need of a Booty Bucket.”

“What’s a Booty Bucket?”

I lace my arm through Jace’s. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

“I’ll save us a table,” Brock grumbles.

There’s no line and we’re able to order and get our bucket quickly. I grab a bunch of napkins before carrying our bucket to the table where Brock is sitting.

“This, my friends, is a Booty Bucket. It is filled with fries, popcorn shrimp, and chicken tenders.” I offer the bucket to Jace. “Choose your poison.”

He grabs a chicken tender and shoves it in his mouth. “Good,” he mumbles around his food.

“Your turn,” I tell Brock but he shakes his head. “Do you not eat fried food? I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”