charcoal grill.
Still, surprisingly…nice. The deck’s boards were a homey shade of honeyed pine, and spotlessly clean. Houseboats bobbed companionably side by side in the gentle ebb and flow of the tide. The potted plants were fragrantly green and floral, bright red geraniums and dappled violets and even a few sunflowers.
He’d lived in apartments far less welcoming. If overall drier.
Eve greeted Donovan in her customary style, wrapping one arm around his neck and dragging him down into a firm hug. Yes, down. She only stood four feet eleven in flat shoes. Which might or might not have been the reason they’d struck up a friendship in the first place, way back when. Vertically challenged solidarity, oorah! “There you are, finally,” she said as she squished him. “I’d started to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
Donovan took care not to squash the contents of the baby carrier, peacefully snoring away. Looked like the little man had inherited his father’s calm, nearly somnolescent personality. Good for him. And for Tanner too, probably. “Got a later start than I’d wanted. The insurance adjuster called and took up nearly half an hour arguing the fine print on my policy.”
“Any luck?”
Donovan wrinkled his nose. “Luck, in a conversation with an insurance company?”
“Good point.” Eve patted Donovan’s back. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. And don’t you dare ask me again about rent, understood?”
Understood, yes. Accepted, no. It wasn’t that Donovan didn’t appreciate crash space while the insurance company decided on the eventual fate of his living situation. God, did he appreciate it. But before this whole fiasco, Donovan knew Eve and Tanner had started making noises about selling the boat to help bolster their post-kid budget. They’d need the money, and now. As soon as someone took pity and cut him a check, he’d pay them back.
“Just down here, Donovan.” Eve guided his steps. “This one. The Knotty Boy. Don’t laugh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Donovan said, almost virtuously, and almost believably. He hoped. To distract himself from what looked—to him—like a miniature trailer with floaty bits, he shot a curious look back over his shoulder. Leaf had tucked his curls back up in his cap and set to work with what looked like a power washer, blasting away at the deck. “Question first, actually. I just met the strangest guy driving the water taxi—”
Eve dimpled. “Let me guess. Leaf?”
“Unless he stole someone else’s name tag.”
“Six feet or so of utter gorgeous?”
“That’d be the one. No, stop that, stay there.” Donovan hopped, crabwise and awkward, over the slight rise and fall of the boat’s side and attempted to steady it while he helped Eve step down. “Careful. I don’t want to think of what Tanner would do to me if I let you and Junior go for a swim. Does he even know you’re here?”
“Yes, he knows, and ugh, you’re as bad as him. I’ve been sailing since I was younger than this one.” Eve tugged her son’s tiny knit hat further down to shade his eyes, and let hers twinkle at Donovan. “So. Leaf, hmm?”
“Leaf, hmm,” Donovan said, bland as porridge. “Seems like an…interesting sort of guy.”
“Isn’t he just? Still, I don’t know too much about him,” Eve said as she led the way across the deck. “Just that he took the maintenance man position a few months ago, and he’s very, very pretty.” She frowned in deliberation. “I’m not sure he’s got a lot on the ball, though.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well…” Eve crinkled her button nose. “He’s sort of flighty, isn’t he? Like he never quite grew up. Like he chose not to. Which is okay when you’re just starting out, sure, but I get the feeling he’d be happy to bop around without a care for the rest of his life.”
Donovan had no trouble believing her. He watched Leaf coil up the power washer and remove his cap to pat his
Still, surprisingly…nice. The deck’s boards were a homey shade of honeyed pine, and spotlessly clean. Houseboats bobbed companionably side by side in the gentle ebb and flow of the tide. The potted plants were fragrantly green and floral, bright red geraniums and dappled violets and even a few sunflowers.
He’d lived in apartments far less welcoming. If overall drier.
Eve greeted Donovan in her customary style, wrapping one arm around his neck and dragging him down into a firm hug. Yes, down. She only stood four feet eleven in flat shoes. Which might or might not have been the reason they’d struck up a friendship in the first place, way back when. Vertically challenged solidarity, oorah! “There you are, finally,” she said as she squished him. “I’d started to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
Donovan took care not to squash the contents of the baby carrier, peacefully snoring away. Looked like the little man had inherited his father’s calm, nearly somnolescent personality. Good for him. And for Tanner too, probably. “Got a later start than I’d wanted. The insurance adjuster called and took up nearly half an hour arguing the fine print on my policy.”
“Any luck?”
Donovan wrinkled his nose. “Luck, in a conversation with an insurance company?”
“Good point.” Eve patted Donovan’s back. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. And don’t you dare ask me again about rent, understood?”
Understood, yes. Accepted, no. It wasn’t that Donovan didn’t appreciate crash space while the insurance company decided on the eventual fate of his living situation. God, did he appreciate it. But before this whole fiasco, Donovan knew Eve and Tanner had started making noises about selling the boat to help bolster their post-kid budget. They’d need the money, and now. As soon as someone took pity and cut him a check, he’d pay them back.
“Just down here, Donovan.” Eve guided his steps. “This one. The Knotty Boy. Don’t laugh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Donovan said, almost virtuously, and almost believably. He hoped. To distract himself from what looked—to him—like a miniature trailer with floaty bits, he shot a curious look back over his shoulder. Leaf had tucked his curls back up in his cap and set to work with what looked like a power washer, blasting away at the deck. “Question first, actually. I just met the strangest guy driving the water taxi—”
Eve dimpled. “Let me guess. Leaf?”
“Unless he stole someone else’s name tag.”
“Six feet or so of utter gorgeous?”
“That’d be the one. No, stop that, stay there.” Donovan hopped, crabwise and awkward, over the slight rise and fall of the boat’s side and attempted to steady it while he helped Eve step down. “Careful. I don’t want to think of what Tanner would do to me if I let you and Junior go for a swim. Does he even know you’re here?”
“Yes, he knows, and ugh, you’re as bad as him. I’ve been sailing since I was younger than this one.” Eve tugged her son’s tiny knit hat further down to shade his eyes, and let hers twinkle at Donovan. “So. Leaf, hmm?”
“Leaf, hmm,” Donovan said, bland as porridge. “Seems like an…interesting sort of guy.”
“Isn’t he just? Still, I don’t know too much about him,” Eve said as she led the way across the deck. “Just that he took the maintenance man position a few months ago, and he’s very, very pretty.” She frowned in deliberation. “I’m not sure he’s got a lot on the ball, though.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well…” Eve crinkled her button nose. “He’s sort of flighty, isn’t he? Like he never quite grew up. Like he chose not to. Which is okay when you’re just starting out, sure, but I get the feeling he’d be happy to bop around without a care for the rest of his life.”
Donovan had no trouble believing her. He watched Leaf coil up the power washer and remove his cap to pat his
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