Hot Sauce (Suncoast Society #26)(36)

“Might not be a bad idea. What’s in it?”

He pulled a package out of the center console built into the armrest between the seats. “Here you go, you can read it for yourself.”

She did, and then took one of the capsules, swallowing it with her coffee.

Couldn’t hurt. It would be bad enough crying around the men.

The last thing she wanted to do was puke her guts up, too.





Lyle had awoke that morning worried they were moving too fast. Reed assured him this morning would only be about being friends with her, being there for her, supporting her, and trying to get her mind off her troubles the only way Reed knew how that didn’t involve impact play or sex.

Fishing.

He had to admit, he enjoyed going out on the boat. He even enjoyed fishing, but there was something soothing about lying in the sun, the boat gently rocking on the water, relaxing and…just being for a little while.

Since he worked weekdays, and Reed rarely took a weekend day off, Lyle didn’t get to go out with him as often as he wanted. Sometimes, on long summer evenings when it stayed safe light until after eight, after work Lyle would go straight to the marina, meet up with him, and they’d take a near-shore dinner jaunt to watch the sunset and get back to the marina before full dark.

They parked the truck and Lyle helped Reed grab the cooler and fishing poles and other things they’d need from the truck bed, which was protected by a locking topper.

“Can I help?” she asked.

“Nope,” Reed said. “Usually, I’m doing this alone. Lyle knows the routine. Mine’s right down there.” He pointed. “I’m the third from the end, the green Mako.”

She headed down the dock.

Reed looked at him. “We need ice, gas, and bait and we’ll be all set.”

“And a lot of luck,” Lyle added.

Reed grinned. “That’s a given.”

By nine o’clock, they were motoring out of the marina basin toward the channel. She sat on the cooler in front of the control console, one hand on her hat, the other holding onto the cooler’s rope handle once they left the no-wake zone and Reed eased the throttles forward to bring the boat up on plane.

It would be a warm day, but so far, the water still looked smooth, glassy, the sea breeze not yet kicking in to even ripple it.

They couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day to bring her out for her first trip. Once they were out of the channel and in safe water, Reed even had her take the wheel and showed her how to run the boat.

It took them thirty minutes to reach their first spot, a honey hole Reed didn’t often bring customers to. Once he got on the numbers and verified the spot with his bottom finder, the tossed the anchor to keep them just up-current from the spot, shut the engines down, and switched the XM Radio unit on.

It was the one splurge Lyle had been able to talk Reed into early on, reminding him that his customers would appreciate the ready-made music selections, or even sports programming, and he wouldn’t be out of range.

And yes, Lyle had been right.

Reed set it to the Margaritaville channel that played a heavy rotation of Jimmy Buffet’s music, perfect for the day and the situation. Mostly upbeat, fun, and tropical.

“Are you ready to learn how to fish?” Lyle asked her.

“I just realized, I don’t have a fishing license. Don’t I need one of those?”

“I have a commercial license,” Reed said. “I have to, as a guide. Most of my customers are from out of state and don’t have licenses.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

Lyle gave her credit, she didn’t even flinch when Reed showed her how to cut the frozen squid bait into usable pieces and how to bait the hooks. Reed put out a chum bag and pretty soon, they were all wetting hooks and starting to get nibbles right away.

When she pulled up her first fish, a small grunt not nearly big enough to use for bait, much less keep to eat, she readily let Reed show her how to slide her hand down the fish and firmly grip it so it didn’t fin her, and she could hold onto it to get the hook out.

When she gently returned it to the water and rinsed her hands off, she straightened with a beaming smile. “Let’s do that again!”





Once they arrived at her place a little before three that afternoon, she got out of the truck and went to unlock the door and walk Carlo while the men dug the cooler out of the back of Reed’s truck. She was just coming back inside with Carlo when she realized the men were standing in front of her open fridge, bags of fresh fish filets in their hands.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Reed arched an eyebrow at her. “That’s an awful lot of wine for one woman to drink.”

She felt her face go even redder as heat filled it. “Yeeaahh. My original plan after dropping my parents off at the airport was to come home and drink myself blind until this morning, giving me two days to sober up and get over my hangover before I go to work on Monday.”

Lyle laughed. “So how much did you drink? And what changed your plan?”

“Only one bottle. And I changed the plan because I woke up feeling so crappy Wednesday morning, I decided it wasn’t worth feeling like shit and feeling hungover at the same time.” She stepped between them and started rearranging things. “Moscato was his favorite. If you guys want a couple of bottles, take them. It’ll take me a year or longer to drink all this.”