Hot Sauce (Suncoast Society #26)(37)

“Give us three,” Reed said. “We’ll take ’em off your hands.”

She handed three out to Lyle, who traded her the bottles for the bags of fish in his hands.

With all the fish safely stowed, she turned to the men. “Thank you for this morning. I had a great time.” She was a little surprised to realize that wasn’t even an exaggeration.

She did have a great time with them. She was even able to talk to them about what Tony had written in his journal about them, how he’d liked the men, trusted them. Yes, a lot of talking, and some tears, but for the first time since Tony’s death she felt like she could breathe again without a heavy weight upon her soul.

Yes, it still hurt, and she knew it would hurt for years.

Probably forever.

But at least she had a little hope now that her grief would, gradually, reach a point where she could live with it without it crushing her.

“We had a great time, too,” Reed said. “Thanks for coming out with us.”

“But the day’s not done yet,” Lyle said. “You have time for a nap and a shower before we pick you up at six for dinner.”

She wasn’t even going to argue with them. She realized if she tried to back out that Eliza, Jenny, and likely Tilly—who also had her phone number since asking for it last night—would be calling her and wanting to know why she’d backed out.

It was easier to go and play along. As she’d discovered from that morning, playing along would be the easiest thing in the world to do with these two men.

Once they’d left, she headed for the bathroom, stripped, brushed out her hair, and got in the shower, standing under water a little cooler than she would normally take it. She’d used sunscreen, but still got a little bit of exposure.

Carlo laid outside the shower, not leaving her side after going out for his walk.

And the men hadn’t even freaked out when she stripped down to her bathing suit and jumped in the comfortably warm Gulf water with Lyle for a quick swim.

Which she’d needed, because she’d had to pee and didn’t feel like squatting off the back of the swim ladder like Reed had explained she could do.

They’d caught their legal limit of grunts and grouper today.

Tomorrow night, she would cook them dinner. Tony had a notebook in the kitchen full of recipes he’d cooked for her, including a couple of delicious fish recipes she knew she could duplicate.

It would be fitting to cook something of his for the men.

Therapeutic.

She knew he would have approved of her going out with them. The sun, the calm water, the light breeze, and good company. Reed had even let her take the wheel on the way in, showing her how to steer the boat, what the channel markers meant, and even let her try her hand at docking it, which according to the men, she’d done pretty well at for her first attempt.

She’d been able to go periods of time, once nearly an hour, without thinking about Tony’s death.

Although never far from her thoughts was the wistful desire to pick up her phone and call him, or text him pics of their day.

The three of them even took selfies together, when she’d pulled up her first keeper grouper.

It’d been fun.

Another thing the morning had taught her—being friends with the men wouldn’t be a problem or a chore or even an act she’d have to fake. They were sweet, funny, smart men. If it eventually went farther than just friends, she’d be okay with that, too.

She wasn’t sure of the BDSM stuff, although after talking to them about that, too, she realized it wasn’t nearly as freaky as she’d worried it might be. Between seeing people play the night before, and hearing their personal takes on it, it made sense to her.

Some people had very formal, rigid, structured dynamics. These men were switches, playing both roles whenever it suited them for fun.

She could understand that.

And, despite her initial discomfort, it was easier to talk to them about her brother, to ask them how he’d liked to play, what they enjoyed doing with him, what he enjoyed with them—it was a way to learn more about him and soothe her soul a little.

After getting out of the shower, she made a quick call to her parents, returning their call that she’d missed while in the shower. She knew they were worried about her, but right now, she still needed time to rebuild her protective bubble around herself.

Then she put her phone on the charger next to her bed and set the alarm to wake her up so she could take a nap. She wouldn’t need much time to get ready, just brush out her hair, get dressed, and go.

The men had seen her without makeup already. It wasn’t like she needed to dig the stuff out of her bathroom cabinet and put it on. She didn’t wear it at work. It was a pain in the butt to wear, and, frankly, she didn’t like wearing it.

She patted the bed, calling Carlo up with her, and closed her eyes.





In her dream, she was back on Reed’s boat, but it was just her and Tony and Carlo.

Ironically, it was Carlo’s presence that tipped her off it was a dream. The dog was happy, calm, sitting there with his head in Tony’s lap, and not freaking out like she suspected he would over the water.

While part of her wanted to cry with joy to see her brother sitting there, and part of her wanted to curl up in his arms, she suspected that might jolt her out of this dream and she didn’t want to do that.