Hot Sauce (Suncoast Society #26)(5)

The first year married to her had driven home his misery in a way he wouldn’t repeat. He’d married Marie at twenty-three, which had also been a mistake, because he hadn’t even known everything about himself yet. Then, five years after the divorce, he’d finally said f*ck it to his career, which even on a good day had felt like treading water in a shark tank while bleeding profusely. He got his captain’s license and bought a boat. Fishing had been his hobby for years, and he’d owned his own boat before—and had to sell it in the divorce.

Which, ironically, worked out all right. It would have been too small for commercial work anyway.

Good credit got him a loan to buy this one. He obtained his captain’s license—and bought the boat—before he quit his job. He hadn’t had any alimony to pay—and no child support, fortunately. He’d saved up enough to get him by for at least six months.

A sore spot for him, but again, in reality, something that turned out to be a good thing in retrospect.

He’d wanted kids but Marie really hadn’t. Thankfully, he’d never talked her into it.

Now he was two months past forty, happy overall, owned his own business free and clear, and had a guy he could honestly say he loved and who he could see himself spending the rest of his life with.

And he didn’t have to feel like a deviant or a pervert because he liked to both get his ass spanked as well as do some spanking himself.

He’d met Lyle over two years ago through the Suncoast Society munches and their mutual memberships at Venture. They played a few times at the club, and Reed invited Lyle out on his boat.

If Lyle hadn’t enjoyed that, there was no way they would have worked out. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

Fortunately, Lyle had loved it.

His ex-wife had hated going fishing, hated the boat, hated everything to do with it, and had resented the time and money he spent doing it.

Which is why he knew she took great satisfaction in demanding he sell it as part of the marital assets, so she could get her half in cash.

Bitch.

Water under the bridge, though. She’d already moved on and married a guy he knew from another brokerage firm. It wouldn’t have surprised Reed if he found out at some point that she’d been cheating on him, because she hadn’t exactly acted shocked or dismayed when he’d asked her for the divorce. She’d loved the perks of being a retirement fund manager’s wife, including the pay, cars, parties, and all of that.

Another thing he’d been glad about, that he hadn’t let her quit working at the bank she’d started at as a teller. She’d moved up to assistant branch manager by the time they divorced, her average salary almost equal to his own.

She’d wanted to quit and go back to school at one point, but he’d been having a shaky patch with the stock market doing the hokey pokey and playing hell with his own earnings. He hadn’t been sure he’d even have a job before it finally turned around.

Fortunately, in that case, he had gotten his way, she had kept working, and by the time they finally divorced his income had rebounded.

Then he promptly had to sink it into attorney’s fees.

But unlike his bride, who liked all the finer things in life, he was perfectly happy settling in a small two-bedroom condo he’d rented from a friend. Utilities and everything except cable and Internet were included, and that’s where he’d been living until he moved in with Lyle twelve months earlier.

Marie and her new hubby were living in a fancy gated community in a section of Lakewood Ranch where cheap homes started around four hundred grand.

And they weren’t living in a cheap home.

He shared Lyle’s thirty-year-old house off Beneva, which wasn’t fancy, but they’d redecorated the interior and revamped the pool, so it felt fresh and new. And except for the home equity loan Lyle had taken out to pay for those upgrades—and which Reed was paying half of—it was owned free and clear.

Lyle owned an insurance company specializing in writing policies on the kinds of homes Reed’s ex lived in, as well as other high-risk properties, like beachfront condos. Even before meeting Reed he’d lived an understated, yet comfortable and easy life.

Another reason Reed had fallen hard for him. He felt he could be his real self around Lyle with no need to put on airs.

After refueling, taking on fresh bait, wolfing down a sandwich from the marina store’s deli, and getting his afternoon charter customers on board, he cast off his lines and headed out of the marina basin again, happy to be alive. Other than a little residual indigestion he suspected was due to how fast he’d eaten, he felt great, his soul light and airy.

He’d never felt like this at his old job, eager to get back to it, enjoying every day, even the crappy ones. Yes, the trade-off was a lower salary, but the reduced stress and increased happiness was well worth it.

Life is good.





With a smile, Lyle Bracken set his phone aside on his desk. He didn’t know what species of dinner Reed would bring home, but absolutely he’d cook it. One of the perks of having a charter captain as a partner was all the fresh-caught fish he could handle.

Lucky for him, he adored fish.

More than once he’d thanked his lucky stars for meeting the man, as well as for the stupidity of Reed’s ex-wife. If it hadn’t been for the perfect confluence of events, they might never have met.