Hook, Line, and Sinker (Bellinger Sisters, #2)(77)

“What’s up?” Fox asked, shouldering his duffel bag.

Brendan’s gaze was unusually elusive. The captain was the type to look someone in the eye when speaking, impressing upon them his Very Important Words. “Something came up and I need to drive my parents home.”

Fox processed that. “They’re not flying?”

“No. There was some flooding in their basement while they were gone. Figured I’d drive them home and get it straightened out.”

“All right,” Fox said slowly. What was going on here? Brendan had never missed a job. Not once since Fox had known him. And surely if this was going to be the first time, he would have called and saved everyone the hassle of packing and hauling their asses down to the harbor. “So . . . the trip is canceled?”

The utter joy that blared through Fox almost knocked him over.

Five added days with Hannah.

He was going to be back inside her warmth in two minutes flat. And tonight he was going to take her to dinner. Wherever she wanted to go. A concert. She’d love a concert—

“No, it’s not canceled. I’m just handing over the captain duties for the trip.” Before Fox could react, Brendan was dropping the keys to the Della Ray into his palm. “She’s all yours.”

Fox’s relief screeched to a halt. Brendan was now busy folding back the sleeve of his shirt with jerky movements. His friend had never been very good at deception, had he? Yeah, he’d even showed up at school on senior ditch day while everyone else had gone to the beach. This was a man who’d stayed faithful to his deceased wife for seven damn years. He was as honest as the ocean glimmering with the sunrise behind him, and there was no way he’d forgo a fishing trip for a flooded basement. His responsibilities and his customs were stitched into his very fabric.

For the first time, Fox was envious of that.

Even while annoyance nagged at the back of his neck.

Brendan had absolute conviction when it came to making decisions and sticking to them. He knew exactly what he wanted the future to look like, and he executed the steps to make it happen. Proposing to Piper. Commissioning a second boat to expand the business. The only place Brendan seemed to fall short was the absurd belief that Fox belonged in a wheelhouse. Believed it so much that he’d stand there and lie.

Fox nodded stiffly, flipping the keys over once in his hand. “Did you really think you could pull this off?”

Brendan squared up, firming his jaw. “Pull what off?”

“This. Lying to me about some imaginary flood so I’d be forced to captain the boat. What did you think? If I did it once, I’d realize it’s meant to be?”

Brendan thought about holding on to his story, but visibly gave up after 2.8 seconds. “I hoped you’d realize the responsibility is nothing to be scared of.” He shook his head. “You don’t think you’ve earned the right? The trust that comes with it?”

“Oh, you trust me now? You trust me to captain the boat, but not with Hannah. Right?” His bitter laughter burned a path up his chest. “I’m all good to take the lives of five people in my hands. But I better keep my filthy hands off your future sister-in-law. I’ll break her heart. I’ll go behind her back. Which is it, Brendan? Do you trust me or not? Or is your trust just selective?”

Until Fox asked the question out loud, his voice absorbed by the mist around them, he didn’t realize how heavy the weight of that worry, that distinction had been. Just perched on his shoulders like twin stacks of bibles.

For once, Brendan seemed at a total loss, some of the color leaving his face. “I don’t . . . I never would have thought of it that way. I didn’t realize how much it bothered you. The whole Hannah thing.”

“The whole Hannah thing.” He snorted. What a paltry description for being so in love with her, he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Yeah, well. Maybe if you paid a little closer attention, you’d realize I haven’t been to Seattle since last summer. There’s been no one else. There will never be anyone else.” He pointed back at his apartment. “I’ve been sitting there for months, thinking about her, buying records, and texting her like a lovesick asshole.”

He closed his fist around the keys until they dug into his palm.

Was this what it would be like if he was with Hannah?

Constantly trying to convince everyone he wasn’t the careless tramp he’d once been? Even the people who were supposed to love him—Brendan, Kirk and Melinda, his own mother—had looked at him and seen a character beyond repair.

Hannah has faith in you. Hannah believes in you.

Fox was caught off guard by the hesitant vote of confidence that came from within, but it made him think maybe . . . just maybe there was a chance he wasn’t a lost cause.

Still, he allowed the thought to germinate. To grow.

If he could be a worthwhile friend to Hannah, if he could make that tremendous girl stick around and value him, his opinion and company, maybe he could do this, too. Be a leader. Captain a boat. Inspire the respect and consideration of the crew. After all, he had changed. He’d changed for the girl who was lying drowsy in his bed. In the beginning, she’d made some of the same assumptions about him that other people did. But he’d shifted her opinion, hadn’t he?

Could he do it with the crew? Could he be the more that Hannah deserved?