I bought a truck, a big fucking truck, from Mitsi’s husband’s dealership, Belmont Chevrolet. I also made damn sure I didn’t buy it from Evie’s husband. What kind of friend/employee would do that to someone?

The majority of them.

Aside from my past, my mother, my father, the way I was raised, I have witnessed what people call love, and in very rare circumstances it actually lasts. But, it’s not just love, that four-letter word, the one I don’t trust, and for good reason. That four-letter word that people fall in. They fall, without consideration, planning, or knowing what dangers lie ahead.

Love, that four-letter word describes a feeling that’s definition is never the same, ever-changing. Without honesty, respect, and loyalty, there is no way it will last.

I want it to last.

I look over the words I typed out on my phone, the ones I will tell her, because it’s the one fucking thing she’s asked for. If I can’t give it to her, I don’t deserve her.

“Nice truck.”

I look back to see Pace walking toward me.

“I’m hoping it will be helpful around here.” And I hope it makes me look better to your father.

He leans against it, and I almost cringe, not wanting a scratch on the fucking thing.

“So, you’re trying to get my sister to run against Black for mayor, huh?”

“How the hell do you know that?”

He holds up his phone and shows me a picture, one of Paige and I kissing in the café.

Oddly, I’m more upset that Pace knows I’m pushing his sister to do something completely different than what she wants than I am about our public kiss being all over the internet.

“You want me to tag you in it?” He laughs.

“No.”

His phone chimes off notification after notification, all from dating websites, and he quickly pulls it out of my hand.

When I look at him, he shrugs. “Not really into dating.”

“I see that.”

He laughs. “No, not really. Those are sure things.”

I just look at him.

“Oh, come on; don’t judge. I’m sure you’ve been on these things, too, at some point in your life.”

I shake my head.

“I call bullshit.” He runs his hand over his head.

“It’s not bullshit. I never did the app thing. The women before your sister were under no impression I wanted a relationship. It was sex; that’s it.”

“Where did you meet them?”

“Coffee shop, bar, club, gym, the beach—lots of places.”

“And what did you say? Wanna fuck?” He laughs again.

I shrug. “Most of the time, yeah.”

“That’s harsh.” He continues to laugh.

“No, that’s reality.”

“That how it went down with my sister?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.

I shake my head again.

“You expect me to believe that?” He pushes off my truck, and yes, I look for scratches.

“I met your sister through my work. I was always attracted to her looks, her strength, and the way she was with her friends.”

“For nine years? Then you finally decide that you’re in love with her?”

There’s that word again—love.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pace.” More accurately, I’m not going to tell you. “The truth is, it was the right place and the right time. I saw her in a different setting, and I saw that maybe she wasn’t as much of a pain in the ass as I always thought she was.”

He laughs. “Oh, she is.”

I see a car pull into the lot beside the marina, an abandoned lot. As an old man gets out of the back of the car, I watch him walk to the back door of the rundown building that is three times the size of the marina.

“Old man Tragus.” Pace shakes his head. “Been closed up for five years and still won’t sell the place. His wife was sick, took out a loan, and is losing it. He fights hard, though. Every month he comes and meets Black or one of the others, hands over a wad of cash, and then flips them off when they leave.”

“How much is he asking for the place?”

“Oh, he won’t sell. He’s had plenty offers, but refuses.”

“You ever make him an offer?”

“Now, what the hell would I offer him?” Pace asks in annoyance.

“I don’t know, but that place would be one hell of an addition to the marina.”

“What would you even do with it?”

“Bar, restaurant, apartments, vacation rentals—something.” I look at him. “And it wouldn’t be me, Pace. It would be you and a silent partner.”

He narrows his eyes as he looks at me. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Why the hell not?”

He scowls. “I have nothing.”

“You have loyalty to your family and are here even when there are no charters scheduled,” I tell him as I walk toward the building. “Come on; there’s no harm in trying.”

“I don’t even know what to offer him,” Pace calls from behind me, catching up.

“Get him talking; he’ll give you an idea.”

We walk into the building, finding it in rough shape, but it looks better from the inside than the outside.

“Mr. Tragus,” Pace calls out, and the overhead door facing the water opens.

“Pace? Pace Arnesen?” the old man asks, walking closer to us. “What brings you here?”

“He was just asking the same thing about you,” I answer for Pace. “I’m Vincent, a friend of Paige’s.”

He shakes my outstretched hand firmly. “You the owner of the yacht?”

Fuck, I think, but nod. “Saved up for it for twelve years. It was intended to be my home.”

He nods then looks at Pace. “This the guy buying up all the properties around here?”

“Not a friend of Black’s.” Pace nods. “He’s the one who bought our place.” He leans in closer and whispers loud enough for me to hear, “Would have been cheaper to just buy her a damn ring.”

Unable to stop myself, I spew out the truth, “Would have broken her had that fucker gotten it.”

“Speak of the devil,” Pace says with a snicker, and I look toward the rear door.

“Block party?” Warren asks as he walks toward us with an envelope in his hands.

“Didn’t send one of your goons this time, Black? Had to come here and put the final nail in the coffin yourself, did ya?” The old man is pissed.

Warren shakes his head. “Could’ve ended this a couple years ago when I brought you an offer.”

“You could’ve been a better human being and not handed out notes to the businesses up and down the island just to watch them fail.” He steps toward him, and I grab his shoulder, stopping him. “Your grandfather would be ashamed of you.”

“My grandfather’s time passed, Luther, and so did several generations before him. I’m just righting wrongs.” He sighs and opens the envelope, pulling out a letter. “You owe us twenty-seven thousand dollars, payable by today or we—”

“Mr. Tragus, Pace and I would like to have a chat with you in private,” I tell him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Black grumbles.

I nod to Pace then follow him and Luther Tragus out of the overhead doors and onto a dilapidated dock.

“Look, Luther”—Pace shakes his head—“I have no clue what to say, but my not so silent partner and I would like to buy your place.”

“You gonna knock it down and put in some chain hotel, a parking lot, a—”

“Not sure what we’ll do.”

He looks at me for answers.

“Neither am I,” I tell him honestly. “But we’d gladly take your suggestions. Just don’t let him have it. I’ll write a check for what is owed right now. Give us a month to decide what we’ll do with it. You win the lottery, you write me a check for what I paid. You can’t come up with the money and you don’t want that asshole to own your place, you let us buy it and make it part of Arnesen’s. You want a job, it’s yours.”

“Is this one for real?” he asks Pace.

Pace nods. “I told him you’ve refused offers. He suggested we try.”

He looks at me. “You gonna bury that man?”

“I’m going to do my best,” I assure him.

“You have the funds to follow him door to door and make the same offer?” he asks.

“I’m not sure about that, but this place makes smart business sense.”

“You fish?”

I nod. “I do.”

“You gonna take me out on that boat someday soon?”

I smile and nod again. “Yes, sir.”

“If I decide to sell, it goes in his name.” He points to Pace.

Pace sighs. “Luther, it’s his money.”

“You have my word,” I tell him.

“I got nothing to lose and a month to gain.” Luther scratches his bald head as he looks at me. “You’re an idiot. You don’t know me from a bag of assholes.”

“I know people.”

“Well then, write the check,” he says. “Write the fucking check.”

* * *

“You’re making friends.” Pace clinks his shot glass to mine, and then we toss back the whiskey Joe keeps pouring.

I lift the hem of my shirt to wipe my mouth and laugh. “You bought a bar.”

“Damn kids don’t want it, but I’m sure as hell glad you’re getting this place and not that bastard.” Joe pours another round of shots.

“And I’m glad you’re running it because I haven’t a fucking clue what I would do with the place.” Pace shoots back the next shot.

Old man Joe walks around and reaches under the bar, pulling out a map of the island. He opens it up and spreads it across the bar, pointing to the marina. “This is your place and Luther’s place. The two places next to his are owned by investors, some friends of Black’s, I assume. The beach next to it, well, the unkempt, overgrown shitstorm there is part of Caroline’s property. Back in the day, boats used to dock there in the morning. They’d grab some breakfast and gas up, then dock for the night here and end up where you’re sitting now, doing the same damn thing we are. Back then, the money rolled into this island with the tide. Not one of us had a care in the world.”

“What happened then?” I ask before shooting back my shot, then turning the glass upside down, telling him that I’m done.

“Life happened … happened to all of us.” He points back to Luther’s place. “Luther doesn’t pull through, and you end up with his place, you could eventually own everything from the marina to here. Then, whatever Black has planned for this part of the island, it’ll be put on hold till you go broke.” He laughs.

I wink. “I don’t plan on going broke.”

“Then, what do you have planned, son?” he asks.

I link my hands behind my head. “I’m retired, Joe. I plan on fishing and fucking.”

I look behind me when I hear someone clear their throat.

I smile at her, but it’s not returned. Paige is pissed.

I look back at Joe and grin. “And fighting with this one.”

“Paige.” Pace smiles. “Don’t be mad at him. We’ve been busy today, conducting business.”

“Which one of you two are driving?” she asks sternly.

I turn on my stool so I can look at her.

“Oh, my God, you’re wasted, too.”

I lean forward and grab her hand, pulling her close to me, and whisper, “Whiskey dick won’t be an issue. I was hard the minute I saw you.”

She looks around then back at me. “I will never be the kind of girl who will be fun to fight with. I will not chase a man, and I’m not one to drop a bomb and fly under the radar.”

I clear my throat before responding, “I can’t help that it turns me on when you’re pissed off, any more than I can that you turn me on when you smile, or bite your fucking lip, or … breathe. I would never expect you to chase me, unless we were playing tag, and I can run pretty fucking fast. I’m not flying under the radar; I have my phone.” I reach in and pull it out of my pocket. It’s dead. “Fuck. It won’t happen again. And if the bomb you are referring to is making a couple of investments, I’m glad it interests you, because they’re good people and … Did you know there are good people here?”

She looks past me, and I follow her line of sight to the door.

“He’s not a good person. He’s a piece of shit.” I start to stand, but she pushes me back. “Lady”—I grab her hand from my shoulder and kiss it—“he’s a piece of shit.”

“I’m aware of what he is,” Paige says, still looking at the fucker, and not me.

“Paige.” I tug her hand to get her attention. When she doesn’t give it to me, I push my stool back and stand up, turning around to look at him.

He’s not looking at me. He’s looking at her.

I point at him. “Avert your fucking eyes elsewhere.”

He looks away, takes off his suit jacket, and sets it on the barstool at the end of the bar. Before he sits, he pulls an envelope out of it and sets it on the bar.

“That’s enough,” Paige says, walking in front of me.

I look down at her. “I’m going to ruin him.”

“Today’s the day, Joe,” I hear come out of Warrens fucking mouth and want to break his jaw.

“Sure is, asshole,” Pace snickers.

Paige turns her back to me and looks at her brother. “Enough.”

“No, Paige, it will never be enough.” He narrows his eyes at her. “Never.”

She sighs as she puts her hand on his shoulder. “It has to be.”

Lost in their interaction, I realize I missed something more about this asshole, something she hasn’t told me. It pisses me off. Infuriates me.

“What do—”

“No! No, this is unacceptable,” Warren yells, and I look up at him.

“He’s paying his debt, Black. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Pace stands up and steps toward him. “He’s paying his fucking debt.”

“You mind your fucking business,” Warren sneers at him, now in his face.

“Maybe you should have fucking minded your own back then, then I’d not be so apt to see you fucking ruined.”

“You weren’t man enough then and you still aren’t. Have to have some foreigner man-up for you.”

“Foreigner?” I say on a laugh.

Paige grabs my shirt and attempts to pull me back while stepping around me and grabbing the back of Pace’s shirt. “Let’s go.”

“That’s right, just go. Nobody around here wants you.”

“Your mom did,” Pace eggs him on.

Warren pokes his finger in Pace’s chest.

I grab Paige by the waist and pick her up, setting her on the barstool, and tell her, “Stay.”

When she’s about to spew some shit, I realize it’s deserving. Poor choice of words. She’s not a fucking dog. She’s … mine. But before I can apologize, I hear a crack and turn to see Black fall to his knees, crying out in pain.

“Touch me again, Black,” Pace taunts him.

Warren lunges forward, pushing Pace’s back against the bar.

I sprint toward them as their fists fly, grabbing Warren in a choke hold and dragging him backward. His feet are kicking, his fingers digging into my flesh, but I don’t give a fuck.

I drag him outside the bar and drop a knee to his back so he’s face-first on the sidewalk.

“I’ll sue you for all your worth,” he threatens.

“You’ll shut the fuck up, and when I let go, you’ll fucking walk away like the bitch you are!”

“Vincent, stop!” Paige yells as she comes out the door.

I look up at her and smile. “Just taking out the trash. Grab his department store jacket and the check off the bar for him, will you? He’s leaving.”

“I’m not leaving you out here, you’ll kill him!” she gasps.

“I think you and I both know there’s no fucking way I’d be able to stay away from you, so no, Paige, I won’t kill him. But I will make him wish he were dead.”

“Vincent …” she begins.

“For fuck’s sake, Paige, go.”

Flustered, she runs back into the bar.

“She’s using you for your money, you fucking idiot,” Warren spits.

I unwrap my arm from his neck and grab the back of his mousy-ass hair, pulling him back. “Look at me and tell me it’s about money.”

“You’re a damn fool if you think she wants a man like you.”

“You’re a fucking idiot for wanting her any differently than she is.” I shove his head from my hand and stand up.

“Here.” Paige thrusts the check in my hand and tosses his jacket next to him.

He stands up and glares at her while snatching the check from my hand. “And you keep talking shit about running against me, and you’ll look worse than you do now. Money-grubbing whore.” Before I can say a word, she spits in his face. “You crazy—”

“I won’t kill you, but I know people who would.” I poke him in the chest. “Say one word to her or about her, and I will—”

“If I run against him, I want him to bring whatever he has to a debate.” Paige steps between us. “So, bring it, Black.”

“Consider it fucking brought, Paige.” The way he says her name and looks at her makes me want to tear his fucking face off. But before I have the chance, he storms off to his white SUV.

She turns and looks at me. “You happy now?”

“I’m pleased, but I’ll be happy when my lady kisses me. And I’ll be ecstatic when I’m balls deep inside of her.”

Before she can say a word, I pull her to me and kiss her.

There’s a five second delay, five fucking seconds that I have to wait until she kisses me back, that will be punishable. However, when she grabs my hair and pushes my tongue away with hers, that five seconds seems completely forgivable.

After licking inside my mouth in a way she never has, she sucks on my tongue, releases my hair with one hand, and grabs my cock. Leaning back, she then glares at me.

“I don’t want to be mayor.” She squeezes me harder, trying to prove her point.

I put my hand over hers and do it even harder yet. “I don’t wanna own half this fucking island.”

“Then, why?” She releases me and steps back, shaking her head. “Why?”

“Because that fucker hurt you and is ruining people for fucking sport.” I grab her hips and pull her against me. “And there’s something else you aren’t telling me.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” I ask, walking forward so her back is against the brick wall of the bar. Then I grind against her.

“She has her reasons.” I look left and see Pace with a bag of ice on his eye. “Me,” he admits.

“Pace, you don’t have to.” The hurt in her voice is real, it’s raw, and I fucking want to know what’s causing it. More importantly, I want to know what I can do to stop it.

I look at Pace, who shrugs.

“He ruined my chance at a real fucking life.”

I don’t understand what he’s implying, but the same pain is in his words, his tone, and his eyes.

“I’ll be in the truck. You tell him, Paige, but Vincent, I trust you to keep it to yourself.”

When he walks away, I look at Paige.

She tells me about his ex-girlfriend, the accident, and the abortion that Warren Black took Paces ex to get before fucking and dumping her.

“Maybe Pace should run against him.”

She shakes her head. “Pace needs to heal and trust that love is still possible. He’s a good man, Vincent. He deserves to believe in love.”

I nod and chuckle.

“What?” She pushes my chest, but not hard; it’s playful.

“Those fucking dating apps. What a joke. Maybe we should consider a ladies’ night, and he can work it.” I point to the bar. “Maybe he can meet someone real.”