Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

No one spoke for a moment, all of them probably recalling the day he’d been cuffed and thrown into the back of a police car. The guilty plea that followed, despite being advised otherwise by his court-appointed attorney. He’d done the crime, hadn’t he? So he’d pay for it.

“So was it a deal breaker?” Andrew asked, easing the building tension with a half-smile. “Because she came to your defense pretty hard in the Hut. If she’d had a bat handy, I’d be limping behind the bar tonight.”

Half of Rory wanted them to stop talking about Olive. The other half? Didn’t want to talk about anything but her. The latter half won by a landslide. “I’m not sure it broke the deal. I think I might have crushed it before she got the chance.”

Jamie’s sigh was long suffering. “I didn’t even get the opportunity to judge her.”

“You’d have loved her,” Rory said, pressing his thumbs into his eye sockets to try and stop the images of her walking away over and over again. “She almost got hit by a fucking bus because a book distracted her.”

“Which book?”

“I think I’ve seen you read it before. Something by Vonnegut.”

“How dare you mess this up for me,” Jamie deadpanned. “I kind of hate you.”

He laughed, but it lacked authenticity. “Join the club.”

The three of them watched as a group of joggers ran past down in the middle of the street, moving in the direction of the boardwalk. Not an unusual sight in Long Beach, but groups of joggers that size didn’t usually route themselves through a residential area—especially one on the lower end of the income spectrum.

“You ever seen them pass through this way before?”

“No,” Andrew responded with a head shake. “And I’m always up at this time working.”

Jamie and Rory traded an eye roll.

But when they eased back into silence, Rory couldn’t stop thinking about the joggers. They got up every morning, same as him. Odds are, most of them didn’t love their jobs. They were probably tired, needed vacations. But despite all of it, they woke up every morning and achieved a goal. They took different routes to reach it, changed, adapted to the terrain and worked toward something that satisfied them.

All right, so maybe the joggers weren’t the first to shake these new revelations loose. He’d spent a lot of time staring up at the ceiling last night. Thinking of Olive, yeah, but he’d also done a lot of wondering about himself. How long could he expect to continue in this same repetitive holding pattern of lifeguarding and bartending with nothing to show for it? He was already tired of it at twenty-four. He never reached a goal, like the joggers did.

Hell, like his brothers did. Little by little, Andrew improved the Castle Gate, turning it from a dive to a respected neighborhood staple. No longer the kid who’d one day inherit the landmark bar, he was now a legitimate businessman. Jamie would receive his teaching tenure soon. Sometimes Rory thought their middle brother fell back into their patented routine of lifeguarding and bartending every summer because it was a family custom. Really, though, with his intelligence and college degree, he could do anything.

That left Rory. He couldn’t do anything he wanted.

But maybe it was time to try something.

To set a goal and jog for it.

Rory cleared his throat. “I know it’s not the best time to ask, seeing as how I fucked up yesterday, but, uh…” Striving for casual even though his pulse was ticking his ears, Rory shrugged. “You’re stressed out, A. Between the bar and the beach, you’ve got at least sixty employees to juggle.” No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make eye contact with Andrew, afraid he’d see wariness there. “I’ve been around long enough to know how to place liquor orders for the bar. Receive deliveries. Make sure the kitchen and bar are stocked. You can show me how to do payroll.” He swallowed. “Let me help.”

Rory stared out at the horizon and held his breath, waiting for a response. He could feel Jamie trading a silent look with their older brother, probably shocked out of their minds. That made three of them. As he waited for the verdict that suddenly seemed like the most important one of his life, thoughts of Olive crept in. Chances were slim to none that he’d ever be a college graduate. Or someone who read a ton of books. Odds were he’d never have a nine-to-five.

Still. He couldn’t help but wonder… If he changed his route and worked hard enough, could Olive be proud to be with a guy like him?

“Can you get to the bar early tonight?” Andrew asked, squinting one eye over at him. “Payroll is a little tricky, but it shouldn’t take you long to pick it up.”