Shore Feels Right

by Annette Mardis

  “Whatever you say.”

  “You should be used to compliments by now. I’m sure you get plenty.”

  “What I usually get are wolf whistles and lewd remarks from grubby guys cutting lawns, collecting trash, paving streets, or building yet another new hotel on the beach.”

  “Men can be such pigs.”

  She laughed as he intended. “I shouldn’t complain, I know. But it gets tiresome, especially when men, and women, make assumptions about me based on the way I look.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes while Cosby mulled her remark. When they pulled into the parking lot at Captain Clem’s, he did a double take. Monica actually liked this place? The ramshackle exterior resembled an old bait and tackle shop, and the view didn’t improve when they strolled through the front door. Crab traps, fishing nets, floats, rubber boots, and other work-worn gear covered the walls and hung from the ceiling, and most of the seating was crude picnic-style tables. But all were filled and the waiting list had about a dozen names on it already.

  “Can you please tell Clem that Monica’s here?” she asked the buxom, gum-cracking hostess, who huffed with annoyance but nonetheless shuffled off to find the owner.

  Cosby expected Clem to be a grizzled older guy with a big belly, bushy eyebrows, and missing teeth, but a tanned bodybuilder in form-fitting jeans and a muscle shirt grabbed Monica in a bear hug and smooched her noisily.

  “Cosby Williams, meet Clayton Cummings. Clem to his friends.”

  The two men exchanged hellos and handshakes, and Cosby asked, “How do you two know each other?” Based on the familiarity of their greeting, he braced himself for the answer but couldn’t have guessed the real story.

  “Clem comes from a family of commercial fishermen, and they were very vocal in the early days against TEDs,” Monica recalled. “But they turned into dedicated conservationists, and Clem’s father sits on the aquarium’s board of directors.”

  “TEDs?” Cosby asked.

  “Turtle excluder devices. The government mandates them to prevent endangered sea turtles from drowning in shrimp trawl nets.”

  “How do they work?”

  “A TED is a rigid grid of bars with an opening at the top or bottom of the net,” Clem explained. “Shrimp pass through the bars and are caught in the bag end of the trawl. But when turtles, sharks, or other larger animals swim into the net, they hit the grid bars and are forced out through the opening so they can escape.”

  “So why would shrimpers oppose TEDs?”

  “Loss of catch, mostly. And sometimes they got clogged with debris and didn’t work. The TTED helped fix a lot of problems.”

  “Trash and Turtle Excluder Device,” Monica responded to Cosby’s questioning expression.

  Clem turned to her and flashed his straight white teeth.

  “So, gorgeous, I doubt you came here to talk about shrimping. I’m guessing you want a table.”

  “I never could resist your cooking.” She returned his brilliant smile. “And Cosby’s never eaten here before.”

  “Yeah? You new to Gulf Shore?”

  “Kind of. My brother and I bought Nauti-Toys watercraft rentals.”

  “I heard that place was under new ownership. Sure looks a damn sight better on the outside than it used to.”

  “They’ve done a great job with the inside, too,” Monica bragged.

  Cosby felt like puffing out his chest but refrained. “Come by sometime and I’ll show you around.”

  Clem shot him a measuring look. “I just might do that. Excuse me for a minute and I’ll see what I can do about that table.”

  He returned some five minutes later and led them to a small booth in a back room. So much for a quiet, romantic dinner, Cosby thought. A baby banged on his high chair tray with a spoon, two half-drunk men argued about Tampa Bay Buccaneers football, and a mother harangued her teenagers about putting away their cell phones, irritated they were ignoring everyone else at their table.

  Cosby and Monica sat down, and Clem handed them menus, promised their server would be right over, and gave her another smacking kiss on the lips. Cosby wanted to deck the guy.

  “Thanks, Clem, I owe you one,” she said. “Bring Julie back to the aquarium sometime and I’ll let her feed the turtles again.”

  “I will. I promised to sign her up for the trainer for a day program if she made the honor roll, and darned if she didn’t.”

  “Good for her! She’ll love it. Let me know what day and I’ll make sure I’m there.”

  “I will. You two enjoy your dinner.”

  When they were alone at the table, Cosby asked, “Is Julie his daughter?”

  “Yes. She’s in the ninth grade and has worked hard to overcome a learning disability. Now she’s thinking about a career in marine science. She shadowed me for almost a week over the summer and really impressed me with her inquisitive nature and work ethic.”

  “So Clem’s married?”

  “He’s been divorced about two years and has custody of Julie and her brother. Their mother’s an alcoholic, and they don’t see her much. But that’s just as well given how verbally abusive she gets when she’s drunk. That family’s been through hell.”

  Cosby felt chagrined at having been jealous of the restaurant owner’s affectionate exchanges with Monica.

  As if she’d read his mind, she added, “And in case you’re wondering, there’s nothing going on between us. Clem asked me out a few times, but there’s no spark there for me and he understands we’ll never be more than friends.”

  “Does he?”

  “You find it hard to believe a man and a woman can have a platonic relationship?”

  “No, but usually one or the other isn’t satisfied with that and it ends up ruining the friendship.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “Yes, and from what I’ve seen happen to other people.”

  “So, then, you and I can never be buddies?”

  “We already are, aren’t we? And I hope that’s not all we’ll ever be.”

  “Just what do you have in mind, Cosby?”

  Her playful tone emboldened him, and he leaned across the table and kissed her. She smiled and licked her lips.

  “Well, now, I’ve never seen that appetizer on the menu here before.”

  “Wait’ll you see what’s for dessert.”

  “Don’t get carried away or you’ll be disappointed.”

  “A guy can dream, can’t he?”

  Monica laughed. “There’s certainly no harm in that. Now, let’s decide on our main courses.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “Depends on what you’re in the mood for.”

  “If I answer that honestly, you’ll probably slap me across the face for being fresh.” He winked.

  “You’re quite the flirt, Mr. Williams.”

  “I’d say you give as good as you get, Ms. Sims.”

  Her smile turned sultry. “I think you and I are destined to be great friends. And maybe a lot more.”

  Chapter 9

  “So what made you decide to be a marine biologist?” Cosby asked as he worked his way through a pile of fried shrimp and clams.

  Monica finished chewing her bite of broiled grouper and replied, “We spent a great deal of time out on the water when I was growing up. We had a boat and I loved to water ski and kneeboard. Then I earned my scuba certification when I was in high school and it opened up a whole new world for me. I’d always loved sea turtles, but I developed an affinity for other ocean creatures I saw on my dives and wanted to learn more about them. So marine science seemed like a natural fit.”

  “Where’d you go to college?”

  “The University of California at San Diego and its Scripps Institution of Oceanography. I received a partial scholarship and lived at home, which saved a lot of money. I did SURF one summer and of course spent loads of time at the Birch Aquarium, which is the public exploration center for Scripps.”

  “What’s SURF?”<
br />
  “Scripps Undergraduate Research Fellowship. I studied whale acoustics for ten weeks. Interesting enough, but I realized research isn’t my thing. Neither is teaching, which is funny because those are the two careers that Scripps specifically prepares graduates for.”

  “I think you’re a terrific teacher,” Cosby observed.

  “That’s very sweet of you to say. I do love talking to kids about marine life, but I also like the hands-on, day-to-day care of the animals. Gulf Shore lets me do both, plus whatever research I have time for. It’s the ideal job for me.”

  “Where did you work before you came here?”

  “After graduation I landed a job as a water quality specialist at SeaWorld San Diego and moved up pretty quickly to the Aquarium Department, which maintains all the exhibits for fish, invertebrates, amphibians, and reptiles like sea turtles. I mostly did food prep and cleaning, which is tedious and strenuous. There’s a lot of heavy lifting. But it gave me a good background in animal care and valuable experience for my résumé. I did pretty much the same job when I first came here, but it was mainly to get my foot in the door. They told me I’d have plenty of opportunities for advancement, and they kept their promise. How about you? Did you go to college?”

  Cosby looked uncomfortable for a minute and Monica figured she’d hit on a sore spot.

  “I took some community college classes but never got a degree. I was working fifty hours a week and just wasn’t into spending all my free time studying. In hindsight, a business degree probably would be helpful right now, but I’ve managed to do okay so far without one.” He shrugged.

  “Seems to me you’ve done great. And I know a lot of people with college degrees who have the common sense of a gnat. Practical experience can be just as important as book knowledge.”

  “You have both, which is even more marketable,” he noted.

  “Yes, but even without a degree you have more earning potential than I do.”

  “You love what you do, though, right?”

  “Definitely. And I’m crazy about Gulf Shore, the aquarium and the town. I used to think becoming successful meant working my way up to a high-level management position at one of the big aquariums in the country, but I’m not so sure I want that anymore.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time to decide where you want your career to go. You’re what, late twenties?

  “Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age?” Monica scolded without heat.

  “You have nothing to worry about. You’ll still be turning heads when you’re sixty.”

  “That’s flattering, but I’m not telling you how old I am.” She flashed an impish smile.

  “Okay, fine. I’m thirty-five. See how easy that was?”

  “I figured you’re older than I am.”

  “Oh really. If you’re basing that on the gray in my hair, keep in mind that going prematurely gray runs in my family. At least we’ve managed to keep most of our hair.”

  “Good to know. Actually, it was your crow’s-feet.”

  His twinkling eyes negated his scowl and Monica laughed. She loved men who didn’t take themselves too seriously, and he was just so darned cute.

  “I’ll have you know that’s from all the time I’ve spent outside,” Cosby huffed. Then he swigged his beer in an apparent attempt to hide his smile.

  She sipped the wine that was one of Clem’s best-kept secrets and sighed in feigned surrender.

  “If it’s that important to you, I’ll tell you how old I am. But you have to give me a couple of your shrimp.”

  Cosby moved his plate out of her reach. “Hey, now, I’m not so sure that’s a fair trade. These shrimp are almost as mouthwatering as you are.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, just one, then. I’ll even throw in two of my hush puppies.”

  Cosby forked several shrimp onto her plate. “Keep the hush puppies. I’ll take a kiss instead after we leave here.”

  “You were going to get that anyway, big guy.”

  “I wish you hadn’t told me that. Now I’ll wolf down my dinner and pass on dessert.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. The key lime pie here is too good to miss.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s better than sex because I won’t believe you.”

  “Nothing’s better than sex when it’s done right.”

  Cosby opened his mouth to respond, but then the server stopped at their table to offer them drink refills.

  “Thirty-two,” Monica told him when the woman left.

  “What?”

  “Stop thinking about sex.”

  “You can’t say something like that and then change the subject.”

  “I just did. And I’m holding up my end of the deal. I’m thirty-two.”

  “You look younger. Not that thirty-two is old or anything.”

  She laughed. “Thank you. I haven’t always acted my age but I think I’ve made a lot of improvement in the past few months.”

  “I’m not sure what that means. I have no complaints.”

  “You didn’t know me before. I wasn’t a nice person.”

  “I find that difficult to believe.”

  “Just ask anyone at the aquarium. Forget Miss Congeniality, I was Miss Behavior.”

  “Are you referring to anything specific?”

  Apprehension made her stomach flutter and she hoped it didn’t show on her face.

  “Did someone tell you something?” she asked in as casual a tone as she could manage.

  “Never mind. It’s none of my business. And I’m having a tough time believing it anyway.”

  “What did you hear?” she insisted.

  Cosby sighed. “The dock attendant I canned today said you and his uncle, the aquarium’s former marketing director, were…involved. And that after he broke it off, you accused him of sexual harassment and he lost his job.”

  “Did he also tell you his uncle was married?”

  “Yes, and a new father of twins.”

  Monica’s face flushed. That part shamed her the most. “I was very stupid, which is no excuse. I knew it was wrong while I was doing it, but back then I cared more about getting what I wanted. I swear I’m not that woman anymore. But some people won’t ever forget what happened, and I guess I can’t blame them.”

  She tried to read his expression but he gave nothing away.

  “Did you terminate that dock attendant because he deserved it or because he told you something about me you didn’t want to hear?”

  “I booted him because he was disrespectful, I warned him to knock it off, and he kept it up.”

  “Whatever names he called me, I’m sure I had it coming.” She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly as unpleasant thoughts crowded her mind. Will I ever live this down? And what does Cosby think of me now? I wouldn’t be surprised if he never called me again. If I were him, I’d run far and fast. A woman with a history of cheating and poaching surely wasn’t his style.

  “So, where does this leave us?” Monica steeled herself for the answer. While she hadn’t been looking for a boyfriend when she met Cosby, she found herself wanting to get to know him better. There was just something about the man beyond his obvious good looks. She felt…safe with him. Content.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Now that you know the truth, I can’t imagine you’ll want to continue seeing me.”

  “I admit it was brutal to hear, especially when that smarmy punk said it in front of my chief mechanic. And I still can’t picture you doing something like that. It seems so out of character.”

  “Which shows just how little you know about me.”

  Cosby reached across the table and clasped her hand.

  “We all make mistakes, Monica. You didn’t lie to me. You owned up to it right away. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the end of it unless there’s a good reason to bring it up again. And it doesn’t change the fact that I’m very attracted to you and enjoy your company.”

  “What exactly does ‘a
good reason to bring it up again’ mean? Because if you’re sitting around wondering whether I’ll cheat again, we obviously have trust issues. And even though that’s the worst thing I’ve ever done, it’s not the only thing I regret. That debacle cost me my boyfriend at the time, Evan Sanders. Later, I tried to stir up trouble between him and Dani, which landed me in trouble at work. My last boyfriend, Tanner, dumped me, too, because he didn’t like the way I treated others. And my own sister told me to stop being a bitch if I didn’t want people to hate me.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty harsh.”

  “I thought so, too, at first,” Monica agreed. “But she was right. I’ve worked hard since then to make amends and be a better person. Many of my coworkers gave me a second chance but not all of them. I’m afraid there’s a part of me that will always be a little spoiled and self-involved.”

  “I consider myself a pretty good judge of character, and I see a lot of good in you. Think about how great you were with my nephews. They still talk about what a terrific time they had with you at the aquarium, and they’d be thrilled to see you again.”

  “I’d love to see them, too.”

  “We’ll have to arrange that, then. My point is, kids can see through people who aren’t genuine. So maybe you should give yourself a break and forget about the past. It’s over, done. What matters is how you act now. That’s all I care about. And I happen to think you’re pretty special.”

  Tears pooled in Monica’s eyes as she squeezed his hand. She was almost afraid to believe that Cosby meant what he said, but he certainly appeared to be sincere.

  “Thank you,” she whispered around the lump in her throat. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

  “Now, let’s finish our dinner so we can have some of that key lime pie you’re so nuts about.”

  * * * *

  As soon as his behind hit the driver’s seat of his car, Monica leaned over, cupped the back of his head, and treated him to a brief but searing kiss.

  “That’s for taking me to dinner, letting me have a few of your shrimp, and not believing the worst of me,” she told him.

  He grinned and drove away from the beach to a quiet family-owned coffee shop. There, they sipped the signature house blend and talked for more than an hour about their favorite sports teams, music, movies, TV shows, and other typical first-date topics.