Chapter 1-2
1137 Words
Jack had worked as a fisherman on Hazel Island, a small island in Puget Sound, for over a decade. On his boat, the Perseverance, he was at home. He didn't have to deal with people demanding things from him that he didn't have. It was just him, the sea, and the stink of freshly caught fish.
Not that fresh fish should literally stink. He'd learned that quickly when he'd started. He'd been amazed to find that fish straight from the water smelled and tasted of the ocean itself. He never sold fish that actually stunk–only a hack who didn't care about his catch or his customers would do that.
Jack pulled in a net filled with salmon, the fish wiggling and flopping about in one last attempt at freedom. But the net was lighter than usual, and when he looked it over, he realized he hadn't caught nearly as many as he'd expected.
And the salmon—they were strangely small, not at all like he'd been used to catching over the years.
Jack used to catch crabs primarily. Within the last year, though, he'd begun fishing for salmon as his main source of income. Crab fishing in particular had started to dry up due to overfishing.
Although the waters around Hazel Island were vast, they only had a few different species of fish available for commercial fishing. When Jack had moved to the island, he hadn’t realized that there were better fishing grounds elsewhere in the Sound. At that point, though, he’d already felt at home on Hazel Island and hadn’t wanted to leave.
Jack grunted. There were ups and downs with this business: bad weather, bad catches. Some years, he struggled to keep up with all the fish he'd catch. Other years, it was like the entire ocean was devoid of life. Feast or famine–that was the life of a fisherman.
But it was always temporary. This, however... Jack had a sinking feeling in his gut that this was a bad omen. He’d naively assumed the overfishing wouldn't be an issue like it had with crabbing.
Based on this catch, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be so lucky a second round.
By the time he returned to shore and began packing the salmon for sale with the help of a few guys he hired seasonally, he was in a dark mood. If the other guys noticed how pathetic this catch was, they didn't mention it.
Hazel Island was a sleepy town with no more than a thousand residents. The population swelled with tourists in the summer, but now that it was fall, the island activity had slowed down.
Jack made his usual stops at the various grocery stores and restaurants that bought salmon directly from him. His last stop was the Hazel Island bed and breakfast.
Gwen Parker, the owner, stepped outside the moment he turned off the engine of his truck. "Oh good, there you are! You're late," she teased.
Gwen had moved to Hazel Island five years ago to open her bed and breakfast. With her red hair, freckles, and wide smile, she'd quickly become a favorite in the community. She was always friendly, always willing to lend a hand or an ear. Her business had taken off and had yet to slow down. She'd somehow managed to draw in tourists for the rainy winter months when no one else on the island had done so.
Gwen Parker was a marvel that Jack did not understand one bit.
He looked at his watch. "I'm not late," he replied.
"You're usually here by eleven. It's eleven-thirty."
He looked around when he entered the kitchen of the bed and breakfast. Based on the quiet emanating from the dining room, they weren't busy.
"Sorry," he said gruffly. "I'll put these in the fridge."
He carried in Gwen's usual order, setting them in the same spot, something he'd done for five years.
When he returned outside, Gwen was standing by his truck, her head c****d to the side.
The sun had begun to shine through the clouds, and it made the strands of gold in Gwen's hair stand out. Jack had always wondered how many colors her hair held.
He'd wondered it, but he'd never, ever, attempted to see it for himself.
"You might be interested to hear Gigi came by this morning for some breakfast," said Gwen, her tone casual. "She seemed very put out. She asked for hash browns, which she never does."
Jack gritted his teeth. "So?"
"Aren't you two seeing each other?"
"No." He paused. "Not anymore."
"Ah. Well, she told Darla all about it, apparently. She was spitting mad. Said men were absolute beasts and she hoped a certain fisherman fell off his boat and drowned." Gwen's lips quirked. "I think you made her mad. I've never seen Gigi say anything mean about anyone. I think she's even nice to mosquitoes."
Jack let out a reluctant laugh. "I probably screwed that up," he admitted. He peered more closely at Gwen. "Since when do you care?"
Gwen seemed taken aback. "We're friends, aren't we? And I thought, you know, I could give you some advice—"
Jack groaned.
"From a fellow woman. That's all. I'm just saying, you might need to be more upfront with women in the future. If they think you want a relationship but you don't—"
He held up a hand. "Gigi knew the rules. She thought she could change them. Nothing more to it than that."
"Oh." Gwen looked embarrassed. "Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for. We had our fun, it's over." He jangled his keys, hoping Gwen would take the hint.
"Are you going to be single for the rest of your life? Sounds pretty lonely to me," said Gwen.
What had he done to deserve this? First, Gigi throwing a fit. Next, Gwen prying into his personal life. He and Gwen might be friends, but they weren't friends of that sort.
Jack Benson didn't have any friends he talked with about those things. That was what women did: talk, talk, talk. Talking about their feelings until you wanted to get on the nearest boat and sail until you hit the edge of the world.
"Are you offering to fix that problem?" he drawled. "Because it sounds to me like you're interested."
Gwen blushed. Being a redhead, she blushed easily and often. It was one of the things Jack found charming about her.
"I am not offering to fix anything. I'm just wondering." She spread her hands. "I just want people to be happy."
"Then how about you stick to making your customers happy. I'm doing just fine on my own."
"Sounds like someone doth protest too much."
Jack shot her an annoyed look before he took off.
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