My Uptown Girl by C. Morgan

Author:C. Morgan [Morgan, C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BrixBaxter Publishing
Published: 2020-07-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Fulton

We worked on the last string after another excellent day of fishing.

Stanley grunted, pulling up the pot. “Hell yeah!” he shouted when he saw a healthy amount of lobster. “We’re rich!”

I laughed, knowing we were anything but rich. We’d pay our bills and maybe get to buy a little extra food for the month, but we were far from rich. “Don’t spend all of your money in one place.”

“I was thinking about buying a house in the Hamptons,” he teased.

“I’m sure the neighbors would love to have you,” I quipped. “Your redneck ass would scare them, especially if you dared to drink from a can of beer.”

“Hey, I can be proper when needed.”

“No, you can’t.”

He grinned. “Nope, I can’t.”

“Let’s get this in and we’ll head back.”

He eyebrows raised. “No shit?”

“No shit. We don’t have much more room and I don’t want to end up losing part of our catch. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Not today?”

“Not today.”

We quickly worked to finish up the chores before I got behind the wheel and started back inland. “Are you taking the delivery to your girlfriend?” Stanley asked.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying. She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’s just the woman you’re fucking?” he questioned.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growled.

He burst into laughter. “She’s your woman.”

She was my woman. The woman was mine. “Whatever. Don’t make it a thing.”

“It is a thing.”

I ignored him, focusing on the water in front of me. There were a lot of buoys in the area. I didn’t want to be the dick that ran over another man’s shit. It happened to me and it pissed me off. It was bad form. I wasn’t necessarily buddies with any of the other fishermen, but I wasn’t a deliberate dick.

While I drove the boat, I thought about Amara and what was happening between us. She was a hard read. Usually, I was the one running away after sex. The two times we had sex, she was either kicking me out or running away. I couldn’t help but think maybe I was being used and just didn’t know it yet. It was hard to feel used when it was a mutually beneficial situation. I was getting great sex and so was she. How could that be bad?

“How is the remote working?” I asked him.

“That thing is stupid. I just use my phone.”

“You figured out how to use your phone to control your TV?” I asked with genuine amazement.

He shrugged. “I’m pretty smart.”

“No, you’re not.”

He was unfazed by my attempt to insult. “I don’t have to get up. I sit on my couch with my phone and not worry about a stupid remote.”

“You never found the other one?”

“Nope. Never really looked.”

“I bet you’re going to find it when you move your couch.”

“Why would I move my couch?” he asked as if it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

I had to keep from slapping my forehead. “I don’t know. To clean?”

“That’s dumb. Why would it be dirty under the couch?”

I shook my head.

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