“One day at a time,” he mumbled as he made his way to the bathroom.

He thought back to those dark blue eyes and the heat he’d seen reflected there when Cam had been looking up at him, their bodies just a few centimeters apart. It had taken every ounce of control that Gannon possessed not to reach for Cam, to feel those muscles, to slide his lips over Cam’s and taste the sexy maleness mixed with the beer he’d had while they’d sat there as the sun had gone down.

Tuesday was not going to get there fast enough.

For years, Gannon had put work first, rarely entertaining the idea of dating someone. And never someone like Cam. Now, it seemed to be the only damn thing he could think about.

Only he knew the key to getting Cam’s attention was by taking things slow, being patient.

It would be worth the wait, he told himself.

And it was a damn good thing Gannon was a patient man.

Eight

Two days later, Tuesday

“I’m headin’ out,” Teague announced just seconds after he stuck his head in the door.

Cam offered a two-finger wave but didn’t look up from the appointment book he was reviewing.

Teague was one of the hardest-working men Cam knew. He never missed a day for any reason, and he didn’t bitch and moan about the chores that needed to be done. However, Teague did have one serious downfall when it came to the office. According to him, he was allergic to paperwork, so he preferred to come in about the time the first customer arrived, which—Cam glanced over at his watch—would be sometime in the very near future. Between spending his day on the lake and helping out in the boat repair shop, Teague was a busy guy, but he never seemed to run out of energy, just as long as he wasn’t asked to deal with paperwork. On the rare occasion that occurred, Teague was known to break out in hives.

Not that any of them had ever been witness to it.

But it explained why he opted to bolt rather than come inside.

Cam was doing his best to review the list of activities going on that day while ignoring the frequent interruptions. They were booked solid for the entire week, and although it was Tuesday, it felt like Monday all over again. Things were chaotic, and it was only nine thirty in the morning. Two cups of coffee in and he wasn’t sure he was going to make it. Being that it was the first week of June, school was letting out, and more and more people were descending on the marina, hoping to get a few hours out in the sun. That would be the case for the next few months.

“Me, too!” Holly called out. “I’ve got the retirement home outing today at the park. Keith’s helping Hudson on a repair.”

Hudson Ballard was their lone boat mechanic. The guy was reliable and efficient, but there was only one problem. Well, technically it wasn’t really a problem, more of an obstacle they’d had to learn to work with. Hudson didn’t speak. At all. Not once had Cam ever heard a single sound come out of Hudson’s mouth.

Though the guy had worked at the marina for the last year, Cam knew very little about Hudson, other than he was an ASE master technician, could identify a problem with an engine faster than anyone Cam knew, and he didn’t speak, having been born mute. Since Hudson hadn’t elaborated on the latter, Cam hadn’t asked.

That hadn’t stopped them from hiring him on, either. Hudson was good at what he did. Not only could he repair an engine in half the time it’d taken their last full-time mechanic, he was also good with a paint gun, which had helped Hudson build a rather lucrative little side business painting boats. And because they’d gotten along so well with Hudson, it had been Dare’s idea for them to learn American Sign Language in order to communicate more effectively. The only person who’d been hesitant had been Teague, but Cam wasn’t sure why that was.

“What about you?” Cam asked Roan, not bothering to look up from the appointment book.

“I’ve got one at eleven and another at three. Takin’ some guys out this afternoon on the PWCs.”

“PCWs,” Dare corrected.

“There’s no such thing,” Roan argued. “It’s PWC. Personal water craft. You can’t just switch the letters around because you feel like it.”

Dare lifted his eyebrows and smirked as Roan backed out the door. “I just did.”

“Whatever, man,” Roan grumbled, smiling as he left.

Ignoring them, Cam skimmed the book with his finger. That left… “Who’s takin’ the ten o’clock on the pontoon?”

“Which one’s that?” Dare asked, darting into the room and then back out before Cam could answer.

“Corporate thing,” he hollered. “Ten people.”

“No can do, man,” Dare replied, yelling from the other room. “I’ve got a lunch thing today. Will be gone from eleven to two.”

Great. That meant Cam was going to have to pitch in and take the group out. As it was, he hadn’t stopped thinking about Gannon Burgess since the moment he’d met the man, and especially not after the short time they’d spent together down on the pier. Spending a couple of hours in his presence didn’t seem like a good idea—not for Cam’s state of mind, anyway. But it looked as though he didn’t really have a choice.

“Who’s the lucky winner?” Dare inquired when he came back. “Who gets to hang out with you today?” Dare didn’t wait for Cam to answer, he simply dragged the open appointment book away and peered down at it. “Holy shit. Is that the Gannon Burgess?”

“No idea,” Cam answered. “Who is the Gannon Burgess?”

“Seriously? You haven’t heard of Burgess Entertainment? The gaming conglomerate. Rise of Vengeance. Damn, dude, where you been? Hidin’ under a rock?”

Apparently.

“Hold up,” Cam said, glancing over at Dare. “Roan’s the gamer. How the hell do you know about this shit?”

Dare shrugged, looking sheepish. “I might play. A little.”

Until now, Cam had thought Roan was the only gamer in the group, spending a vast amount of his time with a keyboard. Not that anyone said anything about the man’s video game obsession considering he made a nice chunk of change off those things. Who would’ve thought that they’d actually pay people to beta test and beat video games?

Dare smacked Cam on the back. “Looks like you’ll be spendin’ some time in the sun today, man. Good thing, too. You’re lookin’ kinda washed-out.”

Cam laughed. If anyone looked washed-out, it certainly wasn’t him.

Dare’s tone turned serious. “So, you got an issue with this Burgess guy?”

“Not at all,” Cam lied, feeling his face heat.

“Wait a minute.” Dare’s eyes narrowed, his mouth curling upward. “Was he the one who showed up on Sunday?”

Cam didn’t get a chance to answer. As though summoned, Gannon opened the front door and, he and Milly walked in, the ding of the alarm not going off until after the door was closed, which meant it was quite possible that they’d heard Dare’s question.

If they had, they were pretending they hadn’t. And Cam was okay with that.

“Mornin’,” Dare greeted the pair. “Y’all ready to get out on the water?”

“We are,” Gannon confirmed, his gaze sliding over to Cam briefly before returning to Dare. “Will you be the one going out with us?”

Dare grinned and slapped Cam on the back. Hard. “Not me. Cam’s your man today. You’re gettin’ the best of the best.”

Cam’s your man today? Seriously? He couldn’t believe his friend had just said that.

If Cam wasn’t mistaken, that was a slight blush that washed over Gannon’s youthful features. Obviously he’d heard the double entendre the same way Cam had.

Hoping not to give away his own interest, Cam did a quick visual sweep of the man’s body. Gone was the starchy suit, and in its place were a pair of shorts, a white T-shirt that reflected his company’s logo, and yes, a pair of—wait for it—boat shoes. All of which looked as though they’d never been worn before, which amused Cam. The guy clearly spent too much time indoors.