What is always under the surface.

I give him a polite smile before turning toward the door. “Goodbye, Richard. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Curses follow me out. A few degrading remarks. It all bounces off me because I refuse to let it sink in. I’ve heard it before, and he’s no different. In fact, I’ll even accept I might deserve a little of it since I willingly engaged in some really fantastic sex with him that I could see definitely making him think it could lead to other things.

But it’s the God’s honest truth. I never led him on.

I don’t lead any of them on.

I tell them how it is right up front and just as is typical to any man, they have no problems accepting my conditions because hey… the sex is phenomenal.

Because, after all, men really are looking for one thing only.

I hastily exit the hotel, my high heels clacking on the pavement. The warm summer breeze floats over my exposed skin, and I breathe in deeply of the sea salt that permeates the air.

Damn, I love my home here in the Outer Banks.

I love my family. I love my friends.

Contrary to what most men would believe about me, I have tremendous capacity to love. It’s just something I would prefer to avoid outside of my friends and family.

I get in my Jeep, a present I bought myself last year after I made a killing off just one sale. Unfortunately for me, the real estate market is tight, and there aren’t many houses available on the island nowadays. In hindsight, it was probably a stupid idea to become a realtor, but shit… I didn’t know what else to do with my life. It didn’t help that my first sale was of a mega mansion to famed author, Gavin Cooke, because I just sort of assumed everything else would be that easy.

Wrong!

It’s freakin’ hard to make a living in real estate. And to make matters worse, Gavin ended up stealing my roommate, which has really put a ding in my budget.

Okay, well… he didn’t steal her. Just knocked her up and moved her in with him. And fine… they’re in love (gag) and they have a beautiful daughter now (nothing to gag about there—she’s adorable), but what about me? I’m floundering here and don’t know what to do. So poor right now that the only good meals I get are on the weekends when I might have a date.

It’s definitely time to step up and figure out what the hell to do with my life, because I can’t keep living this way. I wonder to myself if when I say that, I only mean as far as expenses go, but I think I might mean something else. That scene back there in the hotel with Richard is getting really old, and as much as I like to pretend that I always hold the upper hand in these situations, I know that, deep down, it still makes me feel like shit about myself.

Chapter 1

Casey

I love this bar.

Just like the song that gets played on the jukebox quite often. My older brother, Hunter, bought this property going on almost two years ago, refurbished the interior, and renamed it The Last Call. Since then, it’s become one of the hottest places on the Outer Banks to hang during the summer months.

It’s casual and laid back, just like the beach bum my brother is and always has been. The Markham family has salt water in our veins, having lived here forever. Me and my other brother, Brody—who is Hunter’s identical twin—are what I’d call frolickers. We like to sit on the beach and play in the ocean, but that’s the extent of our communion with the sun and surf. My dad, however, is a fisherman and Hunter was on a surfboard from the time he could practically walk, so both have a much more personal connection to the ocean. That doesn’t mean I love it less but just in a different, gentler way. So very different from Hunter, who respects the ocean and knows he can never control it, can only ride what it gives him. Dedication and natural talent led Hunter to a very successful professional surfing career, from which he retired to buy this bar.

Or rather… he actually retired from surfing to stay here on the islands so he could be with his one true love, Gabby Ward.

Who also happens to be my best friend since we were little bitty things.

It took a while to get used to the idea of Hunter and Gabby being together. At first, it just plain gave me the wiggins to see them showing open and sensual affection with each other. I mean… for God’s sake… we all grew up together.

But the concept of those two being a couple has grown on me. Hunter and Gabby are engaged, and she will one day be my real sister in addition to being my best friend.

“Can I get another beer, Casey?”

My head swivels to look at ol’ Roy Becham, sitting at the opposite end of the bar. He’s a fixture in here. I give him a quick smile and head down his way, grabbing a fresh and newly chilled pint glass from the cooler. “Sure thing.”

And this is where my life currently stands.

Tending bar at The Last Call because I can’t afford to continue living on my own with what I make as a real estate agent.

About three weeks ago, I plucked up the courage, swallowed my pride, and begged Hunter for a job. Now, don’t get me wrong… there is nothing shameful about working in a bar. Not only does Hunter cover frequent shifts here, but Brody also worked here for a while when he first got out of prison.

No, the part that has me swallowing my pride is in having to beg a family member for help.

Turns out… no begging was needed. Hunter gladly gave me the work, offered to loan me money if I needed it, and then proceeded to grill me on the state of my finances to see how much trouble I was really in. After an hour of assuring him that I wasn’t starving to death, but just needed a little extra to make up for losing Savannah as a roommate, he finally left it alone.

My mom, on the other hand, is not happy I’m working here. While both my parents love my brothers and me unconditionally, I know that I am the “disappointment” in the family. And that’s saying a lot, seeing as how Brody spent five years in prison. In fairness, however, his transgressions are forgiven by all of us because he didn’t actually do the crime.

I, on the other hand, have not measured up in any way. My senior year in high school was very difficult for me, and I sucked at college. I barely lasted a year there, partying my ass off and having the time of my life. I don’t think I really caught on to the concept of needing to buckle down and study. How could I when it was just so much damn fun to be free and young with no one to make me do anything?

“Casey, baby,” my mom had said with obvious affection but a little bit of annoyance one night at a family dinner. “It’s time to figure out what you want to be when you grow up.”

I’m almost twenty-six years old, and my mom doesn’t think I’ve grown up yet.

She may be right.

I pour the beer from the tap, keeping the glass tilted at an angle to keep the foam head minimal. When it’s full, I set it down before Roy and reach out to grab the appropriate amount of money he has laying in front of him on the bar.

“Keep a couple dollars for yourself, honey,” he says in a gruff voice.

I take two extra dollars and stick them in my tip jar. “You’re a sweetie, Roy.”

“So you gonna marry me then?” he asks with a toothless grin. Roy has to be in his eighties. He’s a retired shrimper and used to hang out at this bar before Hunter bought it. He was displaced for a bit during the remodeling but once it was re-opened for business, Roy’s butt has pretty much been parked on that same stool at the corner of the bar.

“I’m not marrying any man,” I tell him with a wink. “No way am I going to be pinned down.”

Roy cackles and holds his beer up to me in salute. “You remind me of my sweet Georgia Mae. Did I ever tell you about the time she left me at the altar and I had to hunt her down and drag her back kicking and screaming? She was a pistol that woman, but after the honeymoon, she was smiling big.”