Wood's Wreck Read Online Free

toasted her. “‘Preciate that,” he said drawing out the first word with his Cajun accent.
    At least there was one bright spot today, he thought, watching her butt sway as she walked away. But his overall state of affairs was troublesome. There were slow seasons in the Keys, but nothing like the drought Mac was now in. Usually the spring months were quiet as lobster and stone crab seasons wound down. The weather was sketchy and there were long spans where they were unable to get offshore for the dolphin fish that were just starting their early summer run. As the weather warmed, though, it was easier to get out.
    But this year the fish hadn’t been there. Nothing to worry about in the big picture, but right now, it was bad. Ditto for lobster season … at least so far. Lobster would usually hold him into the fall, when stone crab came in season and the snapper and grouper came into the shallow reefs. This year it wasn’t happening. He had looked around for other work, but it was the same everywhere. Mac didn’t go out every day, like some of the other fishermen, but he paid well and didn’t mind if Trufante freelanced. 
    He was deep into his beer when a long-legged woman pulled out the chair next to him. Turning toward her, he couldn’t help but notice her expanded chest. 
    “Hello there, little lady,” he said, putting on his best accent. “Where’d y’all come from?”
    “Well hello there, yourself,” she said as she slid onto the seat. “Buy you a beer?”
    He drained his beer and grinned. Once in a while he could count on getting hit on by a tourist woman, out for a good time with a local. Something romantic about it, he guessed. The barmaid was coming back down the bar and he signaled toward her, allowing the woman to order. A minute later, the drinks were in front of them and she broke the silence. 
    “I’m Cayenne,” she said, holding her hand out.
    He took it in his callused palm. “Tru. Really it’s Alan Trufante, but my friends call me Tru.” He smiled. 
    They huddled closer as one round became two, and soon the beer was the chaser for the tequila shots they were toasting with. 
    “You know, I was thinking we maybe could have a time down in Key West,” Trufante said as he placed his hand on her knee. He had been more than happy to have her company and let her buy drinks. 
    “That could be fun,” she giggled. “But I was really looking for someone to help me with a little problem I have.” She placed her hand over his. 
    “Thought we were getting on fine. I don’t know if we should bugger it up with business.”
    “Oh, please. We can still have a good time.” She slid her hand north.
    “Well. What kind of help are you needing?” he asked.
    “Just a strong guy and a boat.” She squeezed his arm.
    “Well, I can maybe help with part of that equation, but I don’t have a boat.”
    “Maybe you could borrow one?” she asked as she put her other hand on his other thigh and started walking her fingers up his leg. 
    He wasn’t about to stop her now. This was leading in a very favorable direction. “You want to tell your new friend Tru what exactly you’re needing?”
    Her hand inched higher. “I got a line on some lobster traps that are abandoned. Heard there might be some money in it. I’d be willing to split it with you.”
    The alcohol and her boobs pressing against him, never mind the chance for a payday, must have altered his rational thought process. Abandoned traps were often loaded with lobster, and he could sure use the money. 
    “Maybe we can work something out. I might be needing a little more encouragement, if you get my drift.”
    She leaned closer. “I’ve got all the encouragement you need, baby.”
     
    ***
     
    Trufante reluctantly pulled the sheet off and got out of bed. He glanced over at the sleeping body next to him, once again admiring her curves. They might not all be real, but they were fun. Moonlight showed through the thin curtain covering the