Dear Aaron(95)

“We have some gators in Texas. There’s a state park by Houston where you can go and you can usually see a bunch. I went camping there one time.”

One corner of his mouth tilted up as he chewed. “Look at you, Rebel Without a Cause.”

With anyone else, I’d probably think they were picking on me, but I could see the affection on Aaron’s face. I could feel the kindness that just came off him in waves, so I winked back at him. “I live life on the edge. I should start teaching a class on how to be bad.”

“Right? Quitting your job, coming to Florida even though you were worried….” He trailed off with a grin and a look out of the corner of his eye.

“I pretty much have my masters and license to practice. I’ll teach people everything I know.”

I didn’t miss the other quick look he shot my way. “As long as they don’t ask about boyfriends.”

I shoved at his shoulder before I realized what I was doing and laughed, loud, so much louder than I had so far. “I’m just waiting for the right one. I thought you were on board with me waiting now?”

Those deep brown eyes met mine, and he flashed those white teeth at me. “I am. What are you rushing for?”

That was pretty much the complete opposite of what he’d been drilling into my head since he’d found out about my lack of relationships, but he was right. What was the rush? It wasn’t like any other guy I’d meet any time soon—or ever—would or could compare to this one. I could feel it. Clearing my throat, I looked down at my bowl of oatmeal again as I said, “The good thing is, now I can quit going to church trying to pick up all the divorced and widowed dads.”

His snicker had me glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.” I smirked, taking in that handsome face that had me sighing on the inside. “Is that okay?”

The spoon was on the way to his mouth when he said, “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” Then he winked again. “Eat your food so we can go,” he ordered right before taking another bite, his eyes on me, his cheeks showing he was smiling even as he chewed.

Why? What had I done in another lifetime to deserve this?

I did what he said and managed to get about three bites in before his words really clicked. “Where are we going?” I asked him the second I’d swallowed my food.

“Fishing,” he said casually.

I said the words slowly to make sure I’d heard him correctly. “Did you say fishing or swimming?”

That time he did slide me a sneaky look. “Fishing,” he enunciated.

“Swimming?”

Aaron finally turned to look at me with a smile on his beautifully sculpted face. “F-i-s-h-i-n-g.”

I hummed in my throat and ate two bites before I said, just low enough for him to barely hear me, “I don’t really want to.”

He had the nerve to wink at me again. “I figured. That’s why we should go.”

“I don’t have a rod.”

“There are some here you can borrow.”

Setting the plate on my lap, I started to reach for my left wrist with my right hand, “My wrist is a little sore….”

He snorted, seeing straight through my crap.

I’d asked for this, hadn’t I? It didn’t mean I had to be graceful about it the entire time. With a groan, I pretty much made a crying face and slowly nodded. Basically whining out a “Fine” that had him grinning in triumph. “I’m not touching it while it’s still alive though.”

Aaron had a big grin on his face when he agreed, “Deal.”



“How have you never been fishing before?”

He hadn’t been lying when he said there were extra fishing rods at the house. Part of me had been hoping that he’d change his mind… or that it would rain, but neither thing had happened. After we’d gone to get four fishing licenses—one for him, one for me, another for Des and Brittany, who had overheard us arguing about going fishing and decided they should get one too—I’d started to accept that it was going to happen regardless of whether I wanted it to or not.

I could have done without it.

Standing beside the truck, with both poles in my hands, I shrugged as he pulled out the minnows he’d bought at the same store we’d gotten our licenses at. Fresh minnows that I wasn’t going to touch. Nope.

“My dad took my brothers a few times from what I remember, just off the pier at the beach closest to us,” I explained, watching him. “After he moved back to California, there was never enough time when he’d come down to visit to just… take us fishing, you know?” I eyed the bucket he had the minnows in and grimaced. “Not that it’s ever really interested me to begin with.”

Aaron snickered with his back to me. “It’s pretty relaxing if you give it a chance.”

I highly doubted that.

“It won’t be that bad. If you hate it, you don’t ever have to do it again,” he told me, making it seem like that would be the case for the rest of my life. Just like that. I’d never have to do it again.

While I appreciated what he was implying, I accepted that I needed to quit being a chicken and just… do things. Even if it meant touching a minnow to put it on the hook or whatever it was called. Even if I screamed while I did it and maybe cried during and after. “Did your dad take you fishing when you were younger?”