The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(15)

“What did she say?”

“She said I needed a nudge.”

“Interesting.” That shocked me. Rory didn’t tell me Angie was the one who proposed. “Well … are you done? If I’m going to secretly trim your beard, I should do it now. I have some errands to run.”

“Okay. We can do it now.” He set his plate in the sink and nodded toward the hallway.

I followed him to the master bathroom where he shrugged off his shirt with his good arm and tossed the shirt on the floor.

“Have you trimmed a beard before?” he asked, pulling the trimmer from its base and turning it on like he was testing the battery.

“Yes. I’ve trimmed lots of things.” I plucked the trimmer from his hand. “Sit.” I nodded to the vanity bench that wasn’t there when Fisher lived alone.

He sat down, draping a towel over his lap to catch the hair. I focused on his face. Not his scars. And definitely not his abs or happy trail. Nope. I was a total professional. Except for my thoughts. They played in my head like a day at an amusement park.

I’ve been in that tub naked.

I know what your penis looks like because I gave you a blowjob in that doorway to your closet.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“What?” I turned on the trimmer.

“You were grinning.”

I really needed to practice a straight face while fantasizing about the naked fisherman.

“Sorry. I won’t smile again.” I started near his sideburns.

“Don’t apologize. It’s a great smile.”

I felt his gaze on my face, but I kept my focus on the trimmers so I didn’t do anything stupid like nick his ear or kiss him.

“Did you leave a boyfriend behind in Michigan?”

He made it hard to control my breathing in his close proximity, and asking me personal questions didn’t help the situation. “I left several boyfriends behind in Michigan, but I left them long before I decided to move back here.”

“Do you like Colorado better than Michigan? Or did you want to be closer to family?”

I wanted to be closer to you.

“A little bit of both. I think I knew that if I didn’t move back here, your beard would never get trimmed.”

“Ha ha …”

I stole a tiny glance into his eyes before resuming the beard trim. “I do love it here. And I missed my mom. We no sooner reunited after five years of separation while in prison, and she left for California. Not long after she returned, I went to Thailand. Then Michigan.”

“It’s crazy that I remember Rory but I don’t remember her going to California.”

“Well…” I used my finger to tip his chin up “…if you remembered her going to California, then you would remember me.”

“True. What did you do in Thailand?”

I missed you. Developed feelings for another man. Gave away my virginity. Found my calling in life. And missed you some more.

“Mission trip. Originally, it was just going to be for six months. But the friend who convinced me to go, he wanted to stay for another six months. Best decision ever. I assisted a midwife. And that’s where I fell in love with midwifery. So I went back to Texas after Thailand, just long enough to have my grandparents help me get my tuition paid.”

“So you owe this guy, your friend, a big thanks for convincing you to go to Thailand.”

“I suppose I do.”

And Fisher. I owed him a thank-you for helping me see just how terrible the timing was for us.

“That’s pretty cool,” Fisher said. “I like when fate does its thing. Had a friend of my dad’s not given me a summer job with his construction company, I probably would have gone to college just to play sports. Who knows how that would have ended?” Fisher shrugged a shoulder. “Angie said she wanted me to play baseball in college. She thinks I would have gone pro.” He chuckled. “Apparently, I’ve known her since we were six. Our moms had our wedding planned before we left elementary school.”

“So … you remember that you love construction, but you don’t remember owning a construction company? And you remember your family, but you don’t remember the girl you met when you were six? The woman who you proposed … well, said ‘yes’ to?”

“Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign?” I tilted my head.

“Maybe it’s a sign we need more time.”

“Oof … I hope you haven’t said that to her.” I turned off the trimmer, removed the guard, and blew on the blades before returning the guard to its place and setting it on the counter.

Fisher ran his hand over his closely trimmed beard. “What if I don’t remember her? What if I don’t …” He rubbed his lips together, his gaze averted to the floor.

“What if you don’t what?” I took the towel from his lap and shook the whiskers into the trash.

“What if I don’t fall in love with her again?”

I coughed a laugh. “Um … you had sex with her last night.” I couldn’t look at him. I wasn’t eighteen, but I also wasn’t immune to the bathroom we were in or talking about sex with the naked fisherman.

He jerked his head back as if my statement made no sense. “Sex isn’t love.”