The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(22)

“Angie packed a bag and has decided to stay with a friend. I think you visiting her fiancé will feel like a big deal.”

“Well, then we won’t tell her because they’re puzzles, not nude photos of me. I’m saving the nude photos for closer to Christmas.”

“Reese!” She playfully punched my arm as I giggled.





“How’d it go?” Rose asked the second Rory walked through the door.

I glanced up from my book, one of many books on birth Holly gave me to read.

“Dinner was great. Just me and my friend Fisher, enjoying pizza and beer. I talked. He listened. And he didn’t seem the least bit surprised by anything I said. I’m sure he’s been anticipating it since everyone else has talked with him already.” She set her purse on the counter and plopped onto the sofa next to Rose, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “He wasn’t angry. I think he’s trying to put himself in Angie’s shoes. I really do. But it doesn’t change his feelings. And right now, she’s a stranger. He thinks he enjoys spending time with her, but he also wants time to himself. I think she’s still too much of a stranger to him to have her there so much. He wants space and time. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s the groom in an arranged marriage. Fisher wants to fall in love with his wife before he marries her.” Rory shrugged. “And I can’t blame him. He’s having dinner—a date—with Angie this Friday night. So he’s trying. He wants to date her. I say … let them date. Let things happen naturally.”

I nodded slowly with a tight grin. Rose gave me a quick evil glare in return. When Rory glanced at her phone, head down, I stuck my tongue out at Rose. She had to bite her lips together to keep from laughing.

“Well, if Fisher’s home, I’m going to run these crossword puzzles over to him before I crash for the night. He asked for more. Isn’t that crazy?” I closed my book and stood.

“That is crazy. But I love that you have someone working on your puzzles.” Rory smiled.

“I do.” I smiled back, ignoring distrusting Rose. “See ya after a bit.”

Since it was getting late, I drove to Fisher’s house instead of walking there. I may have also added a little makeup in the car and a dab of perfume to make up for the rest of my casual attire, jeans and a hoodie. I wouldn’t have gotten away with anything dressier, not with Rose silently rooting for Team Angie.

“It’s late. I assumed you weren’t coming,” Fisher said when he opened the front door. I stole a silent moment to take him in—always sexy in jeans and a tee. That messy, dark blond hair. The beard I trimmed for him.

“Rose told me you were having dinner with my mom, so I waited until she got home. If it’s too late, I’ll just give you these…” I handed him the pile of puzzles “…and head home.”

“Too late for what? My roommate moved out. I’m officially free.”

I frowned, following him into the house. “I heard Angie’s staying with a friend while you date her. Big Friday night plans?”

He gestured to the sofa, and I sat in the middle while he took a seat in his recliner. “I don’t know. What should we do? Dinner and movie? Just dinner? Do I bring her back here? Or is that too weird since I asked her to move out?”

“You don’t remember the woman you’re engaged to. I think worrying about weird at this point is an afterthought. Do whatever feels right.”

Fisher ran his hands through his hair. “Ugh … I don’t know what feels right because I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about her.”

“It’s not about what you’re supposed to feel about her. Ask yourself how you honestly do feel about her. Let that be your starting point. I think you’ve already done that to some degree. I’m sure it wasn’t your family’s idea for her to move out and the two of you date. That was you. Go with that voice.”

“It’s hard to go with that voice because I do have this other voice in my head, the one that tries to put myself in her shoes. I’m sure I would be really messed-up if I loved someone and they didn’t remember me. I don’t think I could just walk away without a fight.”

Pulling my feet up and crisscrossing them, I formulated my response. He had no idea I was trying to see if I fit into his equation. “I couldn’t …” I smiled softly. “I couldn’t walk away without a fight.”

“You’re so young.” His lips turned into a pleasant smile. “How old are you?”

I chuckled. “What you mean is, how young am I? I’ll be twenty-four soon.”

“So you’re twenty-three.”

My eyes rolled upward. “Yes. I’m twenty-three.”

“And have you ever been in love?”

Oh, Fisher …

My mind immediately jumped back five years to the day on the playground.

“I’m trying so hard…” I whispered, my voice shaky in my chest and wobbly as the words fell from my lips “…trying so hard not to fall in love with you.”

A few breaths later, he whispered back, “I know.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about him. What happened?”

I laughed and cleared my throat, cleared the pain from the memories. My memories. Fisher didn’t have memories of us. “Bad timing. I was young. And I was trying to figure out some things in my life. He had things in his life figured out quite well. So …” I pulled in a shaky breath and shrugged. “It was just … bad timing.”