The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(46)

As soon as I felt confident they were out of earshot, I kicked Fisher’s leg.

“What was that for?” Fisher narrowed his eyes at me.

“You think I should be with a different guy every night?”

“I think I hate asking you to wait for me to get my life straightened out.”

That wasn’t the answer I wanted. “I’m going to catch up with them.” With a flashlight in hand, I stomped my way into the woods.

“Reese …”

I didn’t respond.

By the time we returned to the campsite, Fisher had extinguished the fire and returned the chairs to the back of his truck.

“Fisher? You ready for bed?” Rory called.

“Yup,” he called from inside his tent. “I went potty and brushed my teeth. Thanks, Mom.”

Rory laughed. “Okay. Night.”

I started to unzip the door to my tent.

“Night, sweetie. See you in the morning, birthday girl.” Rory hugged me and so did Rose.

“Night.” Turning on the lantern light for my tent, I paused on my knees just before zipping my door shut. My sleeping bag was laid out along with an extra blanket and my pillow at the top with a note on it.

I’ll ask anyway … wait for me.

Taking the note, I hugged it to my chest, then I changed into my thermal leggings and matching long-sleeved shirt before crawling into my sleeping bag and shutting off the light.

It took me forever to get to sleep, probably because Rory and Rose were up so late playing mancala. Then a little after two in the morning, I woke from the cold, tossing and turning, unable to get warm. After letting my teeth chatter for nearly another half hour, I wrapped the blanket around me, shoved my feet into my shoes, and tiptoed to Fisher’s tent.

He didn’t move when I unzipped his tent nor when I zipped it shut. Peaceful Fisher nestled into his sleeping bag, curled onto his side … happy birthday to me, I thought.

Until …

The most jarring sound blared out.

I nearly wet my pants.

Fisher shot up. “What are you doing?”

“Oh my god … Fisher?” Rory called.

I dove out of his tent, but not before Rory and Rose were out of their tent with flashlights shining on both Fisher’s tent (and me) and his truck with its alarm blaring.

It stopped when Fisher stepped out of his tent, holding the key fob.

“Jesus, was it a bear?” Rose asked.

“Reese, what on earth were you doing in Fisher’s tent?” Rory didn’t seem to care about the possibility of a bear setting off Fisher’s truck alarm.

I tightened my grip on my blanket, still shivering, even more so since my body was in shock from the alarm sounding. “I … I was f-freezing. And …” I needed to think fast, but it was hard because I was so cold and feeling terrible for waking everyone, and it was technically my birthday, and yeah … I started to cry.

“She just poked her head into my tent to ask for my truck keys because she was cold and wanted to sleep in the truck, but when she crawled next to me to wake me up, she hit the key fob and set off the alarm.” Fisher for the save.

Rory eyed me, shining the stupid flashlight in my eyes. “Sweetie, your lips are blue. Oh my goodness.”

I sniffled and quickly wiped my eyes, feeling so stupid and terrible for everything as Rory hugged me.

“Get in our tent. We’ll keep you warm.”

Shooting Fisher a quick glance, I followed them to their tent.





Chapter Twenty





My attempts to get warm next to Fisher failed miserably. However, his attempt to come up with a good excuse for me being in his tent was a total success. Rory didn’t think twice about it.

Then I, the lucky birthday girl, got to wake up nestled between Rose and Rory instead of nestled into the naked chest of Fisher. Twenty-four was already an unforgettable birthday.

“I have to pee,” I whispered, peeling myself out of the middle.

“Okay. Happy birthday, sweetie,” Rory mumbled. It was still early. “I’ll go with you.” She sounded half awake at best.

“I’m good. Really.”

“Sure?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll get up and start breakfast soon.”

“No rush. I’m not hungry yet.” I escaped their tent with Rose still sleeping and Rory likely on the verge of going back to sleep.

After I got dressed, Fisher greeted me at the opening of my tent with a thermos of coffee, handing it to me.

“Th—” I started to thank him, but he held a finger to his lips.

Then he smiled while ducking his head to my ear. “Happy birthday.”

With my free hand, I gripped his fleece jacket. He dragged his mouth along my cheek to my lips and kissed me, using his hands to hold my face.

I wasn’t sure if the absence of Angie was my gift or the sex in his tent the previous night … or the coffee? The kiss? Or was it the huge grin he gave me after the kiss as he nodded to the right and took my hand?

Fisher was the gift.

He took the thermos from my hand and set it by the tent before taking my hand again and pulling me toward the woods.

“Where are we going? I have to pee,” I whispered.

“On a hike. We’ll find you a rock to pee on.”