The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(49)

His eyes narrowed. “Keep your distance? It’s going to be hard for you to keep your distance with my dick inside of you at every possible chance.”

There’s my crude naked fisherman. I’ve missed you.

I started walking again, my face revisiting its eighteen-year-old version of itself—flushed cheeks and neck. “And when do you think your next possible chance might be?”

“Can’t say.” He took my hand again.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s your birthday. And birthdays are for surprises.”

“So you’re going to surprise me with your dick?” I giggled.

“You’ll never see it coming.”

“Well, I won’t if it’s inside of me.”

He laughed.

I laughed.

And we spent the next hour hiking the trail that circled back around to the campsite. A few yards before the clearing, he stopped and pushed me off the trail, my back hitting a tree trunk.

He kissed me with a hunger that I felt in my bones. And as quickly as he pulled me off the trail and attacked my mouth, he ended the kiss and returned without me.

He nodded toward the clearing up ahead. “Coming?”

I peeled my back off the tree and fixed my beanie and straightened my jacket. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Fisher tucked his hands innocently in the pockets of his jacket.

“See … told you they didn’t get eaten by a bear,” Rose said to Rory as we made it back to the tents.

Rory rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think that.”

“You said it.” Rose eyed Rory flipping pancakes on the grill.

“Well, I was just kidding … sort of. Why didn’t you wake us up to go with you?” Rory asked.

“I thought I’d take the kiddo for a walk while you two had a little alone time.” Fisher gave them a suggestive grin. “Since she crashed your night with the truck alarm, blue lips, and chattering teeth.”

Rory and Rose laughed, but then they shared a look that said they did take advantage of their alone time. Which … made me think of the time I saw them in the shower. Yeah, that image was eternally burned into my brain.

“Take the kiddo for a walk?” I scowled at Fisher. “You make me sound like a five-year-old … or a dog.”

“If the leash fits.” He grabbed a bottle of orange juice out of the cooler.

I nudged the back of his knee, making his leg bend unexpectedly, throwing him a little off balance as he shut the cooler.

“Watch it.” He gave me a narrowed-eyed expression.

“Watch what, old man?”

“Listen to you two … it’s just like old times. Fisher, you and Reese used to fight and banter all the time, just like two siblings,” Rory said, handing me a plate of pancakes.

I took a seat in one of the camping chairs, and Rose poured syrup onto my stack of pancakes, pressing her lips together for a second before murmuring, “Siblings my ass,” so only I could hear her.

I winked at her, one of those cocky Fisher-style winks.

“No mancala for you two tonight,” I said to my mom and Rose. “You’re too loud. Too competitive.”

“Sorry.” Rory cringed. “Did we keep you up?”

I held up my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “A wee bit.”

“Mancala? I love that game,” Fisher said. “We should play it tonight.”

“It’s only a two-person game,” Rory said, handing Fisher his plate of pancakes.

“Well, you two played it last night, so I’ll play it with the birthday girl tonight.” Fisher took a bite of his pancakes and grinned at me. “Do you want to play with me tonight, Reese?”

My chewing slowed. He said that. Yes, he sure did. Rory paid no attention to his comment. But Rose choked on a bite of her pancake.

“You okay, babe?” Rory asked her.

Rose patted her chest several times and nodded. “F-fine.”

After swallowing my bite, I smirked at Rose while answering Fisher. “That sounds fun. I’d love to play with you tonight.”

Rose’s face looked like a ripe red apple, and there was nothing she could do to stop us. And Fisher had no idea she knew. He thought our innuendos were solely between the two of us.

“I’m not going to go easy on you. I’m pretty competitive. I like to be on top at the end.”

Again, Rose coughed and Rory handed her a bottled water. “Drink. And chew your food better.” Rory shifted her attention to Fisher. “Don’t get too cocky and underestimate Reese. She has a competitive streak too. I can see her winning … being on top instead of you. So no pouting tomorrow.”

By that point, Rose had her head bowed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. I felt certain she was silently chanting, “Make them stop!”

But all that mattered to me was Fisher and I were going to play.





Chapter Twenty-One





Before I left Texas to reunite with Rory, I knew three things.

One: I wasn’t ever going to drink or do drugs.

Two: No sex before marriage.

Three: I would think about God first in all my decisions.

At twenty-four, I knew nothing.