The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(53)

“I’m going to crash. I’m over twenty-four hours with no sleep.”

“Then crash here.”

“It’s not a good idea.” I shoved my feet into my shoes and opened the door.

Fisher pressed his hand above my head to the door and shut it on me. “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”

I turned and shoved his chest.

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “You can shove me as much as you want, but it still doesn’t change what I want.”

I coughed a laugh. “What you want? What you want? What about what I—”

In a blink he was all over me.

Lips.

Tongue.

Hands.

A fisherman tornado.

My jacket … his hoodie … gone.

Three steps toward the hallway … shirts discarded.

Several more steps … the tie to my scrubs yanked undone while I made haste with the button and zipper to his jeans.

Several feet from the bedroom door, he pushed my back to the wall and kissed down my neck while shoving the straps of my bra down my arms, exposing my breasts.

“Fisher …” My fingers dove into his hair as he licked, sucked, and bit my nipples.

“Hello. Hello. Hello …”

Rory.

We froze, but there was no time to run or hide. No time to gather the trail of clothes from the door to our exact spot, which happened to be in plain sight of Rory and her unnaturally wide-eyed expression, hand cupped over her mouth.

I closed my eyes and cringed.

Fisher stood tall and buttoned and zipped his jeans before taking my shoulders and guiding me toward the bedroom and shutting me inside.

I fixed my bra and pressed my ear to the door, but it was hard to hear past my rapid breathing.

“Rory … ever heard of knocking?”

“What in GOD’S NAME is going on?”

I flinched. I couldn’t remember a time in my entire life when I heard my mom’s voice sound that angry.

“I love her.”

Dead. Fisher just slayed me. Lassoed my heart. And locked it up in his castle where it will take an army or an act of God to steal it from him.

“That is not an answer! That is my daughter. What the fuck are you doing with my daughter? She is ten years younger than you … and YOU ARE ENGAGED!”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds.

Then Fisher spoke. Calm. Controlled. Matter-of-fact.

“I love her.”

Tears burned my eyes, and I couldn’t take it any longer. I opened the door.

“Stay in the bedroom, Reese,” Fisher said with his back to me as Rory stared me down.

My hero. Protecting me. Loving me …

Tying my scrub pants, I slowly shuffled my feet down the hallway.

Rory’s jaw clenched, readying for whatever she might have thought I was about to say.

Plead my case?

Apologize?

Beg for forgiveness?

None of the above. I came out of the bedroom for one reason and one reason only. Turning to face Fisher, I blinked and the tears fell in heavy streams as I lifted onto my toes, pressed my palms to his face, and whispered, “I love you, my lost fisherman,” before kissing him.

Soft and slow.

No regard for Rory and her audible gasp.

When the kiss ended, he smiled and wiped my cheeks, looking at me so adoringly like Rory wasn’t there. Like we were in our bubble.

Then I turned and gathered my shirt and jacket, slipping them on as I made my way to the garage door where I shoved my feet back into my shoes. “Let’s go home, Mom.”

Mom.

I rarely, if ever, called her that, but that day I was leaving Fisher’s house with a full heart, going home to tell my mom everything.

It was one thing to hear someone tell you they love you. It was something entirely different, infinitely more special to hear them say the words to someone else like it was a three-word explanation for their existence.

I love her.

I was the luckiest her in the world.





Chapter Twenty-Three





I made it home a few minutes before Rory. She might have stayed to give Fisher a few more pieces of her mind.

“Hey, you look exhausted,” Rose said as she glanced up from her computer at the kitchen table. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Have you been crying?”

I nodded, setting my bag on the floor by the hallway. “Rory will be here any minute. I need to talk with her alone. Can you work at a cafe or the library for a while?”

Rose kept her concerned expression for a few seconds before nodding. “Is it time?”

Feeling another round of tears, I simply nodded. “Past time,” I managed to eke out.

“She knows.”

I nodded.

Rose stood and closed her computer. “Oh boy … it’s going to be a rough weekend.” She slipped her computer in her messenger bag and hiked it onto her shoulder just as Rory entered the house.

They made eye contact. And it was like Rose coffered her part with one look.

Rory slowly shook her head and grimaced. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Rose stopped before going out the back door. “Remember forbidden love?” She leaned over to kiss Rory’s cheek, but Rory pulled away.

She wouldn’t make eye contact with Rose, let alone acknowledge her comment. Rose nodded several times in acceptance as she bowed her head and headed out the door, gently closing it behind her.