Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(50)

I found the small cooler I’d set down in the large tote bag to keep it out of the sun. Then realized I’d forgotten one important thing, after all of that planning.

“But you know what? I don’t think I brought any forks. Shit.”

Our hands were dirty from fishing. The sandwiches wouldn’t be any trouble; they were wrapped in paper, but the pasta salad would be nearly impossible.

“Wait, I have toothpicks,” I suggested.

“We’ll make it work.”

So in the middle of the Chute, with a cooler for a table, we ate our sandwiches and used toothpicks to stab the creamy shells. Laughing and talking about the one that he claimed got away, just like a real fisherman.

It was the best lunch of my life.




The day grew hot on the water, and soon we were just looking for the shady spots, puttering around along the bank on the way back to the cabin.

“So you think you’re ready to clean all of these fish?” It was the worst part, but it had to be done. If you caught fish, and you wanted to eat them, there was no way around it. Guts and all.

I was used to it, and I’d found a way that was fast, but I still didn’t love that part.

“It has to be done, right? I’ll help, maybe it’ll go faster with two of us.”

Other than my dad, and on occasion Dean, I’d never had someone help me clean my catch. Never in a million years did I ever imagine I’d find, not just a sexy, well educated, funny man, but one who wanted to help me clean fish—that we’d caught together, no less.

If I wasn’t careful, I was going to get in way over my head with him. Honestly, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

After we tied the boat up and cleaned up our mess, we hauled the cooler and bags back to the cabin. Then we went back and pulled out the well, and, each carrying a side, we hauled it over to my fish cleaning station.

I uncoiled the hose I had under the shack and snuck it through the contraption I’d made to hold it. Quickly, I ran upstairs to get my fillet knives and said a prayer that this went just as smoothly as … well, everything had gone all day.

I showed him my trick to cutting the fillets and he quickly caught on. Maybe it was because he was a doctor, of sorts, and therefore had a great attention to detail, or maybe he was just a great learner, but after he did the first few, he was flying through them at about the same speed I was.

After about an hour of some really gross stuff, we were finished and glad for it.

“Thanks for helping. It sucks, but it’s worth it. They’ll taste good, I promise.”

I bagged up the last of the fish for the freezer, keeping some aside for us for dinner later that evening.

“It wasn’t that bad. I’ve been inside some really gross mouths. I have a strong stomach. It was pretty nasty though.”

I laughed at the face he was pulling. Even covered in sweat and fish guts, he was oh, so fine.

“So the cabin has a shower, but the hot water tank is kinda small.” I knew I needed a shower, but I wasn’t sure if he’d want to take one here or if he’d go home and clean up.

“That sounds like an invitation.”

God. Had it?

My insides dropped as he stepped closer, his voice taking that tone again. The one I didn’t yet know how to react to. The one that was making me doublethink everything I’d ever thought about relationships. The one that could easily talk me into a shower, cold water be damned.

We were both disgusting, hands only cleaned by the running water out of the hose.

I leaned against the makeshift sink under my cabin, and in front of me he stepped closer and closer.

Excited nerves controlled my words and I began to ramble, something I was sure he’d be sick of sooner than later. How was I supposed to be in a mature relationship? I had zero experience. I was no smoother than a thirteen-year-old. It wouldn’t take him long to get sick of trying to have an adult situation with someone so inexperienced in those ways.

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, if you want to share a shower, I’m game. I’d love to see you naked. Wait, did I just … ignore that part. I didn’t know if you brought out anything clean to wear or not. I figured we could clean up and maybe have another fire or something.”

If he was annoyed with my awkward rambling in those moments, it wasn’t showing. He was smiling and nodding, looking amused and full of life.

I was a jackass.

“I wish I’d brought a change, but I didn’t. How about you take a shower and I’ll run home, but there’s one thing that’s really been bothering me all day.”

Here it comes.

I’d been waiting for the shoe to drop and now was the time. I was too much of a tomboy. He was looking for someone more sophisticated. I was too crude, and he wanted someone who could hold a worldly conversation, or at least one that didn’t have anything to do with Wynne, or construction, or guts for that matter.

I was covered in fish slime.

I’d pulled my own boat in the water without waiting for him.

I’d been too bossy when we were fishing and I’d emasculated him.

Just like Sunny had told me I did to the kid who took me to prom. I’d picked him up because it was raining really hard and I had better tires. I didn’t want to wreck on our way to the dance. And I certainly didn’t want to change a tire in the only dress I’d ever owned that had a zip up the side.