by Alicia Rae
As we worked side by side, it dawned on me how we had settled into such a normal daily life and how much I truly liked having him around. I had never lived with a man before, but sharing a home with Damon felt so natural.
He suddenly bumped his hip into mine. “So…” he drawled.
I could tell he was up to no good.
“Tell me more about this surprise.”
“Not a chance.” I laughed wholeheartedly, nudging him back. “You will have to wait and find out.”
After making two laps around the gas station in search of a small white fridge that held the bait, I finally found it. I carefully retrieved the container from inside, mindful not to touch my clothing, and carried it up to the counter.
As I paid the cashier for my gas and the bait, I pondered over how to hide the blue container of worms from Damon, not wanting him to snoop into the white plastic shopping bag. My only option was to stash them in my purse.
I scrunched up my forehead at the idea as I stared back at the salesclerk. “May I please have a few more bags?” I asked, feeling like a complete dork.
The look on the guy’s face confirmed he agreed with my assessment of myself.
“Uh…sure,” he murmured hesitantly, handing me three more plastic bags.
“Thanks,” I responded, taking the items.
I inwardly concluded that three would have to make do. Hopefully, the worms would not leave behind a lingering smell in my purse.
I wrapped up the blue container with the extra bags as tightly as I could and tucked it into my bag. Then, I glanced up to see that no other people were watching me, except for the salesclerk, who I was pretty sure was still amused by me.
I walked out the double door of the building, back to my car, and hopped into the driver seat.
Damon looked over at me. “Did you get lost in there or what?” he asked jokingly.
“I just had to pee and pay for my gas.” I didn’t want to give up my plans yet, so I slightly exaggerated. Well, I had used the restroom when I first walked in, just not the whole time, so it was only a half fib.
“That’s classy of you to say,” he responded humorously.
“Aw, come on,” I crooned. “We all do it. No reason to be shy about it.”
“Yeah,” he hesitated. “But normal people don’t talk about it so openly.”
I rolled my eyes and gave him the look. “Says the guy who doesn’t shut the bathroom door all the way when he pees.”
Damon threw his head back and laughed hard before peering at me. “That is very unladylike of you to point out.”
“I have been told more than once that my filter between my brain and mouth is missing.” I snickered, relishing in our morning banter. “Sorry for the late warning.”
Damon leaned over the center console in my Firebird, and he lifted his hand to gently grasp my nape, drawing me near. “I love your mouth and what comes out of it,” he replied prior to kissing me thoroughly.
I yearned to either jump over the seat and into his lap or turn the car around and take him back home, so we could continue what he had started.
He pulled back and dragged his lips across mine sluggishly. “Definitely looking forward to naked Sunday right about now.” He grinned.
“Me, too,” I sighed dreamily.
He abruptly returned to his seat and left me craving more of him and his delicious kisses. “You said stinky and slimy first.” He tapped my right leg with his hand. “So, step on it, babe.”
“Tease,” I muttered.
He tilted his head in my direction. “All your doing, sweetheart.”
I could not argue with him there, so I started my car and drove out of the parking lot. As I headed toward the lake, I hoped the spot I had chosen was good for fishing. I briefly looked up at the skyline through the windshield to see the early morning overcast was fading, and the sun was beginning to peek out.
After a while, I pulled into the parking lot of the designated beach area, turned off the ignition, and grabbed my purse before exiting the car. Damon and I met at the rear of the vehicle.
“A day at the beach?” he asked with interest, stepping closer to me.
I slipped my key into the lock of the trunk and lifted it, revealing two fishing poles, a tackle box, and a maroon plaid blanket. “Not quite, but I hope you still enjoy fishing,” I replied, watching his eyes roam back and forth across the items in front of us.
A huge boyish grin spread across his features, and I silently thanked Jason for the suggestion.
Damon stared at me as he hooked his fingers in the belt loops of my pants and tugged me near. “Of course. Every guy likes to fish,” he answered in a delightful tone.
“Well, you and Jason are definitely brothers then because that is exactly what he said,” I responded with wit.
“Yes, we are,” he agreed, his voice full of affection for his brother. Damon lifted one hand to brush my hair off my face while smiling down at me. “But I’m curious to know what made you ask Jason about fishing.”
Gathering my words, I shrugged shyly and twined my arms around his waist. “You have been so great to me this week, Damon—actually, ever since that first night we had dinner together,” I corrected. “I wanted to do something special for you.” I gently set one hand on his chest. “You are so good to me and never ask for anything in return, so this is your day.”
Damon lowered his head against mine. “All I need is you, Gail. That’s all.” He kissed my forehead while embracing me. “But thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied as we parted.
His eyes lit up as he grabbed everything we needed from the back of my car. “You ready to catch some fish?”
I slung my bag over my shoulder and shut my trunk. We started walking down the trail to the water.
“Uh…funny you should mention that,” I said, recalling yesterday evening. “See, during the chat with Abbey and Jason, Abbey made a good point and said the woman reads while the guy fishes.”
“Huh.” Damon chuckled as we reached the sand. “Seems like I missed quite the conversation then.”
“Yes, you did,” I agreed, keeping pace with his longer strides. “Abbey got Jason to agree to let her read while he fished…if she wore a bikini.”
Damon stopped in his tracks, forcing me to pause, too.
He rotated to face me. “You have a bikini on underneath that outfit?” he questioned, hope lacing his tone. His eyes roamed the length of me in my blue jeans and T-shirt.
“Uh, negative,” I countered.
“You are definitely in trouble for leaving that suggestion out.”
“It is fall and cool outside,” I retorted. “However, I’m more than willing to comply next summer.”
“I’m looking forward to next summer already.” He grinned, bending at the waist to briefly kiss me. “I’ll give you a little while to read, so I can set up our stuff.” He pinned me with his eyes. “And then, you’re all mine.”
“I can handle that,” I happily agreed.
As we reached the dock, I set down the blanket and my purse. Damon lowered on his haunches and dropped all the items he was carrying.
He opened the tackle box and dug around inside of it. “The only thing we are missing is fresh bait, but I’m sure there are lures in here somewhere.”
I reached into my purse and handed him the quadruple-wrapped bait. “I have the worms.”
He reached for the bags, opened all of them, and glanced between the contents and me. His lips twitched in hilarity. “You put a container of worms in your purse?” he questioned in awe.
“Not by choice.” I pointed to the white plastic. “Hence, all the extra plastic bags,” I replied dryly, stifling my humor. “And the only reason I put it in my ridiculously expensive bag is because you might be kind of cute.”
“I might be cute enough to go fishing with?” Damon smirked.
“You make the cut by about”—I raised my hand in front of us to gesture a quarter of an inch with m
y fingers—“this much.”
“Good to know.” He chuckled throatily. “Go get your reading fix before I change my mind,” he added with a playful sneer.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I responded, rising to my feet.
I quickly laid out my blanket a few feet off to the left of him, retrieved my Kindle from my bag, and eagerly dived into Kristen Proby’s Loving Cara. After a busy week of work and family, I was excited to finally have the spare time to begin reading it.
I peeked over my e-reader in between pages to see Damon setting up his fishing pole, attaching what appeared to be a weight, bobber, hook, and eventually a worm. Then, he went back to the tackle box to begin working on assembling the second line. I was amazed at how many things he pulled out of that small box.
After finishing the first chapter, I was completely torn between continuing to read and joining my man because I was entirely drawn into this amazing novel already. But as I watched Damon, I wanted to spend this time with him.
I carefully slipped my Kindle into my purse and murmured, “I’ll come back for you later, my precious,” before standing to my feet and heading toward Damon.
He reached over his right shoulder with the pole, making his arm flex in an eye-catching movement, and then he whipped it forward to cast the line.
“Hey you.” I came up behind him, wrapping my arms around to cop a feel of his taut stomach.
“There’s my girl,” he replied as he swapped his pole into his opposing hand and repositioned me until I was at his side. “Have you ever fished before?”
“No,” I admitted sheepishly. “I’ve only watched my dad as a kid from afar.”
“He never asked you to try?”
“Oh, he did,” I clarified. “However, he quickly gave up on the idea when he realized he was raising two daughters.”
“We’ll have to rectify that minor detail,” he teased and repositioned his stance so that I was in front of him. “Here.” He offered me the pole and set his own hands on top of mine. “Reel it in slowly, and I’ll show you how to cast.”
“Okay.” I smiled, open to learning.
When the bobber and the hook with the worm were dangling in front of us, Damon teased, “So, the first and most important rule is not to let go of the pole when casting.” He kissed my cheek.
“I’m pretty sure I knew that part,” I scoffed jokingly.
“That’s good.” He snickered and carefully extended our arms backward. “The second one is don’t hook yourself or anyone else or get the fishing wire tangled in a tree,” he added.
“Got it.” I laughed, moving in sync with him.
“Okay, now, as we get ready to cast it forward, press this knob.” He lightly maneuvered my finger over the button. “Hold it down until we cast forward. Then, you will let go of the knob, which releases the hook and bobber like a slingshot, going where you might or might not want it to go.” He was deliberately hinting at the nearby tree. He slowly pulled the pole back and forward again while indicating when to let go.
As I processed that information, Damon enthusiastically asked, “Ready?”
“Yep!”
“Go!” he exclaimed.
A soft squeal escaped my mouth as I threw my arm forward, following his directions. I watched as the line barreled onward and landed in the water with a small splash.
“Good job,” Damon said before kissing my temple. “And now, we wait.”
He gestured for me to join him as he lowered to sit down with his long legs hanging off the dock, and I sat in between them.
“Did you fish often as a kid?” I asked, eager to know more about him.
“My brothers and I used to go fishing all the time as kids.”
I tilted my head over at him. “Who walked away with the most catches of the day?” I questioned with a smile, enjoying this sunny day with him.
“I did.” He laughed. “But Jason always caught the biggest fish.”
“That seems like a fair trade-off,” I replied, checking my bobber.
The red-and-white bobber began to move, and then moments later, it dipped under the surface of the water.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. “I got one!”
Damon rose and looped his arms around me. Slowly, he started showing me how to hook and reel in the fish. I steadily turned the handle and felt the tension of the fish tugging against me. As it neared, I squatted down and pulled the dark-colored fish out of the water while raising the pole high above my head.
“Now, you just gotta grab him by the mouth, so you can get the hook out,” Damon instructed, kneeling beside me.
I pivoted on my heels to gape at him. “I’m not touching that slimy thing!” I squeaked.
“Aw, come on, you chicken!” Damon drawled with a grin, his voice laced with dare. “You can’t say you’re a fisherman until you’ve handled one!”
I had never been one to back down from a challenge. “I am not!” I bent forward, braced the pole in between my legs, and grabbed the fish’s mouth. Once it was in my hands, I bellowed out, “Gross! It’s slimy!” while removing the hook from the fish’s mouth.
“It is not!” he retorted good-naturedly.
With the fish free, it started flapping around wildly within my grasp. The feel of his tiny teeth brushed along my fingertips, causing me to jump and toss him back into the water. Well, I might have actually thrown him in. I just knew I didn’t want to hold it anymore.
“Aw!” Damon rolled with laughter. “You let him go!”
“What else was I supposed to do with the slippery thing?”
“Eat him,” he teased with a broad grin.
“Funny.” I scoffed. “No way!”
“You don’t eat fish?” he asked, grabbing his own fishing pole to cast the line into the water.
“Nope.” I scrunched up my nose at the thought. “I’m not for eating things that smell atrocious.”
“Well then, I have to take you out for some well-cooked salmon,” he said with confidence. “If it is cooked right, it has a great taste.”
“I might give it a shot,” I teased, open to trying it. I hadn’t had some since I was a kid.
“It’s a date.” He winked at me. “All right, fisherman,” he said, sitting back down on the dock. “You’re one catch up on me, and I can’t have you stealing my most-catches status, so you’re on your own from here on out.”
“I think I can handle it,” I replied with assurance at my newfound skill while sitting down next to Damon.
As we sat for the next few hours, enjoying one another’s company, we stole glances at each other and even shared countless kisses. I could not help but bask in our time together.
In such a short time, he had become my everything. He was the reason I would wake up early. Just a few minutes with him before we’d go our separate ways to work would make my whole day, and it was why I’d race home at night, wanting to hear his voice and laughter as he held me on the couch before bed.
I pondered back to when Abbey had told me I must really like him.
No, I did not like Damon.
I loved him.
The very thought left me breathless, and I had no idea what to do. Telling Damon was out of the question. Every time I’d ever spoken to a man about getting serious in the past, he would run for the door without a good-bye, and I was not ready to give up my precious time with Damon yet. Pain pierced my heart, excruciatingly so, at the thought. I didn’t want to give up Damon—ever.
To top it off, I had no clue how to express my feelings to him or how he would react. Sure, I knew he cared deeply for me. Nevertheless, I was smart enough to know there was a difference between caring for someone and being in love.
What if I handed him my heart and something else kept us apart?
Damon was still uncertain if Lake Tahoe was a permanent move in his life. But it was mine. With my parents and Caroline here, I could not wrap my mind around the possibility of leaving them. My family would be heartbroken.
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I pushed away the thought. Damon and I were not even at that bridge, so there was no reason to worry over how to cross it when it might never come up.
I just needed more time to process my feelings. All the while, Damon and I would each need the time to grow, so I handed my cards over to fate, and I went back to embracing the present moment with him.
Damon had caught nine fish throughout the morning, and I was feeling quite proud of my three.
It was nearly lunchtime, so I twisted to face him. “Do you want to take a lunch break?” I motioned north of us. “There are a bunch of places to eat about half a mile up the beach, if you’d like to walk.”
“Food sounds excellent,” he replied.
We stood, gathered our belongings, and carried them to my car. After locking them up in the trunk, Damon twined his hands with mine, and I began to lead the way.
“Do you come to the beach often?” he inquired as we navigated the path between the water and the pine trees.
“Caroline and I have always shared a love for the water, so yes, whenever I can carve out some free time, I like to walk along the beach,” I answered, gazing between him and my steps.
“I’m glad to see your sister is recovering so well,” he said in a kind voice.
“Me, too,” I replied, recalling all the updates Mom had given me throughout the week. “Mom told me this morning that Caroline should be coming home on Monday.”
“That is great news.” Damon smiled. “I’m relieved to see her memory returning like the doctor expected.”
“Yes,” I agreed wholeheartedly. “It’s amazing to see how our brains can heal from such a trauma.”
“I wanted to ask you this before, but I didn’t feel like it was the right time with everything going on.” He gently squeezed my hand. “Does Caroline have a history of seizures?”
“Yes,” I answered, remembering all the frightening ones my sister had when she was younger. “Caroline’s are called epileptic seizures. She hasn’t had one in almost a year,” I explained. “The doctors said most of hers have always been very mild. Nevertheless, it’s still terrifying—”
“Extremely,” Damon said in agreement.