Catching Mr. Right--A Clean Romance

by Carol Ross

  Movement caught her eye, and she looked up to find Seth approaching. Alone. Her stomach took a nervous plunge. This would be their first private conversation since they’d spoken the night before and she’d set him straight. Possibly with a bit more force than had been necessary.

  Setting aside her wariness, she had to admit he was a very nice-looking guy. Well-muscled with broad shoulders, he was bigger than he appeared at first glance. It was the way he moved, she decided, watching him navigate across the dock’s planking. Unlike the lumbering gait displayed by most big guys she knew, he was light on his feet, graceful, even. Athletic.

  “Hey, there,” he said, stopping when he got close. The corners of his mouth were curling up like he was trying not to smile, making Vic wonder if he’d somehow heard her thoughts. Just the idea of that sent a warm flush creeping up her neck. “Need some help?” he asked looking directly at the open tackle box.

  “Not really. Just familiarizing myself with our options for this afternoon,” she explained. “How was your lunch?”

  “Amazing. Do you guys eat like that all the time?”

  “Pretty much. There’s usually less variety at a meal, but yeah.”

  “Scarlett said she made the gumbo.”

  “That’s right. Mama taught her.”

  “How old is she again?”

  “Eleven.”

  “That is impressive. Can you all cook like that, too?”

  “Not quite as well as Mama. She really should be working as a chef or a baker somewhere. I’ll have to show you a photo of the bass cake she made for Scarlett’s birthday. Seriously, it was so lifelike, it was almost weird to eat it.”

  Seth chuckled. “I would like to see that.”

  “Scarlett loved it. But to answer your question, I can put a decent meal together. Mémé is an excellent cook, too. She taught Mama, or at least initially. And they insisted I learn.”

  “Did you not want to learn?”

  “Mmm.” Tipping her head, she took a few seconds to think about the question. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. It’s more that I didn’t have a choice, or it certainly didn’t occur to me that I had a choice—if that makes sense? It’s that way with a lot of things around here.”

  “Everyone has to pull their weight type of thing?” he asked, and Vic felt unsettled by the intensity of his gaze.

  “There’s that, for sure. Mémé’s adamant that we all contribute equally, and that means knowing how to do every job around here and performing that job up to her standards. Which are high. But it’s more that my family is all about passing on knowledge and skills. Another of Mémé’s maxims is ‘Learn by doing.’ Most things I’ve been doing so long, I can’t even remember learning them exactly. And I was made to feel like it was an honor to learn them.” Victoria paused to smile. “The woman has an endless amount of patience, too. Something I only realized after I had Scarlett and started teaching her the same way.”

  “I see. So, in addition to running this resort and cooking and gardening, your grandmother keeps bees, brews beer, sews, hunts, fishes, makes her own lures for fishing and, Scarlett told me, builds things out of wood, including canoes, in her spare time?”

  “That is all true,” Victoria answered, somehow not surprised that he’d learned so much about her family in such a short time. Honestly, what surprised her more was his seemingly genuine interest in what Austin condescendingly referred to as their “simple existence.”

  “What else?”

  “What else can she do?” At his nod, she said, “Uh, let’s see... Pretty much anything she sets her mind to. She can build or fix just about anything. She and my granddaddy built the house we live in and the dining room table. She plays the piano, she’s fluent in French and she’s the best at horseshoes I’ve ever seen.”

  “Wow. That’s...phenomenal. I’m suddenly wondering what I’ve been doing with all of my time. Is she single?”

  Vic laughed. “Mémé does not tolerate much in the way of sitting still. I’m sure you can imagine her opinion about kids and screen time. That’s why I’m so terrible about my phone. I didn’t have one until I was sixteen. I wasn’t allowed on social media, and now I don’t want to be there. We have one small television in the family room that we got when Scarlett was six years old. I kid you not, I have never seen her watch it. Although, truthfully, none of us watch it much.”

  “So, does that mean you can do all of that stuff, too?”

  Still smiling, she said, “To varying degrees. All except for the piano and the canoe making. Woodworking is Mémé’s hobby, although Scarlett has taken an interest.”

  “Did you ever play the piano?”

  “Nope. I took violin lessons for about ten years. I wasn’t bad, but practicing always felt like a chore. She let me quit when I joined the church choir.”

  “You sing?” His face erupted with a wide smile, an inordinately cheerful-looking one, in her opinion.

  “Uh, yeah. Do you sing, too?”

  “No. Not a bit.” Head shaking, exuberant grin still intact, he kept his eyes pinned on hers. What was he thinking? Something just occurred to him, so he asked, “Were you homeschooled?”

  “I was through the eighth grade.”

  “And Scarlett?”

  “Yes. She’ll have the option of going to high school in town like I did, even though she says she doesn’t want to. Although, that might change as she transitions into those dreaded teenaged years.”

  Victoria had wanted to go to school, but if Scarlett didn’t, that was fine. Especially if she continued to participate in sports and extracurricular activities where she had a nice network of friends and plenty of socializing. And either way, Scarlett had Quinn.

  “That’s cool. No wonder you’re all so intelligent and accomplished. You have a very interesting life here.”

  “Thank you. It’s nice that you see it that way.” And it was. Vic appreciated the fact that he didn’t judge her for being homeschooled and isolated. She’d encountered a lot of reactions on that front over the years.

  “That’s because that’s the way it is. Lots of people homeschool where I’m from.”

  “It’s funny because on paper Mémé has an eighth-grade education, and yet she’s the wisest, most intelligent, skilled and capable person I’ve ever met. People in this town seek her advice and counsel. My respect for her only grows the older I get, and the more I learn about the world. There are a lot of paths you can take to acquire an education.”

  Marissa and Gerard came into view, heading toward the dock.

  Seth nodded. “I get that. Some of the smartest people I know have the least amount of formal education.”

  “Oh yeah?” That interested her, too. She enjoyed researching successful, self-educated people. “Like who?”

  “Well, me for example. My grades were lousy in high school. I spent too much time goofing off and getting into trouble, the harmless kind. Or I was skipping to go fishing. I knew I wanted to fish so, for me, college didn’t feel like the best use of my time. And, when it comes to fishing, I’ve met very few people I couldn’t out-clever, or at least hold my own against.”

  Taken aback by the knowledge that he hadn’t gone to college either, Vic was left speechless. She wondered why she had assumed that he had? Momentarily distracted, the rest of his statement was slow to sink in...

  With Marissa and Gerard rapidly closing in on them, she hastened to ask, “What is that supposed to mean?” Even though she knew, didn’t she?

  Mouth twitching, eyebrows drifting up, he gave her an easy shrug. Taken together, the casual gesture had the opposite effect. No doubt, exactly what he intended. A rush of nerves flooded through her and sent her pulse racing. Victorian knew a challenge when she heard one.

  * * *

  THEY’D BEEN BACK on the water for nearly two hours with very little action and only one small bass. A
nd as Victoria grew increasingly edgy, Seth came to life. Joking around with Marissa and Gerard like they were best pals. Telling stories. All laid-back and nonchalant like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  But Victoria could feel it, the intensity radiating from him. The confidence was back, along with something else she couldn’t identify. It was like a spark had been lit inside of him. So much for that lack of competitive fire. He was up to something.

  Pressure building, she steered the boat into a shaded cove ringed by tall cypress trees.

  “There are some nice flat-bottomed areas for nesting here,” she explained as she attached yet another lure to the end of her line. “Like my grandmother says, ‘There’s no such thing as a fish that won’t bite, just a fisherman who doesn’t know what to feed it.’ My mama, the master chef, would say it’s all about the presentation. But either way, it’s merely a matter of figuring out the right lure for the conditions.”

  “I agree,” Seth piped up. “In fact... Now, you all know I’m no expert on largemouth bass or Louisiana water. But what I am is pretty good at is scoping out new territory and conditions. When I first arrive in an unfamiliar locale, I like to take some time to absorb it all and then figure out my plan of attack.”

  “That’s an effective tactic, for sure,” Gerard said. “I like to do that, too. I’ll even talk to the locals. See if I can get any information out of them. Or even better, watch them fish if I can.”

  “Exactly, Gerard. Me too,” Seth said, removing a small object from his shirt pocket. It looked like a wad of paper. “I did both when I got here yesterday afternoon.” He squinted skyward. “In fact, time of day and conditions were about the same as they are today. Water’s maybe a little clearer now. Anyway, I got to talking with a local angler and learned that it’s been a bit cloudy from all that rain last week.” Unhurriedly, deliberately he began to unwrap the scrunched paper.

  Gerard and Marissa looked on with interest. But Victoria already knew it was a lure. The only questions she had were, what was it, and where had he gotten it? What local angler could he have spoken with? Likely, he was making it all up. But she had to give him credit; it made for a good show.

  “Now, I should probably qualify this by telling you it isn’t a Romeo Reels product.”

  “That’s okay!” Marissa said. “Whatever works!”

  “Definitely,” Gerard agreed. “Not to mention, that’s how we come up with new products.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” Keeping his back to Victoria as he attached lure to line, he added, “Because I also watched this same local angler land a dandy of a fish with this little guy.”

  What a load of nonsense. Every local angler she knew had been out on the lake for the derby. Well, except for...

  “She was generous enough to loan it to me, and I’m curious what might happen if I give it a try.”

  She. Scarlett!

  Seth was already pitching the lure between two stumps. Beautiful placement. He reeled it in. Tried again. Victoria found herself holding a breath...

  Bam!

  “Woohoo!” Seth yelped. “Fish on! Feels like a nice one.”

  Victoria could tell it was. Even without the scale that Marissa was scrambling to retrieve, she knew it would be the biggest catch of the day.

  “Six pounds, twelve ounces,” Marissa announced proudly, confirming Vic’s assumption.

  “Way to go, Seth!” Victoria cheered with feigned enthusiasm that she hoped was convincingly portrayed.

  “Well done, my friend.” Gerard clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s exactly the type of resourcefulness we like to see. That is what makes a successful angler right there.”

  “Indeed,” Vic agreed, still wrapping her brain around the fact that she’d been unintentionally sabotaged by her own daughter. A testament, she knew, to how far Seth had already ingratiated himself into her family. Scarlett guarded her fishing secrets like the priceless treasure trove they were. Aside from herself, she’d known Scarlett to share them only with Quinn. And then only under certain conditions.

  “Thank you, guys,” Seth replied humbly. “I’m thrilled it paid off.” His gaze slid to Victoria, where it lingered long enough for her to see both amusement and triumph. Holding up the spinnerbait for her to see confirmed that it was indeed Scarlett’s, not that she’d had any doubt. In the other hand, he hefted the fish and a big cheesy grin so Marissa could snap some photos.

  Then, locking eyes with Victoria again, he said, “It really pays off when you make friends with the locals, doesn’t it?”

  Victoria felt her confidence slipping away. Clever didn’t even begin to describe this little performance. But beyond that, she could see a much bigger problem; Seth acted, and sounded, exactly like a professional spokesperson should.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WITH THEIR SECOND day of fishing complete, Seth was on the way back to his cabin after fetching some ice from the cooler outside the office. Mémé had generously given him his sweet tea tutorial and he’d successfully produced his first batch. According to both her and Corinne, he needed a tall glass of ice in order to enjoy it properly. Who was he to argue with the experts?

  Passing by the house, he spotted Scarlett and Quinn on the porch. They were chatting quietly, Scarlett perched on the table’s attached bench, head bowed over her hands. Quinn lounged on the top of the table, feet on the bench, elbows resting on his thighs.

  “Howdy, Seth” Quinn called with a friendly wave.

  Scarlett looked up and smiled. “Hey, Mr. James.”

  He veered toward them, and as he got close, he could see that Scarlett was busy tying a lure of some sort.

  “Hey, what are you up to there?” he asked, peering closely at her project. “That’s not for bass, is it?”

  “Sac-a-lait,” Quinn said.

  “Umm...” Seth reached up and scratched his cheek with one thumb. “Sack of what?”

  Quinn and Scarlett busted out laughing, exchanging amused glances. Quinn sighed and shook his head slowly with exaggerated pity at Seth’s ignorance. “Y’all don’t have sac-a-lait in Alaska either, do you?”

  “Not that I’m aware of...”

  “Sac-a-lait is a fish,” Scarlett informed him. “Also known as white perch. Or crappie. They are tons of fun to catch, and you’ve never tasted a fish fry more delicious. This,” she declared, holding up the finished project, “is a jig of my own design.”

  “Interesting. Perch I’ve heard of. You guys going fishing?”

  “Hoping to,” Scarlett said, frowning just a little, and Seth knew her well enough by now to know she was fighting not to elaborate.

  Quinn explained, “They’re spawning right now over in the Tchelaya Swamp. Ms. Thibodeaux won’t let Scarlett go without an adult.”

  “We never miss the spawn, but she’s been real busy,” Scarlett added, and Seth could see she was putting on a brave face. “She said maybe tomorrow.”

  “Ah.” Seth nodded, thinking about how true that busy part was.

  This morning, he, Victoria, Marissa and Gerard had risen before dawn and driven south to the gulf where Romeo Reels had secured a charter boat for their exclusive use. They’d traveled offshore where they’d spent a few hours fishing for yellowfin tuna and wahoo. The trip had been absorbing, successful and, much to his relief, genuinely fun.

  He knew this was partially because he’d felt far less of a disadvantage. Redeeming himself yesterday had certainly helped. And with his background as a commercial fisherman and charter boat captain in Alaska, he had more overall experience in deep water than Victoria. As a result, he’d felt more like himself. Relaxed yet focused. And confident.

  Victoria had been more chill, too. Less wired, he imagined, from the responsibility of being the one in the know. And she wasn’t unfamiliar with the gulf, having fished there a fair amount growing up. By silent mutual con
sent, they’d both seemed intent on enjoying the experience. Victoria landed the largest yellowfin of the day, but Seth had caught the most fish. (Just because Marissa and Gerard weren’t keeping track of their catches didn’t mean he couldn’t.)

  All in all, Seth wanted to believe the day had ended in a draw as far as Romeo Reels’ mysterious and subjective standards went. But truthfully, he had no idea. What he did know was that he was absolutely wiped out. He couldn’t imagine how Victoria felt.

  In addition to the long hours of fishing they’d put in, she’d kept up with her work around the resort. Even this afternoon, immediately after Marissa and Gerard had departed for the airport, she’d gone straight into the office. He’d just seen her there when he’d passed by, seated inside at a desk studying a monitor screen. She touted her grandma and mom’s accomplishments, but she had plenty of her own.

  “How far away?” he asked the kids.

  “Maybe twenty minutes.”

  “By boat?”

  “Yep. We go through a channel out by the island. Tchelaya is just a swampy part of Lake Belle Rose.”

  “Sold! Let’s go.”

  Quinn’s face erupted with a huge grin while Scarlett went wide-eyed and hopeful. “What? Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Pretty sure I qualify as an adult, and I’d love to...sack some lays. As long as it’s okay with your mom. I’ll go put this ice in my cabin and meet you guys at the dock. I’m leaving tomorrow, so I was planning to head out on the lake anyway.”

  “Let’s do it!” Quinn slapped his palms on his kneecaps.

  An exuberant Scarlett was already on her feet and moving. “I’ll go ask Mama.”

  * * *

  VICTORIA CLICKED THE mouse to place an order for the store. The derby had nearly cleaned them out of chips, soda and ice cream bars. Sitting back in her chair she let out a sigh, finally allowing the relief to settle into her.

  Marissa and Gerard had departed. Seth was leaving the next day. Vic was thankful to have these two days complete. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed them. She had, and much more than she’d expected. Especially today. Marissa and Gerard were easygoing and fun. Funny how she now thought of them as Marissa and Gerard instead of as the “Romeo reps.” Like they were friends.