by Jennie Marts
He needed to get a grip. And on the rod, not on her. Hell, he felt like an awkward teenager again, getting all nervous around the beautiful girl in his class. He was the expert here.
Tightening his grip on her hand, he began to move the rod gently back and forth. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” he muttered to her. “You’re overthinking it. The clock is just a reference to get your bearings. Just relax and let your body finds it’s rhythm.”
She took a deep breath and let her shoulders drop, settling back against him and letting his hands guide hers.
“Fluid motion is the key. Stay loose, and just let yourself fall into the back and forth of it. Don’t use your shoulders. All the action is in the movement of your wrist.”
He felt her tense, then heard the giggles burst out of her as she bent forward, busting up with laughter.
“I can’t help it. It’s too funny.” She turned to the side, still in the circle of his arms, and looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Who knew fishing was so sexy?”
His mouth went dry. It was bad enough that she was in his arms, her body pressed against his, then she had to go and say the word “sexy.” He glanced down, his gaze going to her lips, and he had to stifle a groan.
“Come on,” she teased. “You have to admit, it’s a little funny.”
It was a little funny. He hadn’t ever thought of the way some of his terminology sounded. Usually because he was working with a majority of men, and he’d never had his arms wrapped around one of them before.
He offered her a wry grin. “Okay. It’s a little funny.”
“Well, isn’t this just so cozy?” a female voice said from behind them.
Oh, shit, Sully thought as he dropped his arms from around Avery’s waist.
Chapter Four
Sully recognized the voice and groaned inwardly. He did not need this right now. He turned around and nodded at the pretty brunette woman wearing a white tank top and a matching short tennis skirt. “Hey, Leanne. What are you doing here?”
She held a small cooler in one hand and tried to ward off Sadie’s attention with the other, holding her arm out like a shield in front of her as the dog ran up and tried to get her attention. “I was just on my way to my tennis lessons, but I wanted to drop this off for you. I made you some lunch.”
He shook his head, trying not to sound annoyed. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Leanne was nice enough, and certainly pretty enough, and she’d made it clear that she was more than available. But he just wasn’t interested. It wasn’t that anything was wrong with her. She was in great shape, which he assumed was the result of all the exercise classes and sports lessons that she always mentioned. But she just wasn’t his type.
Not that he had a type. Or even knew what his type was. But he knew it wasn’t Leanne. She was almost too perfect, with her stylish clothes and her long brown hair immaculately styled. Her nails and makeup were always perfect, like she’d just stepped out of the salon.
She was a single mom of a little boy—first or second grader, Sully couldn’t ever remember which. He was a cute kid. And she was always organizing something or another for his school or his class or the church. She had all the attributes of being great dating material, but there were just a few things that didn’t mesh with him—that got under his skin.
Okay, things that were downright irritating.
Waving away his concerns, she handed him the cooler. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. It’s nothing really, just a little something I whipped up for lunch. I was trying out a new chicken salad recipe anyway. It’s got sliced grapes and crushed pecans in it. Plus, I knew you had that reporter coming today and you were nervous about it, so I thought it was the least I could do to help.”
“I wasn’t nervous exactly.” He tried not to look at Avery.
“No, of course not. It would take more than that to rattle you. You’re so solid and levelheaded. But I knew you weren’t excited for him to come, so I figured at least this way, you could give him a nice meal, and it would be one less thing to worry about.”
She stood too close to him, fluttering her hands around him and touching his arm and his chest as she talked.
He glanced up at Avery, who had an amused expression on her face.
Leanne smiled at her. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to interrupt your lesson. I’m Leanne.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder, almost as if she were a bird preening and showing off, staking her claim, before she held her hand out to Avery, her sharp eyes taking in all the details of the other woman.
He cleared his throat, embarrassed at the way she was acting like he belonged to her and not wanting to make the situation worse by admitting that Avery was the reporter. “This is Avery,” was all he said by way of introductions.
Avery must have picked up on his uneasiness, because she just smiled and shook Leanne’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Your chicken salad sounds delicious.”
“Oh, well thank you. Poor Sully here would never eat anything healthy if I didn’t drop over some meals a few times each week. He might not admit it, but he sometimes needs a woman around to take care of him.”
Actually he didn’t. He’d had a woman try to take care of him, if you called bossing him around all the time and telling him what to do taking care of him. He was done with that. Maybe that was the problem. Leanne was nice enough, but he saw just a little too much of his ex-wife in her. And he couldn’t help but wonder if she had an ulterior motive for being so interested in him. Although for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it would be. He wasn’t all that interesting, and thanks to the She-Devil, didn’t have much money, either.
“I appreciate it, but I’m doing good, actually,” he said.
“Well,” she corrected. “Not good, you’re doing well. And I wouldn’t go that far. Look at that rip in your shorts. I could patch that for you, if you wanted to come by later. It would just take me a minute. And I’ve got a roast chicken in the Crock-Pot; you could stay for dinner even.”
Why did his collar always seem to fit too tight when she was around him? He tugged at the neckband of his old T-shirt, looking over her shoulder to avoid seeing the hope in her eyes. That’s what he really didn’t like. That he felt like an asshole every time he turned her down. Yet she still tried again.
He fingered the rip in his shorts. He’d put it there weeks ago, snagging them on a bush as he was fishing. “That’s nice of you, but it’s okay. They’re old shorts anyway, and I’d probably just rip ’em again. Plus, we’ve got the Get Outside event tonight, so I’ll be going to that.” This was the second year his shop had sponsored a booth at the local event.
Her smile faltered, just the slightest, but her voice stayed bright. “Oh that’s right. Maybe another time then. I was planning to bring Connor down to the park for the event tonight anyway. So we’ll see you later.”
“Yep. Okay then.” He kicked at a dry spot in the grass, wishing she would just leave, but not knowing how to get her to.
Avery smiled, changing the subject as she asked Leanne, “Are you into fly-fishing as well, then?”
Leanne laughed, not a funny laugh, but more of a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me kind of laugh. “Oh, Lord no. I think the whole sport is disgusting, with the smelly fish and the bloody worms swinging from the end of a fishing pole. No thanks. I don’t even eat fish.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust then turned a flirty smile toward him. “But I do like men that fish.”
Yep. Just downright irritating. “We need to get back to our lesson,” Sully said, choosing not to respond to her last comment. “Thanks for the lunch. You really didn’t have to do this. I’ll leave the cooler here at the shop.”
“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I’ll drop by your place later this week to pick it up.” She gave a meaningful glance to Avery, as if making sure the other woman knew she was declaring her territory, then leaned forward and gave him an awkward hug. Awkward mainly because he didn’t hug her back, instea
d his arms stayed stiffly at his sides, declaring in his own small way that he did not, in fact, belong to her.
“Really, you don’t have to—” he tried to say.
But she cut him off. “It’s no trouble. I’ll see you soon.” She offered Avery a little wave then sashayed off, wiggling her pert little behind as she walked.
They watched her turn the corner and disappear around the side of the building. Avery turned to him and arched an eyebrow. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing. She’s the realtor who sold me my cabin. I don’t know why she brought me lunch.”
“Oh, yes you do. You’ve spent the last hour teaching me about fishing, you have to recognize that that woman is trying to get her hooks in you and reel you in.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe. Whatever,” he grumbled.
“So, what’s the problem? She seems nice, and she’s attractive. And from the not-so-subtle hints she was dropping, she obviously wants to take care of you.”
“I don’t need someone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.” He couldn’t help the gruffness in his voice, but the subject of Leanne brought out his annoyance.
“So, what’s the big deal? Why don’t you just tell her that you’re not interested?”
“I’ve tried. Numerous times. But she doesn’t listen.”
“Maybe you’re not being clear enough.”
“I think I’m pretty clear. She just doesn’t believe me. Or says that she understands it might be too soon after my divorce, and she’s willing to wait.”
“You must be some catch.” Avery grinned at him, and his stomach did a little flip.
He knew that no smile Leanne had ever offered him had made his gut twist and churn like it did when Avery smiled.
“Not really. I’m surly and sullen and usually in a foul mood. I’m not even particularly nice to her.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I can see that.”
He didn’t like the way she so easily agreed with him. He was surly and sullen, but suddenly he realized he didn’t really want her to have that as her only impression of him. “Well, I’m not always in a bad mood. Especially not when I’m fishing.”
“And you are nice to your dog. Maybe she just likes a challenge. Although, if she were smart, she’d take up fishing. I heard it’s a great way to get a rod in your hands.”
His eyes widened, and he glanced at her, realizing she was teasing him. Damned if he didn’t like that she had a bit of a dirty mind.
She grinned mischievously then tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lips. “Okay, so she doesn’t accept the direct approach, and she seems oblivious to your hints. Maybe you need to try a different tactic.”
“Like what?”
“Like tell her you’re involved with someone else. Or drop some hints that you’re dating someone. Town this small, seems like you could tell the waitress at the breakfast diner that you were dating someone and the whole community would have you married off by the time the evening news came on.”
He chuckled. “True.”
“Seems easy enough. Or just go out on a couple of dates and get one of those gals to make you seem more serious than you are.”
She made it sound so simple. Like it was no big deal to go out on a couple of dates. He’d only been on one date since Sheila left.
“The flaw in your argument is the small town. First of all, I don’t really go on dates, and secondly, all the local single women know each other. There’s no way to keep a secret like that. Plus, none of them would want to appear taken and rule out their own chances of actually getting a date.”
“Hmm. I see your point. So, you just need to go out on a date with someone who’s not a local—who’s not from around here.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Really?”
“Sure. You’re a good-looking guy. I’m sure there are plenty of women who would be happy to go out on a date with you. You wouldn’t even have to tell them anything, just parade them around in town a little and get the rumor mills started. I’m sure it would get back to Leanne quickly enough.”
He was still stuck on the part where she’d said she thought he was a good-looking guy. “That sounds like an awful lot of trouble.”
“Not if it works. Or maybe you do enjoy the attention of Miss Short Tennis Skirt flaunting her little self around you and bringing you chicken salad sandwiches with sliced grapes.”
“Maybe we should get back to the fishing lesson,” he growled.
She grinned but let the comment go.
They spent another twenty minutes practicing before he declared she was ready to try actual fishing. He picked up the gear that he’d packed earlier and whistled for Sadie.
Avery grabbed the cooler and slung the strap over her shoulder. “We might as well bring the lunch, since Leanne went to all that trouble to make it for you and the reporter fellow. And chicken salad is one of my favorites.”
…
Avery took the last bite of her sandwich and groaned as she patted her stomach. “That was delicious, but now I’m so full.”
Sully tossed the crust of his sandwich to Sadie. “She might be annoying, but Leanne can cook.”
They’d hiked down to the river behind the shop, and Avery had sat on the banks, convincing him that she wanted to watch him fish first to study how it was supposed to be done.
In truth, she wanted to study the man more than the fishing techniques. Sully fascinated her, in turn both surly and sweet. He tended to be brusque when he talked to her or Matt but showed a tender side in the way he treated and spoke to his dog.
He was definitely a mystery. One that she was captivated enough to want to solve. He intrigued her, and she found herself wanting to draw out the sweet side of him. She wasn’t always so bold, but she enjoyed teasing him—liked to watch the tips of his ears go red when she taunted him with provocative fishing terms.
What made him so sullen, though? He seemed to have anger boiling just under the surface, evident by the grim set of his jaw.
Except when he was fishing.
Then he turned into a different man. His face relaxed and the tightness in his shoulders loosened. He looked at peace and even smiled at the antics of the dog or when he dropped his line in a particularly good spot.
He sometimes spoke to her in hushed tones, explaining what he was doing and teaching her how to read the water. But it was when he was quiet, when he was one with the river around him that she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him.
She’d watched him fish for an hour or so before they sprawled out on the bank and opened the cooler that Leanne had packed. She might be pushy and a little annoying, but Sully was right, the woman could cook.
“So what was all that business Leanne was saying concerning you not being excited about the reporter coming?” she asked, then was sorry she did when she saw his serene expression turn guarded as his forehead creased into tight furrows.
“I don’t know why she said that. She likes to act like she knows what I’m thinking. She dropped off some cookies last night, and I might have said something about wishing I knew the real reason for your visit—like what your end game was.”
“Geez, you’re a suspicious fellow, aren’t you? Do you always assume people have an ulterior motive when they ask you for something?”
He narrowed his eyes and offered a shrug as his answer.
Somebody had done a real number on this guy. “Well, I do want something from you. I want you to teach me to fish. And I want to write about you and your shop. I’ve realized this afternoon that you’re the real heart of the story. And the part that will make my story into something different than just a fluff piece.”
His face blanched. “I thought the story was about you. I didn’t realize you were even going to use the name of my shop.”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters to somebody,” he grumbled. “Why do you have to use my name? Why can’t you leave me out of it?”
What in the world was h
e talking about?
“How do you expect me to do an article about learning to fish at a fly fishing shop in the Colorado mountains and not use the name of the shop or the shop owner? And why in the world would you not want the publicity? It would surely help to bring in more business.”
“I’m not a big publicity kind of guy. And I have enough business. I lead a simple life, and I don’t want or need to have any more tourists clamoring at my door. We have plenty of them that find us on their own.”
There was more that he wasn’t saying. She could tell by the guarded expression, the tight set of his lips. A few extra tourists and more business wouldn’t make him angry.
“What are you not telling me?”
He picked up a rock and chucked it into the river. “Look, I know you came all the way out here to do an article, and that’s fine. I just don’t want the article to be about me or my shop. Maybe we should just forget this whole thing. There are plenty of other people that can teach you to fish. I can introduce you to Bud Frasier. He’s an outfitter that does both guided fishing trips and rafting. He’s a lot more exciting than I am, and he’s probably a better teacher. He’d give you much better material for your story.”
She studied his face. Something was going on, and her reporter mind wanted to know what it was. At least that’s what she was telling herself, not ready to admit that she might be more interested in the man with the mysterious brown eyes for more than his fishing acumen. The thought of not spending the next week with Sully had her gut twisting and her heart pounding in panic. She needed to rein this back in. “I don’t want to do an article about Bud Frasier, and I don’t want him teaching me how to fish. I want to learn from you. And you’re the heart and soul of Reed’s Run. You make me want to learn how to fish because you’re so passionate about it.”
His cheeks went pink, but the slight moment of pride she saw in his eyes disappeared as he shook his head. “What if I really did ask you not to do it, would you find another story?”
