by Daws, Amy
“Exactly,” Maggie confirms.
“What kind of guy uses that word?”
“Exactly!” she exclaims, pleased with my small show of solidarity. “And he said I was really pretty and smart and an obvious match for him, but he wanted someone who brought more adventure into his life.”
“What a dick.” I scoff, squeezing my pole hard and thinking this guy deserves to get knocked the fuck out.
“Yet for some sick reason, I’m the asshole out here trying to find a sense of adventure.” She shrugs helplessly. “I was even texting him pictures of me trying to set up that ice hut today, thinking it might impress him. I’m so pathetic.”
“Is this how you think you’re going to win him back?” I ask while reeling my pole in a little.
She winces and begins tugging at her silky black hair. “I think trying out some outdoorsy adventure stuff could change how Sterling sees me. Make me seem less…basic.” She looks over at me with big, sad eyes and a pouty lip that have my body reacting carnally. “Does that make me a silly girl?”
I shake my head and fight the urge to throw her over my shoulder, take her back to my place, and show her she doesn’t need to change for some guy. She’s great just the way she is.
Instead, I inhale deeply and stare back at her, gentling my voice before I reply. “I think you’re silly for thinking that taking up extreme sports is going to make you look better to some guy. Especially since he sounds like an asshole.”
Her eyes flare. “You don’t even know him.”
“I know his type,” I grind out and jig my pole in frustration. “And the fact he thinks you need to change to be enough for him confirms my assessment. He’s blind because…well, hell…you’re clearly fucking awesome.”
As soon as my words are out, a heavy silence falls over us in the tent. I look over and see a faint puff of white air in front of Maggie’s lips as she exhales a breath and stares back at me with an intensity that’s hard to look away from.
Her eyes dart down to my lips. Slowly sliding my tongue across them, I do everything I can not to think of the last time we were here together. Of our bodies pressed together. Our tongues massaging each other and wishing they were licking something much more fleshy than just another fucking tongue.
I shouldn’t be thinking about this, though. Because if I think too hard, I’ll want it again. And this is something I shouldn’t want.
My gaze moves from her lips to her eyes, flashing back and forth, conflicted with which one I want to stare at more because both of them are making the crotch of my pants feel really fucking tight.
Damnit all to hell. Now I’m the one wanting to strip off my snowsuit because this potent energy pulsing between us is smothering my poor ball sack. And my dick wants to be suffocated by something else entirely.
I make a small move toward her, and she gasps, her eyes flying wide. “Are you getting a bite?” she exclaims, her voice all froggy and weird sounding.
My gaze snaps to my pole, then I look at the monitor and see nothing but an empty lake below. “There’s nothing there,” I reply. Settling back on my stool, I stare for a moment longer, expecting to see something show up.
She clears her throat. “Oh, sorry…I swore I saw your line move.”
Depends on which line she’s referring to. Because if it’s the thick one between my legs, then there was definite movement. “Yeah, maybe it’ll come back,” I state with a hopefulness to my tone that I can’t hide.
Goddamnit, I want to fuck this girl. I want to fuck her right here and right now. But she just told me she’s trying to win her ex back so that should be a deal breaker. That should have me running in the opposite direction because I don’t do girls with baggage. That’s a hard pass for me, normally. But for some ridiculous reason, her innocent idealism keeps drawing me back to her.
I clear my throat and ask the first thing that pops into my head. “So what kind of crazy stuff did you want to try to get your ex back?” I turn to look at her with a forced smile. “’Cuz I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but ice fishing is not what I would call super adventurous.”
“I know,” she grumbles, and her eyes light up as she points at the monitor as that school of fish reappear. “It was just the first thing I tried, and I have to admit, I kind of like it.”
I smile at that because it makes the fact that I took a chance by inviting her out here all the more worth it.
She wiggles her pole a little. “But I’m going to try something more daring because, deep down, I think Sterling might be right,” she adds, tucking her hair behind her ears. “My whole life has been safe and easy. I make plans, and I stick to them. I don’t handle change very well. So now is the perfect time for me to break some of my own rules.”
A grin splits my face as I check out this stunning, very girlie chick sitting on a hard stool in the middle of a frozen lake. “Breaking some rules can be fun,” I reply and drag a deep, cleansing breath in as I wish she’d break some rules with me right now. I clear my throat harshly, struggling to get my mind out of the gutter. “And as much as it pains me to say this, I actually think it’s pretty cool that you’re going to such lengths for a guy. Not many girls would bother.”
At that moment, she gets a bite, and without any guidance from me, she sets the hook like a fucking pro. “I got one!” she squeals and begins cranking her reel. “I got it on my own this time!”
I smile and drop down onto my knees while feeling really weirded out that this is turning me on so much. I steady my thoughts, and say, “Let’s see if you can reel it in on your own, too.”
“Okay,” she beams, sticking her tongue out as she concentrates.
I watch her with great fascination because even though everything she said sounded like everything I’d run the fuck away from, something about her keeps reeling me back in.
Little Fish…Big Problem
“Happy Birthday!” my mom cheers as my three sisters finish singing to me in perfect harmony.
I lean over to blow out the candles with my eight-year-old niece, Kinsley, propped on one knee, and my six-year-old nephew, Zion, propped on the other. They both stare at me with sad puppy dog eyes.
“You guys don’t think I can blow all these candles out myself, do you?” I waggle my brows and watch their faces transform into pure joy as they lean in and basically spit all over my birthday cake.
It’ll still taste delicious.
Sliding off my lap, they rush over to my mom when she drags the cake to where she’s sitting beside me. “Who wants Uncle Sammy’s face?”
“Me, Grandma!” Kinsley squeals. Making a fist around her plastic fork, she growls, “I want to murder Sammy’s face!”
Everyone’s smile falls as we stare at her in disturbed horror. I look at my oldest sister, Tracey, who’s horrified eyes are locked on her daughter. “Kinsley, what did Mommy say about murder?”
“Come again?” I croak, rapidly blinking up at her from where she stands on the other side of me.
Kinsley’s voice sounds sad. “Don’t repeat what you hear in Mommy’s car.”
Tracey laughs awkwardly and looks around at all of us with crazy eyes. “I’m so sorry. She heard a tiny little bit of My Favorite Murder podcast, and now she’s all weird and murdery. We’re working on it.”
My other two sisters, Erin and Holly, do nothing to conceal their looks of judgment as they both balance a toddler on their hips.
“Work harder maybe,” Holly states, grabbing Tracey’s arm seriously.
“Shut up, Holly! Like you’re one to talk. Isaiah fell out of his crib last week.”
“That situation is under control!” she growls back through clenched teeth while clutching her one-year-old tightly to her chest.
“So is mine,” Tracey harrumphs.
“Girls…my darling grandchildren clearly don’t need to watch you two have a catfight, so please, sit down and eat your feelings like normal mothers.”
My three sisters all sullenly take their s
eats as my mom dishes everyone a giant piece of white sheet cake. Between my three older sisters, I’m the proud uncle to three nephews and, apparently, one murder-loving niece. Holly’s having her second child any day now to even the playing field a little for the girls.
My sisters all look just like my mom with fair skin, freckles, and shades of auburn hair. However, the truth is, my mom looks more like their oldest sister than their mother because the woman hasn’t aged a day since I was old enough to notice.
Debrah O’Connor is an RN at the hospital in Boulder and a favorite with all her patients. She works way too fucking hard, but you can’t stop her. She’ll work a twelve-hour shift, bake a birthday cake, and still offer to babysit all her grandkids without hesitation. She is like the Energizer Bunny.
And even though she doesn’t have a single gray strand in her short, auburn hair, I know working so hard wears on her. Occasionally, when she thinks no one is looking, I see her wincing when she’s crawling on the floor with her grandkids. She’s only sixty-years-old, but all those years of working on the hospital floors have taken a toll. I can tell her she’s pushing herself too hard, and I frequently ride her ass about retiring but she just shushes me and says she has a plan and she can’t afford to quit now.
It kills me because I want to fix it for her. She deserves that.
“I’m glad you could come over for some cake, Sammy,” Mom says, smiling at me with that motherly twinkle in her eye.
“Well, I had to fix your garage door, so I figured I could choke down some cake too.” I wink playfully at her because she knows I’ll always be parked at this old kitchen table on my birthday eating her homemade sheet cake with my face printed on it.
“I told you the garage door could wait,” she tuts, the corners of her mouth turning down.
I stare at her for a beat. “Mom, it’s twenty below out there. You don’t need to be parking your car outside.”
“I don’t mind!”
“Speaking of fixing stuff,” Tracey interrupts and looks straight at me. “My water softener has been really loud lately, Sammy. What do you think that means?”
“Is it still cycling salt through?” I ask, pushing my bite of cake to the corner of my mouth.
Tracey looks at me with blank eyes. “How would I know?”
“When’s the last time you put salt in the tank?”
Her lips twist into a grimace. “Matt was probably the last one to do it.”
I nod and inhale when she mentions her ex-husband who was about as handy as a toddler. “I’ll come look at it tomorrow.”
“Thank you!” she rushes out in gratitude. “Did you hear that, guys? Uncle Sammy is coming over tomorrow for Sunday Funday.”
“Yes!” Zion exclaims. “We’re going to play Madden, and I am going to destroy you…again.”
I roll my eyes. “You’d better watch it, twerp, or I’ll bring in my secret weapon.”
“Which is?” Zion stares back at me with a challenge in his eyes.
I point at my niece who smiles with a decidedly murdery smile. Zion’s face falls. “No fair…Kinsley is good at everything.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Every dog has his day, man. Don’t give up.”
The kids finish their cake and take off upstairs to where my mom has redecorated all our old childhood bedrooms into themed playrooms for the kids. Whenever we’re all here, they always play upstairs and make an epic mess. They love it.
“So Sammy, what are your birthday plans tonight?” Mom asks, slipping a forkful of white cake into her mouth.
“You’re looking at it,” I reply, lopping one more bite of cake off the cardboard tray.
Erin’s eyes narrow on me. “You’re not going out for your birthday?”
“Nah. What’s so special about thirty-one? It’s just one year closer to forty. Plus, I have some business proposals I need to finish for Uncle Terry. I want him to approve them before he takes off in six months.”
“Sammy,” my mom says in her scolding voice. “It’s your birthday. You should go do something fun. You work too hard.”
“I went ice fishing today. That was fun.” I shrug.
My sisters all look at me with sad eyes, but Tracey is the one who speaks up. “I hate how you ice fish alone all the time. And you’re alone in that log cabin you bought in the country, too. It’s depressing.”
“And a little pathetic,” Erin adds.
“You’re turning into a hermit,” Holly chimes in at the end. “Or one of those rural weirdos from Tracey’s murder podcasts.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “I like my acreage, and I like my cabin. People who live in town can be lonely and murdery too…it’s not the country that makes someone homicidal. And for your information, I wasn’t alone when I went ice fishing today, so get off my back!”
“You weren’t alone?” Mom asks, looking at me with fear in her eyes. “Who were you with? It wasn’t him, was it?”
“No,” I reply with an annoyed growl. “God, no. It wasn’t him…it was just a girl.”
“What girl?” Holly chirps.
“Just a chick who’s new to ice fishing and needed some help.”
“You took someone who wasn’t Dad out ice fishing?” Tracey asks, her jaw dropped.
“Yes,” I reply, my shoulders tensing at their overreaction. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“You never take anyone ice fishing,” Holly states, and I swear I can see the anger rising up to her eyeballs. “I’ve asked you to take me hundreds of times, and you always say no.”
“Well, it wasn’t a planned thing,” I argue and fork my last bite into my mouth. “It just sort of…happened…twice.”
“Twice?” my sisters all exclaim at once.
Just then the doorbell rings. In a flash, I splay my hands out on the table and push my chair back loudly. “Please, for the love of all things holy, let me get that.”
I hear my sisters gossiping behind me as I stride down the hallway to the front door. When I open it, I’m shocked to see Miles on the other side with a big, toothy smile. “Happy Birthday, dick stain.”
I squint against the setting sun behind him. “Thanks? What are you doing here, man?”
Miles punches me in the shoulder playfully. “You weren’t at your place, so I figured you were here. Come on, I’m taking you out.”
“Where’s Kate?” I ask, looking behind him at his empty truck.
“She’s saving us seats at Pearl Street Pub. We got a table.”
“Damn, I haven’t been there in forever,” I state, rubbing my jaw excitedly. Miles and I used to frequent the bar after work until I got busy with Tire Depot and he got busy with Kate.
“You’d better not even think about going there with someone else,” he retorts seriously. “I know I’ve been distracted, but Pearl Street Pub is our place, and I’ll fuck up anyone who tries to go there with you and take my place.”
I stare at Miles with a slow shake of my head. “Come on, man.”
He closes his eyes and presses his hand to his face. “I know. Goddamnit, I’m just going to give you my man card now because I’m sure that’s not going to be the last cheesy thing that comes out of my mouth tonight. Living with a romance novelist is ruining me.”
I laugh and yank Miles inside to say hello to my family while I run upstairs to give my nephews and niece a hug goodbye. After buttoning a couple more buttons on my green flannel shirt, I ask, “Am I dressed okay?”
Miles looks me up and down. “You’re wearing boots, jeans, and a flannel…that’s basically the Boulder dress code, bro. You look fine. Let’s go.”
I leave my SUV in the driveway and hop into Miles’s truck. I hold my hands up to the heat vents, still feeling a nip on my skin from fishing earlier today.
“So did you see her?” Miles asks as he maneuvers out of the neighborhood.
“See who?” I ask, eyeing him curiously.
“The ice fishing hottie.”
I huff out a laugh. “Oh,
I saw her all right.”
Miles hits the steering wheel. “Yeah, you did! Did you get birthday sex already? I was prepared to wingman you tonight.”
My brow furrows. “I did not get birthday sex.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing, technically, but goddamn, I don’t know, man. This girl makes me fucking crazy. She’s young but not necessarily immature, just like idealistic or some shit. And she’s crazy hot. I got a glimpse of her tits, and they are like two water balloons that I know would fit perfectly in my hands.”
“Nice,” Miles replies with a knowing nod. “Gotta love a good handful.”
“Right,” I reply. “She’s like no one I’ve ever hooked up with before, which I think is why I can’t seem to stay away from her. And every once in a while, she gets a spark in her eye that makes me want to…”
“What?” Miles asks, his tongue nearly hanging out of his mouth as he listens intently. “Fuck her in a tent in the woods so people in the next campsite over can hear you and give you a mental high five?”
I eye him curiously. “I was thinking more like throw her up against a wall, but sure, your tent idea sounds pretty nice too.”
“Damn right, it does.” He fist-bumps me.
I stare out the window at the fresh snow that’s begun falling. I love fresh snow. It’s so…untainted. “This might actually be the first girl I break some rules for, Miles.”
“Shock, awe, stupor, aghast, agog.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, turning to Miles as he continues watching the road.
“I’m giving you adjectives for the word shock because I’m in major shock right now.”
“Why are you giving me adjectives?”
“It’s just something I do with Kate when she’s looking for a better word in her book. I thought I could make it a thing between you and me too.” His face looks so hopeful. I almost feel bad for crushing it.
Almost.
“Nah, man. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”
