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The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(18)

Author:Jewel E. Ann

Fisher grabbed a box too and wedged it between his arm and chest, following us into the house, into my bedroom.

Rose set her box down and headed back outside. I set my box on the bed and started to brush past Fisher as he set his box next to mine.

“Was I the some jerk?”

I stopped in the doorway with my back to him. After a few seconds to figure out an honest answer, I glanced over my shoulder. “You were my favorite jerk.” I shot him an exaggerated smile, using fake humor to hide the depths of my emotions. “But yes … you made fun of my long arms.” Without waiting for his response, I strode outside again.

Rory joined us, and the four of us had everything unloaded in less than ten minutes.

“Thank you, Fisher.” Rory thanked him before I got the chance to do it. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”

“No ride. Thanks for dinner.”

“Night, Fish,” Rose called from the kitchen as she started washing dishes.

“I’m going to lock the trailer and my car,” I said to Rory as I followed Fisher out the door.

“Okay.”

We said nothing while strolling down the driveway. I veered off to the left to lock the trailer.

Fisher stopped, sliding his good hand into his back jeans pocket. “I don’t really think I’m going to care for them, but if you want to drop off some puzzles … just…” he shrugged “…whenever. I’ll give them a try. No rush. It’s really … no big deal.”

I locked the trailer and leaned my back against it, crossing my arms over my chest. “Okay. I’ll drop some off tomorrow.”

“There’s no rush.” He tried so hard to be nonchalant with me.

“Okay.” I nodded several times. “So … I’ll drop them off tomorrow.”

He fought his grin, but it won.

I won.

“I guess tomorrow is fine.”

I didn’t know who Angie got when they were together. I didn’t know the anxiety ridden Fisher my mom had told me about.

My Fisher was still in his skin. Too cool for his own good.

A streak of crudeness.

And a little extra.

“I was uh…” he tipped his chin to his chest “…looking through pictures on my phone. And I came across some of you and one of us. We were in the mountains. Your hair was longer. But other than that, you looked the same. Do you remember that?” Fisher forced his gaze up to meet mine. Confusion ate into his face along his brow and at the corners of his eyes.

I smiled. “Yes. My memory is fine.”

“And … what were we doing? Was Rory there too? She wasn’t in any of the pictures.”

“No. It was just us. Rory was in California for work. I had never been in the mountains, and I really wanted to go. But both you and Rory had a little fit over me driving there by myself. So you took me. On your motorcycle. We stopped at that lookout point and snapped a few pictures. Then we ate pizza at Beau Jo’s pizza on our way home. It …”

My grin swelled. “It was a good day. A great day, really. My first time in the Rockies. My first time on the back of a motorcycle. My first time dipping thick wheat pizza crust in honey.”

He nodded slowly. “So we did stuff outside of work?”

“Sometimes. We went on a double … well … triple date once. Arnie invited me to one of his concerts. You and Angie were there, and my friend and her boyfriend joined us as well. I was underage; therefore, I was the DD that night.”

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