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The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(70)

Author:Jewel E. Ann

“Where are we going? I have to pee,” I whispered.

“On a hike. We’ll find you a rock to pee on.”

I laughed as he led us out of earshot from Rory and Rose. “Why a rock?”

“It’s the more eco-friendly place to pee. It dries. Nothing is harmed. And I know you’re an eco-friendly girl.” He glanced back and smirked.

The organic cotton tampons.

“What about Rory and Rose?” I asked.

“I don’t know what tampons they use.”

Rolling eyes, I shook my head. “I mean, what happens when they wake up and we’re gone?”

“I’m going with alien abduction. Rose is a real conspiracy theorist. And I know she believes in aliens.”

“She does?”

“Fuck. I don’t know. I’m just making shit up to entertain you. Are you entertained?” He shot me a sideways glance as I caught up to him.

I didn’t want to grin, but I did. He squeezed my hand as we made our way up the incline. I wondered if he had meaningless banter like that with Angie. And by meaningless, I meant it was everything. It meant we made each other laugh. It meant he enjoyed being with me as much as I enjoyed being with him.

And I wanted it to mean that we were meant to be together—that we would be together.

“I’m always entertained by you. And … I still need to pee. We’re passing a lot of good rocks.”

“Sorry.” He released my hand and pointed to a rock just off the trail. “That one should work.”

I glanced in both directions. There didn’t seem to be anyone close by us. “Okay.” I maneuvered my way to the rock and turned toward the trail, hands starting to unbutton my jeans and pull down my zipper. “What are you doing?”

He stood on the trail, arms crossed over his chest. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you standing there, staring at me?”

“I’m keeping a watch out for you.”

“But you’re staring at me. I’m not going to pee with you staring at me.”

“I’ve seen you naked.”

“And I’ve seen you naked, but I don’t want to watch you pee.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to watch you. I said I’m keeping a watch out for you.”

“Turn around.”

“Just hurry up.”

“I can’t hurry up! I have to remove my boots and my jeans.”

“Why are you removing your boots?”

“Because I have to remove my boots to take off my jeans.”

“Why are you taking off your jeans?”

“Because I don’t have a penis!”

And then … a middle-aged gentleman made his way down the trail, hearing me loud and clear, a tiny grin pinned to his face as he glanced over at me with my jeans unbuttoned and unzipped.

“Morning.” Fisher smiled and gave the guy a little chin nod.

I dropped my face in my hands. “Kill me now,” I whispered.

“I’ll turn around.” He chuckled.

There was most likely an art to squat-peeing without removing one’s jeans, but I wasn’t trained well in that technique. I knew my attempt would have led to my jeans being doused in urine. So yeah, I removed everything below my waist before angling myself to pee on the rock.

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