Page 66 of Catch and Release

And she didn’t want a boyfriend.

Shawn couldn’t blame Willa. From what little he knew of her dating history, he could understand why she’d be skittish. And he’d take whatever she gave him. He’d follow her rules, do whatever it took so he could sink into her again.

And if she ended up falling for him in the process because he made her orgasm better than any other guy?

All the better for Shawn.

On the other hand, if their friends-with-benefits situationship ran its course after a few months and she dropped him like a fly…

Well, he’d figure it out if it came to that.

His phone buzzed, and Shawn reached for it so quickly he almost fell over. A quick look at his phone told him it was a text from Tucker, and he felt a twinge of disappointment that it wasn’t Willa. He cleared the text, deciding he’d respond later, and took a deep breath.

The sun was about to set, and he headed into the kitchen to have dinner before walking over to Willa’s. He grabbed some leftovers out of the fridge and put them in the microwave, then went to grab utensils.

There, sitting on the counter, was a polaroid picture of Willa. She was wearing one of those workout sets she had, and her back was facing the camera. Her hair was splayed out in the wind, her head spun around as she beamed at the camera. Her eyes were squinting as if she was looking into the sun.

Shawn picked up the picture and ran his fingers along the edges of it.

“It’s a good picture, isn’t it?” Grams said as she entered the kitchen behind Shawn.

He set the photo back down and grabbed his food from out of the microwave.

“Getting out the old polaroid again?” Shawn asked instead of answering.

She kept a polaroid camera in the foyer at all times “in case the creative mood strikes,” and occasionally, she took it with her on her outings. When that happened, she’d take about fifty photos and then wouldn’t touch the camera again for a couple of months.

“Felt like taking it on a walk earlier this week,” Grams said. “I saved all the polaroids in my fanny pack, but thought she’d want that one.”

Shawn looked up from where he was eating and nodded. “It’s a good one.”

“I’ll give it to her in the morning.”

“I’ll take it to her tonight,” he responded before he could stop himself, pocketing the photo.

“You sure are spending a lot of time over there,” Grams said.

Shawn scarfed down the last of his leftovers and stuck his plate in the sink.

“Just trying to be a friendly neighbor like you always taught me,” he responded, throwing a wink over his shoulder.

“Sure that’s all there is to it?”

“Course,” Shawn said. “We’re just fishing.”

“Hmmm.”

“Grams, stop. You promised, no more meddling.”

“I believe the terms of our agreement were that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone else,” Grams said. “But I can still speculate about your romantic entanglements with people, as far as I’m concerned.”

“There are no romantic entanglements to speculate about,” Shawn said, getting frustrated as he stood with his hand hovering over the doorknob. “And I’d appreciate it if you'd stop assuming there were. She’s not really my type. Plus, you know as well as I do that she just got out of a bad breakup. Even if I were interested, she isn’t. Case closed.”

“Not your type?” Grams drawled. “What, you’re not interested in beautiful yoga instructors who know how to fish?”

Shawn felt heat creep up his cheeks.

Grams damn well knew that was exactly his type, and he was losing steam in this argument, getting dangerously close to breaking one of Willa’s few rules.

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