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“No, that’s okay. I’ll go with you. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” I said, shrugging my shoulders casually.

“Fine, we’ll take my truck.” I heard him sigh and I had to fight to hide my smile as I followed him across the parking lot.

We were quiet as we drove to the hardware store, and even while we gathered several brushes and sandpaper then waited for the man at the counter to mix our paint. So, I was surprised on the way back to the lake when Zach spoke up.

“I didn’t eat any breakfast and I’m starving. I think I’ll drive through for some food before we get to work. That okay with you?” he asked.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I could use another coffee,” I said.

He pulled into a nearby drive-thru and ordered a breakfast bagel and two cups of coffee then turned to me. “You want anything to eat?”

“Nah, I already ate, but thanks,” I said.

He pulled up to the window and I watched him as he lifted his hips and dug his wallet out of his back pocket. The move shouldn’t have been sexy, but it planted images in my head of those hips rising up to meet mine and I had to swallow back a groan as I turned and looked out my own window. The guy was sexy as fuck, there was no denying that, but I could barely get him to look me in the eye or talk to me. If he knew the things I’d been thinking about him, I’d scare him away for sure.

Zach had finished eating by the time we got back to the lake. It was barely ten in the morning, and the place was already busy. Several new campers had arrived while we were gone, and their owners waved to us as we drove by. We drove around to the far-left side and pulled up near a large pole barn. He put the truck in park and we both got out.

Zach slid the large door open and I peered inside. It was dark and smelled like dust and gasoline. The place was filled with old signs, fishing equipment, chairs, lanterns, and two large riding lawn mowers, which explained the smell of gas. It was obviously where they stored the things that were too big or not used often enough to be kept in the smaller shed.

Fortunately, someone had taken the time to organize it and put most of the smaller items up on shelves, and I wondered if that someone had been Zach. From what I’d seen of his home the day before, he liked to keep things orderly. Although, I’d been disappointed that there had been no personal items on display that would’ve given me a clue about who he really was.

I followed him to the back of the barn, careful not to trip over anything. The only light was from the open door and two small, grungy-looking windows on either side. When we got there, I saw a row of five wooden picnic tables.

“We need to load each of these up, check them for any loose boards or splinters and paint them before we put them out around the lake,” Zach told me.

“Okay. That shouldn’t take too long,” I said as he moved around to the end of one of the tables. He laughed then, and I was glad it was dark, so he couldn’t see the shiver that went through me.

“Umm, I hate to break it to you, but that’s just the ones in here. There are at least thirty others already around the lake that need cleaned up too,” he explained.

I let out a low whistle. “Oh. Well, I guess that’s going to take a little bit longer then,” I said with a chuckle.

We got to work then, carrying each table out of the barn. They were solidly built and fairly heavy and I wondered how in the world Zach had managed to do that all by himself the year before. We could only fit two at a time into the bed of the truck, so we decided to load up what we could and come back for the rest.

After we got the tables situated in their new locations, we worked together on each one and before long we had a steady rhythm going between us. Zach would check the boards and tell me if any of them were loose, in which case, I would follow along with a hammer and some nails, securing them back in place. Then I would sand down any rough areas while Zach mixed and poured the paint into smaller containers that we could hold as we worked.

We worked for a couple of hours and then took a break for lunch. I invited him over to my cabin this time, explaining that I’d gone shopping. I expected to have to talk him into it, but he surprised me when he agreed right away.

Somewhere along the line, it seemed that the tension between us had shifted and we were starting to form a friendship of sorts. I knew that it was precarious, and that any sudden movements on my part could rock the delicate balance between us, but I was happy that at least so far, he seemed to be relaxing around me.

“So, Edith was saying something about getting the place ready for Memorial Day and I assume that’s why we put out extra tables. What goes on around here then?” I asked as we began eating.

Zach finished chewing the bite he had in his mouth and then set down the grilled chicken sandwich I’d made him. “It’s not just that day. It’s a huge event that lasts the entire weekend,” he said.

“What kind of event?” I asked, curiously.

“Well, there’s games and prizes for the kids, tons of food, fireworks and of course the main event is the big catfish contest,” he explained.

“Catfish contest?” I sputtered. Zach smiled at me over his glass of lemonade and I wondered if he was pulling my leg.

“Yeah. We have contests here all the time that pay out to the person with the largest catch,” he told me.

“Is that what all those photos hanging up in the bait shop are all about?” I asked.

“Yeah, exactly. The Memorial Day catfish contest is the biggest one of the year though. There’s the usual cash prizes for the largest catch, but everyone is after one fish in particular. The biggest, meanest fish in the lake.” He leaned forward like he was about to share an important secret and I felt myself lean closer too, grinning as I went.

“Moby Dick,” Zach whispered.

“No!” I gasped dramatically.

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