Page 34 of Stay Toxic

Not a single dingy boat in sight.

Except for one, near the dock.

A lone male figure was on the boat, hands in his jacket pocket, hood up, staring out at the fog coming off of the lake.

Well, that one and Bronc’s bass boat that he got when he was seventeen.

Ryler’s boat was far newer, had way more bells and whistles, and still couldn’t outrun Bronc’s old Skeeter.

“How does this work?” I asked them.

“Two-boat team,” Holden said as he came up to us with a packet of papers in one hand. “One boat can fish and the other one can run fish in to get weighed. Female has to stay on the fishing boat at all times, though.”

I rolled my eyes. “What if I have to pee?”

“I got your potty right here,” Bronc drawled as he held up the bucket that I used to pee in when I had to go while fishing with him.

“There are about a hundred and fifty boats out here,” I said. “There’s no way in hell that I’m peeing in a bucket.”

“You could pee on the shore,” Holden said as he patted the boat. “We’re in position twenty-four to drop the boats in. Let’s get in line.”

I hopped into Bronc’s boat and shivered. “Hey, any of y’all have a bigger jacket in the car?”

“I have my hunting bibs,” Ryler said.

“Bring them, please,” I begged. “I’m freezing already.”

“I got you coffee,” Holden said as he handed me the cup of perfectly blended goodness.

He’d even remembered the cinnamon sugar sprinkles!

“Wow!” I gasped as I took a deep inhale. “You remembered my coffee order?”

“Not exactly,” Holden said. “I went to The Grizzly and the owner knew what you wanted.”

I giggled and took a sip through the straw.

She’d even remembered that I didn’t drink coffee without a straw!

I loved her.

“You should give her a fat tip,” I said.

“I did,” he admitted. “And she sent this.” He tossed a bag into my lap.

I peeked inside and found a pumpkin muffin, still warm from the oven.

“Wow,” I said. “I think we’re going to be best friends.”

Holden muttered something under his breath and got into Ryler’s boat.

Bronc and Tibbs joined me in Bronc’s, and we got in line.

The closer we got to putting our boat in, the brighter the sun in the sky became.

Bronc had just made the turn at the boat ramp to start backing his boat in when a familiar head of dark hair caught my eye.

My heart began to pound as that dark head of hair shifted in the breeze, stray locks of what looked to be the softest hair ever went this way and that, causing me to want to bury my fingers into it.

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