"What is this swill? Why are we drinking this?" West yelps, ignoring Barrett's reminder to be quiet.
His discomfort gives me immense joy. "I'm trying to get into the mind of my character. He drinks cheap beer, so that's whatI've got." I finally get the line tied and then focus on baiting my lure.
"So, we all have to suffer?" West puts the can down on the dock gingerly, as if even touching it is beneath him. He jumps up, pointing his finger in my face and grins. "I know you have whiskey somewhere, Ethan Hobbs, and I'm going to find it. Barrett, watch my line. Ethan…" West turns to me quickly, a serious expression suddenly on his face. "Whatever you do, do not touch my pole." He waves his hand over me quickly. "Bad mojo coming from you for fishing." He grins and then ambles up the dock and into the house.
Once West is at a safe distance, Barrett glances at me. "You still have writer's block?"
"Yep." I sigh, abandoning my pole on the dock as I take a seat in West's now empty chair.
I stare out at the water, watching the boats in the distance. They create waves that slap against the dock beneath us. I don't care what West or my father says. Living on a lake is about watching the water and getting lost in the sounds. My family used to come to Festival Valley when I was a kid, and later we'd meet here in the summers on break from college.
I majored in English Literature at an Ivy League school. The wrong one, according to my father who went to Princeton, as did my grandfather, and his father before him. My brother chose correctly, pursing law and falling in line like a good little Hobbs. My father might have been proud if I had ambitions to write the next great American novel, but when I hit the best-sellers list and started appearing in every airport bookstore in the country, he dismissed it as if it was a foolish hobby. He's a bit of a snob, but I don't live my life for him. I've written twenty books since then, and have loved every minute of it. Something about this next book is holding me back, though.
I grab a cold can of beer and crack open the top.
"Didn't you skip Christmas because you were blocked?" Barrett prods again.
"Yep." I take a sip of beer and glance at Barrett over the lip of the can. "West is a diva. This isn't bad at all."
Barrett grunts. "You're telling me. I grew up with that nut job." He smiles out at the water, his love for his brother ringing contrary to his words.
Suddenly, West's pole begins to dip, and I grab it instinctively. "Oh shit. What do I do again?"
"Oh no. You touched the pole. Okay, let's get it in before he comes back. He's actually superstitious, and if he sees you, we'll have to hear about it for the rest of the weekend." Barrett stands and guides me through the process. "Alright, now, slowly reel it in and let it out a bit so the line doesn't break."
I follow Barrett's instructions. After a good five minutes, the fish flops out of the water, but a larger wave hits the dock and the fish somehow disengages from the hook. "Shit!"
"Ah, nothing you can do about that, man." Barrett claps me on the back, as he inspects the now empty hook. "Let's get it out in the water before West gets down here. He won't believe me if I tell him it wasn't your fault." He quickly baits the hook for me, and I whip the pole's line behind me. It pulls taut, and I hear a yelp and a woman's voice scream, "Ow! Fucking hell!" The line snaps free.
Dropping the pole, I turn to the other side of the dock and see a woman about twenty yards out. She's holding her arm.
"Shit! You hooked her, Ethan." Barrett points at the woman, but she gets dunked under the water by another wave caused by the wake of a boat speeding too close to shore. She bobs up, her lifejacket doing the job, and then coughs out water as she looks around wildly.
"I'm so sorry, miss! Here! Come over this way," I call out, and the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen turn toward me.Holy shit.
"No, I got turned around. I'll come up on shore here." Her melodic voice calls out, but she sounds tired. Why is she swimming over here? Noting the lifejacket again, I scan the water for a capsized canoe or kayak.
"Do you have swim shoes on?" I call out, and she shakes her head no. "It's too rocky by the shore. You'll cut your feet."
She turns to determine her odds for herself, and I can see the hook in her arm. I think I'm going to be sick. "Please let me help you!" I call to her, and she eventually nods. She makes her way to the dock, and I reach my hand down for her just as another wave sweeps her under to the other side of the dock.
A loud knock sounds on the underside of the dock, and Barrett looks at me, his eyes wide. "Was that her head?" Barrett gets down on his knees trying to see under the dock, but she bobs up on the other side cursing like a sailor.
I reach down and grab the back of her lifejacket, pulling her up and laying her down gently as she tries to catch her breath.
The woman's long hair is plastered to her head, and her chest heaves. She turns and looks up at me and our eyes lock, stealing my breath away.
Like a switch goes off in my brain, my heart opens for the first time in my life and beats in a rhythm designed for her. A bright light circles this gorgeous woman's face, and suddenly I can't stop my brain from thinking about love, lust, and life. Her mocha eyes, glinting with hints of caramel, gaze into my soul.
This curvy Aphrodite is my everything. My reason for living.Mine.
"Is she okay? Ethan? Should I call an ambulance? Check for splinters." Barrett gets out his phone, pacing as he waits for me to respond. I shake my head, unsure what to do.
The woman pulls at her vest, and I quickly snap open the little clips, freeing her sexy curves.Not now, creep.
I check her arms, wincing at the hook sticking out of her skin, and then push on her neck gently, as I help her turn to her side. She coughs, spitting lake water onto the dock. "What's your name? Does anything hurt?"
"Um, Brynn." She examines the hook, and before I can stop her, she loosens it out of her skin, yelping in pain and then tosses it to the deck.