Page 85 of Someone to Tempt
“I caught a fish,” I murmur. Not something I would have placed on my fun list if you’d asked me two weeks—or even two minutes—ago.And maybe something else I didn’t know I was searching for.
Jake casts again, then holds out the rod. “Are you ready for more?”
My smile feels like it’s lighting up my whole body. “You bet.”
We stay out there for hours as Jake regales me with stories of the adventures he and his brother used to have. I share some of my own childhood tales, most of which have a vaguely heartbreaking undertone since most of my memories involve times when our mother left Nick and me alone, and we kept each other entertained. Jake seems to find the humor in them, helping me realize that while our upbringings were different, they were also similar in a lot of ways. We both had parents who arguably had their own interests front of mind when it came to raising children.
As an adult, I’d like to give my mother the benefit of the doubt that she tried her best. I’d say the same for Jake’s mom, whom he speaks of with quiet affection, and who seemed so used to living in the shadow of her domineering husband, she couldn’t break out of it even for the sake of her two sons.
With Jake’s help, I catch and release four more fish. “Let’s face it,” I say as he rows the boat toward shore, “I’m a natural fisher whisperer.”
“You came to slay.” Jake seems perfectly content not to have cast a single line for himself, but to find joy in my joy.I could watch that all day.
It dawns on me that the best part of the afternoon was not catching the fish, although I did love feeling that first tug on the line. The real beauty of it is sharing my happiness with Jake and feeling his in return. I’m not trying to impress him, and he doesn’t have to show off. Neither of us have to prove anything or make up for past mistakes.
I want more of this feeling—with him and because of him. And let’s be honest. I’ve never been one to truly go for my dreams, or even believe I deserve them to come true. I’ve been so busy trying not to be my mother, I lost sight of—or maybe I never really thought about—who I was becoming in the process. And whether or not I liked that person.For the first time in forever, I’m not afraid of wanting.
He rows the boat to shore, then helps me out with a steady hand and a gentle kiss.
I know with certainty that I like who I am with Jake. Not the serious, practical version of me who is always in lock-step with my schedule. Or the frightened girl who held onto control with a death grip.
As we unload the gear, my cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much. I watch Jake drag the boat onto the sandy shore but don’t follow him toward the truck.
“You know what would make this day even better?” I ask as I toe off my sneakers.
He glances over his shoulder with a teasing grin. “I have a few ideas. Dixon, what are you doing?”
I give him an exaggerated wink as I undo the zipper of my jeans and ease them and my panties over my hips. “Let’s go for a swim.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “It’s October, woman. Ever heard of shrinkage?”
I continue my awkward strip tease. Although the sun is just starting to dip below the nearby peaks, the air is still warm enough that I can’t blame my trembling fingers on that. It’s nerves.
I don’t do flirting. Or seduction. There are too many past recollections of how sensuality—and even sexuality—is tied up with emotional pain and manipulation.
But everything feels different with Jake. I’m different.
He hasn’t joined me in undressing, but my confidence is bolstered by the way his eyes linger, his nostrils flaring with every inch of skin I reveal.
“Seriously going to kill me,” he mutters and takes a half step forward before shaking his head. “There’s a hot spring not many people know about tucked between this property and my grandpa’s ranch. Let’s drive over there.”
“Maybe it’s time you embrace a little spontaneous fun, Jake.” I step closer to the edge of the water. “Because I’m here for all of it, even the polar plunge kind.”
“Do I need to explain to you how snow runoff works?”
“Stop being so serious,” I say as I whip off my sweatshirt.
He growls in response, low and dangerous like he’s seconds away from devouring me. “I guarantee hypothermia is serious.”
The breeze ruffles my hair and—yikes—not having the sunlight makes a difference in the temps. Goosebumps erupt along my skin, but I’m not stopping. I am fully invested in my unintentional fun.
“Just a few minutes won’t kill us.” I crook my finger as I back up along the sandy shore.
When gravel pokes into the bottom of my feet, I try not to wince, realizing I should have thought this out a little better.I can do hard things.
Jake is slowly moving forward, and I point a finger in his direction. “Take off your clothes,” I command. My voice booms out, echoing across the still water.
He smirks. “Now she’s getting bossy.”
