Page 10 of Catch and Release Groom

I didn’t mean it that way.

That’swhat you’re upset about?

You can’t care so much what others think. No wonder you didn’t get much done today.

Between her father and Brett, Imogen was well aware of every time she was overly emotional or reacting bigger than a situation called for. Because shewashurt, they oftenmeanttheir words the way she’d taken them—she was relatively sure—and shedidcare what they thought. Hello, otherwise she wouldn’t have to pit her analytical side against her dreamer side so often.

“Same thing you do after a horse bucks you off,” Easton said, and was that it? She’d been hoping for something more applicable.

“Brush off the shit you inevitably landed in and tell life she’s a bitch?”

“Close. You dust yourself off, be it dirt or shit”—he offered her his hand—“and then you hop right back in the saddle.”

She placed her palm in his and let him haul her to her feet. Instead of immediately letting go, he readjusted his hold on her hand, enveloping it in his much bigger grip.

As her hype woman, Mallory constantly assured her she’d made the right decision by calling off the wedding. But deep down, along with her ceaseless worries and incessant thoughts, lingered the fear she’d unwittingly chosen a life of loneliness.

The percentage of availability in the dating pool drops from 54% to 18% between the ages of twenty-five to twenty-nine and down to 15% after that.

A future alone was better than years spent in regret, but she hadn’t quite convinced herselfshecould be content with that. Maybe it was because she’d been in a relationship for most of her adult life, or maybe it was because she’d never envisioned starting a family without a partner. Either way, she had all this love to give and no one to pour it out on.

Imogen peered beneath the bill of his hat, into the amber eyes that’d snagged hold of a tiny part of her before she even knew who he was. Or how hard he’d be to get along with.

“It’s not about anyone else, either,” he said, tightening his hold on her hand and pressing his thumb to the spot where it and her index finger met. “It’s about proving to yourself that you can succeed, even where you’ve failed before, and even if you need time to heal before you try again.”

Her constant swirl of thoughts slowed and quieted, allowing her to focus on the tenderness in his gaze, and she had the oddest urge to lean in and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for that.”

If she’d known the words would break the spell and make him drop her hand, she might not have uttered them. Might not have hesitated to defy decorum and press her lips to his whiskered face.

Too late now.

She helped gather the gear and secure it in the bed of the truck. As she headed for the cab, Easton remained at her side. He reached around her to open the passenger door and pointed to a foot-long groove in the frame she hadn’t noticed the first time around. “There’s the step I was going to mention before you catapulted your way into my truck.”

“Handy,” she said, since it was all she could think of to say. She snugged her toe into the skinny ledge, but before she got the chance to shift any weight onto her foot, Easton gripped her hips and boosted her the rest of the way into the vehicle.

After ensuring her arms and legs were safely tucked inside, he closed the door and rounded the hood, his furry sidekick in tow, and Imogen stretched herself taller so she could watch them through the wavy glass of the windshield. A longing sigh slipped free as she studied the seat of his jeans. The way he filled them out provoked sensations one might have in the middle of the desert, parched and on the verge of giving up, only to finally spot a neon sign leading to water.

“Talk about a nice swamp ass,” she muttered to herself, and her first instinct was to scold the brazen voice in her head that added she wouldn’t mind breaking off a piece of it while she was here.

Immediately the wheels in her brain got to cranking over the many, many reasons that was a bad idea. One she absolutely wasn’t going to entertain.

The door swung open, and Gator and Easton climbed in, and suddenly she was thinking about his earlier analogy, and how there was only one thing to do.

Time to get back on that horse.

Chapter Five

Originally, Easton had planned on being halfway to Uncertainty by now.

But after giving Birdie a quick recap of the day, she offered dinner at the resort’s renowned restaurant. Set on the bank of the lake, with a large deck that overlooked the water and its award-winning chef, it drew locals and guests alike.

“Call it a perk,” she’d said, and he’d still opened his mouth to refuse, a cold beer, his couch, and TV on his mind. But then she’d added, “Tonight’s beef tenderloin, and I’ve arranged for you to chat with three other local business owners who are lookin’ to sign on a fly-fisherman guide.”

With enough clients, Easton could get the wheels spinning again on his old dream—the one he’d let go of for Grace.

Bitterness panged, and he supposed that was the other reason for his dour mood anytime anyone mentioned his ex. If she was just going to dump him, why couldn’t she have done itbeforehe’d let go of the future he wanted in favor of hers?

The idea of starting over exhausted him, but if the fishing tours worked out, there’d be no more dilemma over sticking it out at the sheriff’s station, or whether he should transition to a full-time role with the search and rescue team, same way Ford had recently done.

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