Page 26 of Catch and Release Groom

It’s been over a month. Surely that counts for something.

By the time they were situated and pushing off from the dock, the other couples had turned their flock around to resume their journey across the lake.

All Imogen cared about now was reaching the falls, not the speed with which they did so; Easton, however, obviously had something to prove. She debated telling him that racing ahead wasn’t the best clapback to “good things come to those who wait,” but ruled in favor of watching his thighs pump double-time instead.

Flexing and bunching, flexing and bunching.

Flexing.She attempted to swallow and found her throat bone-dry.

Bunching.

The ship wobbled slightly as Gator shifted from Easton’s seat to Imogen’s. Having the fluffy puppy smooshed against her side hardly eased the heat pumping through her body—both from pedaling and ogling—but with any luck, it’d hide the fact that she couldn’t keep up.

Imogen peeked through the tufts of Gator’s windblown fur at Easton, wondering what’d led him to change his mind. As flattering as it’d be to believe she was just that good of a kisser, delusions of grandeur had never done her any favors.

He must’ve sensed the weight of her gaze, as he glanced over without warning. She sank her teeth into her lower lip, her pulse kicking into high gear when his golden eyes tracked the motion, and perhaps he wasn’t the only one in this watercraft with power, after all.

Easton canted his body toward hers, and Imogen nudged Gator to the other side of her seat, her arm remaining around the dog’s middle, just in case.

Whether she meant falling in the water or Easton kissing her again? Well, how important was intent, really? Save maybe, like, during a murder trial.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he said, and she sucked in a breath as if that would fortify her for whatever came next. “You want me to go on all these cheesy outings with you this week so you don’t have to do them alone, and I reckon I don’t have anything better to do between fishin’ lessons.”

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. “Wow. Good thing I didn’t ask for flattery.”

“Good thing,” he repeated, reaching out and swiping the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, giving extra care to the spot she’d bitten. His other finger hooked beneath her chin, and once their eyes locked, she no longer wanted to put up a fight. “You want me to tell you that kiss left me with blue balls and that I don’t usually lose control like that?”

Where had all the fresh country air gone? Perhaps she’d inhaled so much it’d transferred to her hardening nipples. Dizzy from either too much oxygen or not enough, Imogen forced her voice to remain steadier than she felt. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Expelling a sigh on the long-suffering side, Easton shook his head and loosened his grip on her chin.

Wait,everything within her screamed. She’d resolved to never let another man barrel over her again, and so she’d endeavored to remain firm. Unyielding.

In the case of this man, however, being barreled into—over, under, through, or whatever else Mr. Grumpy Fisherman commanded her to do—might just be worth it.

“All right, I’ll clarify,” he said. “What’s in it for me?”

Imogen wasn’t sure when she’d become someone who audibly gasped, but another one slipped out. “Um, you get to hang out with me.”

The shoreline loomed, step one in their treasure hunt to the falls almost complete. “Afraid that’s not going to be enough,” he said, so matter-of-factly that offense tightened her belly.

At this point, it was reek of desperation or face her solitary existence and fret over how permanent it might or might not be. “Look, all I need is a warm body,” she added, not realizing how it’d sound until he looked her up and down.

“For the, uh…” If she waved a hand to cool her face, she’d give herself away, as well as add fuel to his already bloated ego. “The activities. While yes, it is a bonus that your body is…”

Well, she walked right into that awkward wall, so there wasn’t much else to do besides charge on through. “Good at physical activities. And I’m sure you’ve got a lot of stamina, too.”

Oh my God, that’s not any better.

“You’re adept enough for what I need, anyway—you know what I’m saying.” She smoothed a hand over her hair, not because the humidity had turned the waves to frizz—although it absolutely had—but to summon her sensibilities. Did people turn into their distant southern ancestors when they crossed a certain longitude in the United States, or was it just her?

One of Easton’s dark eyebrows winged so high it disappeared under the brim of his hat. “Adept, huh? Considering you wrapped your entire body around mine earlier on the dock, I’d say it’s a little more than that.”

“Yeah, you’re also the most frustrating person I’ve ever met.”

Gator climbed into Imogen’s lap, inserting herself into the conversation and appearing concerned that Mommy and Daddy were fighting—totally rhetorical and metaphorical, and seriously, what was with her own thoughts trying to sabotage her today?

Imogen adopted a singsong tone meant to calm the dog and rile the man. “As I mentioned back on the dock, if there were a single other solitary soul around to ask, I would’ve. Since you’re it, I’ll just try to be grateful that if I do snap and need to bury a body today, the woods are so conveniently located. With youandthe nearest law enforcement officer missing, that gives me extra time to make my escape.”

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