Page 22 of Catch and Release Groom

“Heyyou!Don’t act like you can’t hear me, Easton the Grouch.”

Well, that sealed the deal. Never in a million years would he have given himself such an awful nickname.

“If I have to scream until my throat is raw,” Imogen yelled, not one bit dissuaded by the fact that his back remained to her, “I’ll do it. You know I will.”

He didn’t know any such thing. To prove it, he pitched the mess of fishing gear into the bed of his truck and shut the tailgate with extraoomph.

Gator’s bark pierced the air, and with his furry companion cheering on their departure, Easton yanked open the driver’s side door. “Come on, girl. Get on in.”

Rather than obey, her muzzle swiveled toward the rippling lake and the swan pedal boat that’d completed a sloppy semicircle before bumping up against the dock.

Then Gator went and did what both his ex and Imogen had done to their betrotheds.

She ran, as fast and as far in the opposite direction as she could.

…

Disturbing the peace wasn’t Imogen’s usual MO.

For one, it called far too much attention to herself, which heightened her anxieties about making the wrong decision. The longer she wavered, the more variables leaped into the equation, which greatly reduced her ability to remain in complete control of a situation, and that was another problem in and of itself.

So many facts, so little processing time.

It’d been hard enough for her to sound the distress call, but for Easton to make her repeat it? Her temper flared and fueled her to yell louder.

In the end, his dog responded with the haste she’d hoped to inspire in him. The malamute might not be the “strapping young man” who could “paddle the hell out of a boat,” but odds were high that the other half of the duo would mosey on over eventually.

It’s official. I’m theonlyunattended person here.

Back when Imogen booked the romantic getaway, she’d assumed “the Honeymoon Package” was a bundled incentive at the Cove Lakeside Resort, not the freaking norm. Lulled by the discounted rate and stunning pictures on the website, she’d convinced herself she could easily explain to Brett why she’d sidestepped his wishes and dipped intohersavings. Not for the down payment on a house, as dictated by the life plan he’d made for them three years ago, but a trip that celebrated and cemented their love. One that honored their futuretogether, where they acted as equals.

In that moment, she’d finally felt in control of a situation that’d been rapidly getting away from her, stirring up doubts about getting married that she hadn’t wanted to have.

But it’d only delayed the inevitable. Maybe it was unfair of her to ask, that she not have to grieve the loss of her former life and love,andmiss out on activities when she was the one to say, “I don’t” instead of “I do.”

At least Gator’s arrival on the dock provided a distraction from rehashing how she’d found herself stranded on a lake in the wilderness, alone in a boat meant for two.

Waving down a man who was wearing the hell out of a plaid button-down and blue jeans.

Imogen wobbled as she scooted to the edge of the pedal boat—totally due to the rocking of the water and not said man. With the assistance of the raised dock, the dog’s snout nearly bopped her nose.

“Thank you so much for your assistance with”—despite Easton remaining several yards behind, she lowered her voice—“you-know-who.”

Gator glanced between them as if debating pros and cons.

With all the warmth of a storm cloud and an equally thunderous scowl, the toes of Easton’s boots hit the first wooden plank. Each heavy footstep increased the beating of Imogen’s heart, leading her to do what she did best and second-guess her decisions.

Particularly the one where she’d summoned him.

A wet tongue dragged across Imogen’s cheek, and she drove her fingers through the dog’s thick coat and whispered, “If the other country folk are anything like him, I still don’t understand how they maintain such a friendly reputation. I’ve met more amiable TSA agents at O’Hare.”

“I heard that,” Easton said, his voice gruff, and her pulse shot into the danger zone. Did he have, like, ultrasonic superpowers?

Gator pranced faster on her fixed spot on the dock, and if Imogen had more room, she’d totally do the same. Well, if there wasn’t also the threat of tipping the boat and whatnot.

Naturally, his cantankerous ass would make this more difficult. If experience hadn’t proven she lacked the skills, it’d be so satisfying to wave his own dog into the swan-shaped contraption and peel out across the lake. Maybe even add a cackle as she sailed away.

Although that might land her in dog-napping territory. Then Easton would have to grab those handcuffs from his truck, and…

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