Page 22 of The Magic of Sea Glass
He shook his head. “I’ve never understood private people. I guess it’s because I’m an open book. I take things as they come.”
“Is that so?” she asked, relieved to have the focus move away from her state of mind. “Okay, if you’re so open and let people in, then why did Mary tell me that you won’t date anyone?”
“What?” Brody laughed and then grabbed one of the fishing rods from the holder, flipping open a large cooler and retrieving the bait. “She said that?”
“Yep.”
“Why, wereyouasking if I dated people?” He bobbed his eyebrows up and down playfully while he baited the hook.
“The conversation was definitely not for myself,” she said, a flutter of amusement tickling her lips against her will. The lighter banter relaxed her a little bit.
“Why did you say ‘definitely’ not?” He handed her the fishing pole.
“Because I’m not in the market for a date.”
“Well, that makes two of us. Need help?”
He walked over to her, ready to put his arms around her to assist her as she cast the rod, but she pulled away.
“I’ve got it.” She flipped the reel open, took a step back and then tossed the bait into the water with one fluid motion, the line whirring out into the small wake.
He eyed her, clearly taking in the ease with which she handled herself. “You’ve done this before.”
“Yes,” she said, her attention on the line. She let out the slack a little, the way Mason had taught her, and then held it steady.
“I thought you hated fishing.”
Lauren didn’t reply.
“Did you grow up fishing with your dad or something?”
“My fiancé taught me,” she replied, trying to keep her voice even. If she didn’t offer him an explanation, he was bound to just keep asking.
“Oh,” he said, baiting his own line, her answer visibly surprising him.
She could tell that he was holding back for her benefit. When his gaze flickered over to her left hand, she knew exactly what he was looking for. But the only jewelry on that arm was her new sea glass bracelet. She’d taken the ring off the day after the funeral, the sight of it too much to bear. It sat in its box in the drawer of her nightstand back home in New York.
Her line suddenly tugged, pulling her toward the edge of the boat. “I’ve got something,” she said.
Brody set his pole against the captain’s seat and moved over to her. “You got it?” This time, he didn’t attempt to assist.
She reeled in the line, the pole bending against the fish’s struggle. “Yes,” she replied, engrossed, winding furiously, giving it everything she had. All on her own, she pulled against it, struggling, until finally the fish lifted above the water.
“It’s a speckled trout,” he said, grabbing the line while the fish flailed about. “It’s a good size.” He took hold of the fish’s body and wriggled the hook free. “Look at you, getting the first catch of the day. Want to kiss him?”
“What?”
He held the fish out to her.
She darted away, making him laugh, and the sound of it took a weight off her shoulders.
“It’s supposed to be good luck.” He held it out once more.
“There’s no such thing as good luck,” she said.
He stared at her for a second, clearly wondering about her comment. “All right,” he said, and she knew by the lift in his forehead that she’d surprised him again. “What do you think? Dinner or let him go?”
“Let him go,” Lauren replied.
