Page 25 of Small Town Shy Omega
Fishing was magical, I thought. I didn’t have the patience to sit with a pole, but I had respect for everyone who could.
“Wanna try?” Blake shot me a look.
Growing shy, I shook my head. “I wouldn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Might not catch anything,” I muttered, shrugging my shoulders. Might make a fool of myself, embarrass myself horribly.
“And is that so bad?”
My eyes lifted to Blake’s. “Wouldn’t want to make a fool out of myself,” I heard myself mumble, then I shrugged. “In front of you.”
“Why would I care if you acted a little foolish, Layla?” And Blake brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. He evenadjusted my glasses. “And rather, why is not catching a fish considered foolish?”
“Dunno.” Now I felt silly.
“Maybe catching the fish is foolish,” Blake suggested, mulling this. “I mean, all we do is toss them back… If we ate them it’d be different.”
Blake handed me his pole.
I cast a fishing pole for the first time since I fished with Grandpa.
My hook soared through the air, the line glistening behind it. It splashed in the water, though I received no nibbles.
“See?” I said as we watched the little waves come to shore. “Nothing.”
“Not nothing,” Blake muttered, his breath ghosting on my cheek. I didn’t know what he meant… but then I thought about it, and I figured it out.
It dawned on me when I returned to my nest that night, after processing his words.
Blake hadn’t been talking about the fish. He’d been talking about us, whatwecaught as we sat there, catching nothing.
I replayed the feel of his big rod in my hands, feeling how firm and strong it was. I replayed the sound the lure and hook made sinking under the water, the little waves fanning out.
Nothing beat it, I realized, my cheek pressed against a snug pillow. My nest was so cozy, but I really desired to be back on that lakeshore. Sitting beside Blake, his fishing pole in my hands.
Josh was shirtless,water flying from the hose. I couldn’t believe he’d washed my entire car before I woke up, but it was nice not to have dust on it.
“Fresh bacon muffins,” Josh growled, sounding like a caveman as he turned the water off. “I can smell Dreydon’s breakfast coming out of the oven.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, setting my keys on my car roof as I headed inside.
Josh was right that breakfast was ready to eat, the smell of bacon muffins strong in the air.
I went to the kitchen, and Dreydon was busy helping himself to some muffins.
“Mmmmm,” Dreydon growled, sinking his teeth into a muffin. “Delicious, Layla.”
“Oh, they look great,” and a laugh slipped from me.
Dreydon waggled his eyebrows, sliding a cup my way. “You drink coffee?”
My hands went to my hips.
“Are you asking if I’m old enough, mister? It sounds like you are.”
Dreydon let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “No, ma’am. I know you’re twenty-seven, perfectly capable of drinking coffee. Still…”
