Page 85 of Wild Eyes
“Cool,” Ollie says as he pulls out a chair for himself. “Can we invite Skylar?”
I almost drop the sandwich on the floor as I go to transfer it to the plate. “Fishing?”
He shrugs, and his lips tug up. “Yeah. She must be lonely in the bunkhouse.”
“I doubt she has a license.” My heart thuds like I’m a teenager about to get busted for street racing all over again.
“I can fill out an application for her. It’s easy.”
Emmy stomps down the stairs into the kitchen, her temper somewhat subdued. “I wanna be the one who clubs the fish when we catch it. I need to hit something,” she grumbles as she approaches the table—a monster drawn out of her lair by the smell of food.
“You scare me” is all I say, plating the food and setting it in front of them.
While we eat, I work up the courage to go knock on Skylar’s door to ask if she wants to come fishing with us.
An hour later, my misfits and I roll up to the bunkhouse and find Skylar sitting on the front porch. It seems cleaner, like she swept and wiped things down. She looks bright and well rested, her hair falling in wild waves around her face.
“Coach Thick Thighs!” The evil bird announces me from her shoulder, and it makes Skylar’s cheeks turn pink. Her eyes flick to the side as though the parrot will pick up on the accusation in her expression.
“What does that me?—”
“Wanna come fishing?” I cut Emmy off with our invite, lifting the tackle box in my hand.
Skylar’s eyes go wide as they flit to mine. “In what?”
“Our canoe,” Emmy provides, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
The pink glow of Skylar’s cheeks creeps down her throat and over her chest as her eyes meet mine.
“Please?” Ollie asks quietly, and I try not to double take. The kid who never talks to someone new is out here showing off with one-word sentences.
I don’t miss the way Skylar’s body softens as she watches him.
He keeps his eyes trained on the ground and kicks at a rock as he adds a mumbled, “I got you a license and everything.”
Cherry bobs eagerly on Skylar’s shoulder, as though the motion could urge her up out of her seat.
“I didn’t know you needed a license to fish,” she ventures carefully.
Emmy lets out a little scoff before turning to me dramatically. “It’s amateur hour over here.”
I ignore Emmy. “Yeah, fishing, hunting…bear petting. All licensed activities.”
“Bear petting?” the kids ask at once.
Skylar narrows her eyes at me. “He’s joking. But yes, sure. I’ll come.”
I watch my children’s body language change. Oliver straightens his lips, tipping them up in a shy smile. Emmy is less subdued, letting out a loud whoop and shooting her fist up in the air as though this win makes up for the morning’s loss.
They’re both already heading down to the water when Skylar asks, “Is there room on the canoe for all of us?”
“We can?—”
“If there’s not, you can always sit on my dad’s lap,” Emmy cuts me off, shouting back.
All traces of pink on Skylar’s skin blaze red now. I doubt I’m any better. I feel like a fucking kid blushing over his crush.
Still, I cover a laugh and meet Skylar’s stunned gaze. “Kids, man” is all I offer with a shrug as I turn away. I wave my hand over my shoulder, urging her to follow.
