Page 49 of Catch
“Dinner can wait,” she leaned up and kissed me. “I need you to clean me up first.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
LOXLEY
Miles saidfishing was supposed to be relaxing. He lied.
I was sitting in the middle of his bass boat, wearing an oversized life jacket that made me look like a marshmallow, and holding a fishing rod that felt like a medieval weapon. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and Miles looked like he belonged on the cover of an outdoor magazine with his baseball cap pulled low, sunglasses reflecting the calm lake water, and that stupidly perfect smirk on his face.
“Okay, Lox,” he said, crouching down beside me to adjust my grip on the fishing rod. “You just flick your wrist like this, and the line will go flying out into the water. Easy.”
“Easy for you. Last time I tried to cast, the worm flew off and hit that guy on the dock.”
Miles laughed, the kind of laugh that made my insides feel all squishy and warm. “He’ll live. Just try again.”
With a deep breath, I followed his instructions, flicking my wrist and sending the line soaring into the lake. Or so I thought. The hook caught on something behind me, jerking the rod backward.
“What the?—”
“Hold on!” Miles lunged past me, untangling the line from the back of my life jacket. “You almost caught yourself, baby.”
“I’m a natural,” I deadpanned, my cheeks burning as he freed the line and reset it for me. He kissed the top of my head before stepping back to his spot near the motor.
“Alright, give it another go. And this time, maybe aim for the water instead of… yourself.”
Rolling my eyes, I tried again. Miraculously, the line arced out into the lake and landed with a satisfying plop. Miles let out a low whistle. “There you go! Now, we wait.”
“Wait for what?” I asked, propping the rod awkwardly against my knee.
“For a fish to bite,” he said, settling onto the bench beside me. His arm draped over my shoulders, pulling me close. “Patience is key in fishing.”
“Patience,” I muttered. “Got it.”
Five minutes in, I was already over it. The lake was quiet, the kind of quiet that made my thoughts get too loud. I shifted in my seat, tapping my fingers against the rod and glancing at Miles, who looked like he could do this all day.
“This is… nice,” I said, trying to sound convincing.
Miles turned to me with a knowing grin. “You’re bored out of your mind, aren’t you?”
“No,” I lied, my voice going up an octave. “This is great. So peaceful. Exactly what I was hoping for.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer. Despite the fact that fishing was clearly not for me, I did find a little satisfaction in sitting there with Miles. The sun was warm on my skin, the gentle rocking of the boat was oddly soothing, and having Miles’s arm around me made everything feel… right.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against my shoulder.
“Me too,” I replied, tilting my head to look at him. His face was close, too close, and my breath hitched as he leaned in. The world seemed to pause as his lips brushed mine, the kiss slow and tender, making my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fishing.
Every ounce of me wanted to tell him it was time to go home. We had spent all night making love in every room of his house and it still didn’t feel like enough. I wanted more. It felt like I’d always want more.
I was just about to suggest we call it a day when the rod in my hands jerked, and Miles and I pulled back from one another to see what was happening.
“You’ve got a fish!” Miles shouted, springing into action. “Reel it in! Keep the line tight!”
Panic set in as I tried to remember what he’d taught me. I cranked the reel awkwardly, the rod bending alarmingly as the fish fought back. “It’s too strong!”
“You’ve got this,” Miles encouraged, hovering beside me. “Don’t let it win!”
“I’m trying!” I shouted, the reel slipping in my sweaty hands. The fish was putting up a fight, and I was losing.
