Page 130 of Some Like It Scot
He demonstrated the action with his own rod, and it looked a whole lot prettier than what I’d tried to do off-screen. I should have brought Graeme and Lachlan on this assignment. They loved fishing.
I, however, loved the idea of fishing more than the actual action. Especially when it involved finesse.
“Keep the line as straight as possible as you move it from behind to the front with your aim on the fish you have in your sights.”
I attempted to replicate his movements, only to have the line fall kerplunk at my feet.
“You need to strengthen your wrist a little, Katie,” Joe said. “You don’t want a noodle wrist.”
I looked in the camera. “Save the noodles for your spaghetti, folks.”
“And make sure the rod doesn’t go too far behind you or too far in front.” He adjusted my hands. “That’s a better grip. Now tuck any of your slack under your finger.” He nodded, glancing over my head for a second before continuing. “Ready to try again?”
“Sure am!” I looked back at the camera. “Because I’m sure everyone is waiting withbaitedbreath.”
Joe rolled his eyes with impressive dexterity.
“Okay, let’s practice again.” And with my usual excitement, I swung the rod back and forward as practice, heeding his ten o’clock–two o’clock rule... or at least I tried. The line made it a little farther this time.
Joe looked just over my head again, his grin broadening ever so slightly.
“You know, I think you need to lean back a little this time.”
“Lean back?”
Third time’s a charm? And so I did, but the line must have gone too far back because it snagged on something. (This was not the first time I’d caught a tree today.) “Um, Joe, I think I leaned so far back I caught another tree.”
He shook his head, grin perched beneath his mustache. “You didn’t catch a tree.”
Oh dear! What did he mean? (Please say it doesn’t require stitches!)
I turned and a laugh burst out of me. Along the tree line with Lachlan by his side stood Graeme MacKerrow, my line in one hand and a large box cradled in the other.
“Oh my goodness!” I called, dropping my rod and laughing again. “Best catch of the day.”
Lachlan’s giggle hit me in the heart. For the past ten months, Mull had become my home base as I continued my travels, and I’d only fallen more in love with Graeme, the MacKerrows, and Scotland every day. Dropping my assignments to one a month helped a lot, because it had given me time to work on my book series, since Calum’s publishing house offered me a contract only a month after he’d sent in the story. Dave celebrated my new love for home by giving me the editorial position he’d always planned. And it worked. All of it. Mull, my job, and my loves.
Graeme and Lachlan met me halfway across the rocky river beach line, Graeme looking delicious in his jeans and sweater. I glanced down at my waders, jeans, and rain jacket, and wondered how in the world he could still be attracted to me. Praise God, he had some sort of hero complex, because I certainly kept him fulfilled.
“I thought you guys weren’t joining me for a few days yet. I still have some filming to do before we go to your art show in Vancouver.”
“It couldnae hurt to show up a few days early to see you.” Graeme slid his free arm around me and touched his lips to mine for a quick embrace. “Besides, I’d like to try my hand at fly-fishing. What about you, lad?”
“I’m always ready for fishing.”
I grinned at my men and waved back toward Joe. “You know folks will love to see you on my videos. They always do.” I started to walk back when the box in Graeme’s arms caught my attention. “Did you bring some of your sculptures out here to show Joe? Because I know he’d love to see them. Especially your small birds. He’s a fan.”
Graeme shook his head and shifted the box nearer. “This is actually for you, lass.”
The word from his lips never got old. Or stopped sending sweet tingles down my neck in welcome. “For me?” I searched his face, but his expression gave away nothing. So I looked down at Lachlan. His expression was positively impish.
“What are you guys up to?” I narrowed my eyes and gave them another once-over.
“A surprise.” Graeme wiggled his brows and offered the box. “One of the best.”
After taking another look at each of their suspicious faces, I lifted the top off the box as Graeme held it. And then I gasped so big, I started coughing.
My book cover forKatie on the Fly: An Egypt Adventurestared back at me.
