Page 53 of No One Wants That (Blitzen Bay)

BUTCH

“Alpha!”

We all turn around and look toward the mega-raft that’s floated a couple hundred yards away from us. In the almost two hours since the ladies set sail, we haven’t heard much from them except a round of giggling every now and then.

“Did someone yell alpha?” I say, jerking my fishing pole up as I get another bite.

“Yeah,” Nash says, sighing. “Kit. That’s her call when she needs help.”

I look back at the raft again as I reel up another bass. “She needs help?”

“Not emergency help,” he says. “More like—I’m an independent woman, but I still need you to open this jar—help. They probably want to be towed back in. I’ll swim out and get them.”

“Seriously,” I say, throwing the fish into the keeper bucket. “You’ve got two SEALs here, but you think the Ranger is the one to do the swimming.”

“I can swim.”

Alex whacks Nash’s arm. “Man, don’t bother. They take this swimming prowess thing seriously.”

“Fine. You can go,” Nash says. “It’ll give me time to catch up to your fish count. I think I’m a few behind.”

“More than a few, brother,” I say, patting his back. “And you haven’t caught any catfish yet.”

“Hank and I come out here once a week and neither of us has caught a catfish in months.” He lifts the lid on the bucket to look at the fish. “I don’t understand how you’re doing it. How many catfish do you have now? Three?”

“You’ve got to talk to the fish, Nash,” I say. “Let them know what you need. They’ll listen.”

Alex laughs. “Well at least someone listens to you.”

“Alph-a-a-a!”

“You or me?” I say, looking over at Mason.

“I swam the bottle of wine out to them,” he says. “You’re up.”

“I’m on it,” I say, grabbing the end of the boat’s mooring line. “Mase, I’ll push if you pull.”

“Yep. Just let me know when you’re locked,” Mason says as I dive in.

When I get to the raft, I shake it a few times to try to rouse the sunbathers.

“It’s about time,” Kit says without looking up.

“You called for an alpha and I’m here.”

She bolts up and looks down at me. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were Nash.”

“Never apologize for trading up,” I say, grinning at her. She looks away quickly.

“Do you need help towing us back in?” Millie says, stretching her arms above her head and letting out a long yawn. “I can get in and swim.”

“No. Grab the rope. Mason’s going to pull you back in.” I hand her the rope. “You ready?”

“Yep,” she says, grabbing it with both hands.

When I whistle, the rope tugs and the raft starts moving.

“Here, I’ll lighten the load for him,” I say, reaching up and pulling Kit off the raft.

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