The Naked Fisherman by Jewel E. Ann

Chapter Twelve

I didn’t sleepthat night. I tried, but I couldn’t sleep after that kiss. Well, those two kisses. It took too long to figure out why he did it. And I never came up with a good explanation.

My trek around the house to the garage was the longest walk of my life. I couldn’t breathe. It was eerily similar to how I felt the previous night. Would he be different with me? Regretful? Act like it never happened? Kiss me again?

I crossed my fingers for the third kiss. Which was why I brushed twice, flossed, and rinsed with mouthwash for a full minute. Just as I rounded the corner to an empty driveway, my phone chimed.

Fisher: You’re with Hailey today. Had to go out of town to pick up some things.

Not even a “good morning.” No XO. And not a single emoji. Did he not know how to use emojis? It was the most emotionless, lackluster text ever. It wasn’t the text you sent someone you’d kissed.

I typed my reply a dozen times and erased all of them. My drafts contained words like “good morning” and emojis. Hearts and kisses. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was another cruel lesson.

Reese: OK

As heartbroken as I was to be just as emotionless, I felt a sense of pride and maybe even a sense of maturity for keeping it professional. When I got to the office with my burning tongue (a minute of swishing mouthwash was a lot), Hailey greeted me with her usual bubbly smile and a stack of things to sort through. I got the feeling nothing had been sorted until Fisher hired me.

“Is it the weekend yet? Why did Monday feel like the longest day ever? It should be Thursday not Tuesday.”

“Mondays aren’t always bad.” I shrugged, depositing my backpack on the floor and grabbing coffee.

“Are you …” She tilted her head. “Blushing?”

“No.” I dipped my chin and dove into the messy piles of papers.

“You are. Did you have a hot date last night? A Monday date?”

“No.” I laughed like it was ridiculous. “No date.”

“Okay then. I noticed you left the party early. But so did Bossman and his new girlfriend. She was all over him. I imagine he had quite the Friday night. Was he in a good mood yesterday morning?”

“Um …” I tried to sound as aloof as possible. “Yeah, he seemed fine.”

“Did he mention her? Is it serious? This time of year, I only get to see him for a few seconds a day, at the most. He’s always on the go and constantly running thirty minutes behind.”

“He didn’t mention her. I don’t think it’s serious, but I’m not really sure.”

“Why do you think it’s not serious? Did he say something?”

“No. Just a feeling. I’m not sure. Maybe guys don’t say much even if they do have serious feelings about someone. Like … they probably don’t send gushing texts or use a bunch of emojis.”

“Ha! Not my ex. He sent me the dirtiest texts all the time with a string of eggplant and peach emojis. I bet Bossman sends her dirty texts. I can see him having a dirty side.”

Hailey wasn’t helping my emotional situation one bit. Was he sending Teagan texts? Were they still together? Did he play me? The more I thought about it, I felt so played by him. He and Teagan were having a good laugh over my foolishness.

I spent the better part of my day silently fuming while sorting and alphabetizing invoices and receipts. Even the lunch Hailey brought me was left half-uneaten because I couldn’t stomach it and the very real possibility that I was a pawn.

“I’m taking off,” I said after placing the last sorted pile into the file box.

“Okay. Have a good night. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Who knows. I never seem to know myself until the last possible minute.”

“Sounds about right.” Hailey laughed as I pushed through the door.

On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store and grabbed a few essentials. Then I made the short drive home, parking across the street just as Fisher pulled into the driveway on his motorcycle with a woman on the back.

Unbelievable.

My heart deflated as a cynical voice in my head laughed at me. I grabbed my two bags of groceries from the back and marched past the driveway to the path leading down the hill, not giving a single glance in the direction of Fisher and the dark blonde as they removed their helmets.

“Reese?” he called.

I walked faster.

“Reese?” His voice and the rest of his terrible self followed me.

I unlocked the door and picked up the bags, continuing into the basement like I didn’t hear him or see him. Then I told myself not to cry. I even prayed for my tears to stay in check. Crying after one kiss (well, two) was something an eighteen-year-old virgin would do. And even if that was me, I wasn’t offering that version to Fisher. Not anymore. He couldn’t be trusted with my heart. I wouldn’t have trusted him to hold my kite string on a breezy day.

“Why do you make me chase you?”

I hoisted the bags onto the counter and released a slow breath while plastering on a fake smile as I turned toward him. “The question is … why are you always chasing me? I’m just the girl living in your basement. The employee you see several times a week. Seems silly that you’re even giving me the time of day right now when you have some blonde waiting for you to … I don’t know …” Shrugging, I tapped my chin. “Kiss her. Or do more than that.”

Resting one hand on his hip and his other hand rubbing the back of his neck, he eyed me with no regret. “Are you done?”

My frown deepened. “Yes.”

“I’m not going to kiss the blonde because she’s my sister, so that would be weird. Occasionally, she likes to ride with me. That’s her red Honda you parked next to.”

After processing his explanation, I shrugged. “What about Teagan?”

“What about her?” He unzipped his jacket.

“Are you still with her?”

A slow grin made its way up his face as he shook his head. “I’m not sure I was ever ‘with’ her, but she’s not okay being ‘with’ me since you were in my bathtub.”

Was I a consolation prize? Since the beautiful doctor didn’t want to be with him, he got the naked girl in his bathtub? Was I even that? I felt certain he’d had sex with her, yet he didn’t think they were together? What could a simple kiss possibly have meant to him?

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have taken a bath in your tub.” Pivoting, I unloaded my groceries.

“I disagree. I gave you permission. I’m still giving you permission. Do you want to take a bath? Right now?”

Couldn’t he let me be mad for a few seconds? No.

Releasing an unavoidable laugh, I shook my head while closing the fridge. “I don’t want or need a bath right now. And where’s your sister?”

“She had to leave.” He slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the sectional.

I folded the paper bags, eyeing his moves as he made his way to me. A wall of shields lifted around my heart as an inner voice chanted, No. No. No.

“Did you get a lot of work done today?” He gripped my waist, and my hands flew to his shoulders because I wasn’t sure what he was doing. Then he lifted me onto the counter and stepped into the space between my spread legs.

Just like the previous night, everything in my body kicked into overdrive. “I …” Swallowing hard, I gave him a nervous smile. “I sorted and filed today.”

“That’s good.” He brushed my hair away from my shoulders and dipped his face into my neck.

I stiffened feeling the warmth of his breath spread along my skin. My hands slid from his shoulders to his hair, searching for control. If I didn’t want him to kiss my neck, I could have yanked him away.

But I did.

I wanted to be kissed where I’d never been kissed before. Boys had kissed me, but I’d never made out with anyone. No kisses on my neck. No hickeys.

Two things happened at the exact same time, and I didn’t know where to give my attention because they both set me ablaze and out of my mind. Fisher’s hands shifted from my hips to my legs, his thumbs pressing on my inner thighs really close to my crotch as his lips pressed to my neck for only a second before he licked … he licked a path to my ear.

A sharp, audible gasp left my parted lips just as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth and released it a second later by dragging his teeth along it. All the weird things happened at once.

Heat in my cheeks worked its way down to everywhere.

Pressure built between my legs.

I swear it felt like I’d peed a little, but I knew better.

Heaviness in my breasts.

Even my nipples felt different—sensitive as they pressed against the fabric of my bra.

Copious amounts of saliva required constant swallowing to keep from drooling. I was afraid to be touched anymore yet needed to be touched. It was so foreign and impossible to articulate even to myself.

My grip on his hair tightened which made him chuckle, kissing along my jaw. I didn’t find anything funny. I was crawling out of my skin in the most wicked way.

“F-Fisher …” I closed my eyes because everything he did made the room spin.

When his mouth covered mine, he didn’t kiss me slowly like the first time. He kissed me like I’d always imagined a man kissing a woman.

This time he teased my lips with his tongue, tasting me like he’d tasted my neck and my ear. Then he kissed me hard again, and the foreign invasion of his tongue sliding deep into my mouth … well … I liked it.

So much.

Too much.

It felt sinful, but I didn’t want him to stop.

For a few seconds, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with my tongue, but he showed me. Teased it. Teased me. And of all the lessons Fisher had tried to teach me up until that point, kissing was my favorite.

I was a good student. An eager student.

Then my phone rang, and I jumped, tearing myself away from him. I fished it out of my purse, a few inches away from where I sat on the counter. “Rory,” I said on a labored breath while I stared at the screen.

As I swiped the screen and brought it to my ear, Fisher stepped back, rubbing his well-kissed lips together while …

Oh my gosh!

He adjusted himself, and it gave me a moment’s pause, a little shock. I wasn’t experienced, but I also wasn’t stupid. I knew he was adjusting his erection, but for some reason I still felt a little shocked that kissing me did that to him.

Seeing my shock, he rolled his eyes and murmured, “Don’t look so surprised.”

I swallowed and cleared my throat, a tiny smile (a little triumphant) stole my lips as I found my voice. “Hey!”

“Hi. You sound happy. A good day?” Rory asked.

“Yeah, it was … fine.”

Fisher grabbed his jacket from the sectional and walked up the stairs. No look back. No kisses blown in my direction. I realized it was his way of giving me some privacy, but it was like the text … I wanted the emoji, the wink.

Something!

“I have some good news,” Rory said, bringing me out of my Fisher bubble.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Things are going well here. And I’ll be home early. Next week.”

“That’s … great.”

Rory laughed. “Don’t sound so enthused. I thought you’d be excited. I felt bad leaving right after we reunited after so long. Once I get home, we’ll have all the time we want to do whatever you want. And I have so much to tell you. So many things have been left unsaid for too long.”

I wasn’t sure what that really meant.

“Have you met any friends at church yet? Or work? Hailey is sweet, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, I like her a lot.”

“Any boys at church that have caught your attention?”

“Uh … no.” My face wrinkled. “And let’s call them guys not boys. I’m not dating twelve-year-olds.”

“Sorry. Guys. Young men. And there’s no need to rush into anything. You are so young. Love can be incredibly messy and confusing. Find you first.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Reese, you know what I mean.”

“I actually like working for Fisher.”

“Well, sure. But there’s not a lot of room for advancement unless you’re going to actually learn to build stuff.”

“He’s going to teach me some things.”

“Oh, he is? Like … he’s going to teach you things about construction?”

“I think so. I asked him if he would.”

There was a pause before she replied with a “Huh … okay. He’s a talented guy. I’m sure he’s the best one to teach you things.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

“Hope you’re being smart around his crew. He’s employed a lot of single guys who I’m sure will find you quite appealing, but they need to remember you’re eighteen.”

“Which means I’m an adult.”

She sighs. “Yes, but guys with five to ten years on you are not in your best interest right now unless you meet them at church. Alcohol. Sex. Drugs. I just don’t want you getting in over your head before you reach twenty. I’d love for you to find a group of friends close to your age.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know. I’m not. I’m sure Fisher is keeping a close eye on you whether you like it or not.”

“Yes, he’s … all over me.” I bit my lips together to hide my grin.

“I knew it. I had a feeling he’d be a big brother to you.”

That comparison nauseated me a bit.

“Anyhoo, I’ll let you go. Let’s talk again this weekend when we have more time. Maybe video chat so I can see your beautiful face.”

“Sounds good.”

“Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye.” I slid my phone onto the counter and stared at the staircase leading to him.

I wasn’t sure if my mom’s call was bad timing on her part or good timing on God’s part. And what happened next? Was I supposed to go upstairs to continue what we started? Ending where? In his bed, sans my virginity?

Why did he have to be twenty-eight and my mom’s friend/landlord? Why did he have to be twenty-eight with way more life and sexual experience than me?

I grabbed a pre-made salad from the fridge and ate it with a handful of wheat crackers. Then I changed into jogging shorts, tennis shoes, and a tank top. I assumed Fisher was eating dinner or taking a shower, but as I trekked around to the front of the house, I was proven wrong.

Shorts. No shirt (of course). Bare feet.

He used a hose and spray nozzle to water some plants and flowers by his front door. Shirtless Fisher was not a good idea for me. My body still hadn’t recovered from his hands on my legs, his thumbs dangerously close to the top of my inner thighs.

“Going for a jog?” he asked.

“Walk.” I didn’t stop. Stopping was a bad idea.

“Want company?”

Bad idea.

“Okay.” I turned with a little too much bounce to my step, too much enthusiasm in my voice, and way too big of a grin on my face.

Rory was coming home in one week. And I didn’t know what that would mean for Fisher and me. I wasn’t in his head. I could guess that Rory wouldn’t like the idea of me having a physical relationship with a man ten years older than me. And if I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it either.

Him … I knew how I felt about him, but I couldn’t turn off all common sense, ignore the logistics of our situation. What I wanted and what made sense were not the same things.

“Let me put on some shoes.” He shut off the hose and disappeared into the house via the front door.

When he returned with only shoes, still no shirt, I had a mild panic attack. When he grabbed my hand and grinned, it escalated to a moderate panic attack.

“So Rory’s coming home in a week,” he said as we strolled down the street, my fingers laced with his.

Every new touch brought a new sensation. Holding hands wasn’t kissing, yet it felt equally as intimate. I’d held his hand before, during the storm prayer, but this was different. That was an awkward clasp; this was more.

“Were you eavesdropping?”

He chuckled. “No. She called me after she called you.”

“Oh. Well … what did you say?”

“I said you’d be excited to see her.” He glanced down at me for a second.

“No.” I kept my gaze in front of us. “What did you say about us?”

“I told her you have a fantastic mouth and a silky tongue that tastes like heaven, legs that bring me to my knees, and a truckload of attitude.”

“Oh my gosh …” I stopped and turned toward him, yanking my hand away from his.

He narrowed his eyes. “What? I didn’t tell her about the bathtub incident or that you stole beer from me.”

“Fisher!”

His brow relaxed as that stupid smirk appeared. “Stop being so gullible.”

“Ugh! Jerk!” I hammered my fists into his chest.

He grabbed my wrists and held me to him, held my hands to his chest. “I’m not saying a word to her.”

I stared at his chest as my fists relaxed, as my palms pressed to his firm muscles and tan skin. Another new and intimate feeling. “I … I don’t think …” My gaze inched its way up to meet his. “I don’t want her to know about …”

Rolling his lips together, he nodded several times. “Yeah. I don’t either. She wouldn’t be very happy with me.”

Grunting a laugh, I glanced to the side, “Then what’s the point of this?”

“I don’t know.” His honesty bled through his words. It was a brief moment when I didn’t feel that Fisher was a decade older, a decade more mature, a decade more experienced.

Maybe connecting with someone didn’t have boundaries or timelines. I liked the idea of him feeling as drawn to me as I felt to him. It made me feel like we were equals in this, whatever this was.

“So we just …” I wasn’t sure if the thoughts in my mind reflected my true emotions or if I needed to say them to ease his burden. “We just stop when she gets home. Like it never happened.”

Twisting his lips, he studied me for a few moments before returning a single slow nod. “Like it never happened.”