The Naked Fisherman by Jewel E. Ann

Chapter Nineteen

“Hey!Oh my gosh. I wasn’t expecting you today.” I knew something was up when the basement door wasn’t locked.

Rory glanced up from the kitchen counter where her hands furiously chopped vegetables. “Surprise. I got an earlier flight. And since I wanted it to be a true surprise, I grabbed an Uber home. I didn’t even tell Fisher I was coming home today … until about five minutes ago. I just texted him. I’m making dinner for the three of us.”

The three of us.

Lovely.

“He said you had just left the office. So … sit.” She nodded toward the barstool. “Tell me everything. I want to know everything you’ve been up to while I’ve been in California.” With a knife in one hand she used her other arm to give me a side hug and kiss on my head.

She didn’t want to know what I’d been up to.

“Just working.” I climbed onto the stool and rested my crossed arms on the counter. “I work in the office with Hailey some days and other days I go to job sites with Fisher. Church on Sundays. Evening walks. Crossword puzzles.”

“Crossword puzzles? You like them?”

I nodded.

“Your dad did too.”

“I know. That’s why I construct them.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re constructing them?”

Another nod.

“Oh, Reese … your dad would be so proud.”

“I think so too. It makes me feel close to him.”

“Well, you’ll have to let me see them. I used to try to solve your dad’s, but I was terrible at it.”

“How was California?”

“Amazing. More than amazing! I feel all energized with fun new skills and techniques to use on clients. I go back to work tomorrow. I was thinking we need to get you a car.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that too. Fisher gives me a ride some days, but other days, like today, I drive into the office by myself.”

“I can ask my parents—your grandparents—for some help to get you a car.”

“I can afford a car.”

Rory gave me a fake smile of recognition. “Of course. Your dad left you money.”

“Yeah. I was going to look for one right away, but then you left, and I had your car to drive, so there wasn’t the urgency. I should go look for one tomorrow. I’ll ask Fisher for—”

“Ask Fisher for what?” Fisher said, coming down the stairs.

“Hey, there’s my handsome guy.” Rory dropped her knife, wiped her hands, and hugged Fisher.

I wondered why she wasn’t interested in him. Clearly, she liked him. Maybe the age thing bothered her more than it bothered me.

Fisher sat right next to me. He could have chosen a different stool or even scooted that stool over a few inches, but he didn’t. “What do you need to ask me?” He rested his arms on the counter and nudged my elbow. It was so … weird.

Dare I say it was brotherly?

“I need to buy a car.”

“And you need to borrow money? How much do you need?”

I shook my head. “No. I have money. I need time off tomorrow to go get a car.”

“You taking her?” He glanced up at Rory.

“Not tomorrow. I have to work. I can see about getting off early on Saturday and taking her.”

“Why does anyone have to take me? I’ll get an Uber and drive my new car home.”

Fisher’s eyebrows slid up an inch.

“She has money from her dad. She’s going to pay cash for it.”

He nodded slowly. “What car are you getting?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

“I don’t need you to go with me.”

“Oh …” Rory wiped her hands again and picked up her phone. “I have to get this it’s … a friend. I’ll be right back.”

I squinted at her odd behavior while she hustled to her bedroom and shut the door.

“I realize this is going to piss you off, but it’s just life right now. If you take me with you, you’ll get a better deal on a car because there will be a male adult negotiating for you.”

“That’s—”

“Sexist? Not fair? Ridiculous? Yes. Yes, it is. But it doesn’t make it less true.”

“You have work.”

He grabbed my stool and turned me to face him, my knees tucked between his spread legs. “I know the boss. I can get the morning off.” He rested his hands on my legs.

I made a quick glance at the closed bedroom door.

“She’ll be in there for a while.”

I turned back toward Fisher. “How do you know?”

“Because she’s talking to Rose.”

“Who’s Rose?”

“Her friend.”

“Were they in prison together?”

Fisher inched his head side to side.

“Oh. Do they work together?”

“Rose is a teacher. She teaches middle school art.”

I nodded, twisting my lips. “She’s probably a client.”

“Yeah, Rory does her hair.”

“Once a social butterfly, always a social butterfly. I’m more introverted like my dad.” When I allowed myself to look at Fisher for more than two seconds, I realized he was looking at me. It was that more than friends look.

“I wonder how long it will take before I no longer want to kiss you.”

Again, I checked her bedroom door while pressing my lips together. “Y-you want to kiss me?”

He grinned while squeezing my legs. “Desperately.”

I don’t know why I thought Fisher had everything on a switch, including his emotions or his attraction to me, but I did. I thought it. I relied on it.

“We’re done. Right?” I punctuated the right with serious doubt like I really needed him to answer me because I wasn’t sure where any of this was coming from.

“I think that was the agreement.”

That wasn’t an answer. He threw it back on me. I was the one who first said things would have to end when Rory came home. I said I didn’t want her to know about us, but he agreed.

He. Agreed!

“Yeah. It was the mutual agreement.” I rested my hands on his hands to slide them off my legs, but when my skin touched his, it wasn’t that easy.

“How’s that leak in the back room?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Should we check?”

Fisher grinned and slid off his stool. I followed him to the back room.

Door closed.

His hands in my hair.

My hands up the back of his shirt, fingers digging into his skin.

Our mouths colliding.

Tongues exploring.

My hum mixed with his hum, vibrating our lips.

We didn’t have an official last kiss, so who could blame us for needing to officially end things … with a mind-numbing kiss.

“Reese? Fisher?”

We jumped apart, breathless and a little disheveled.

“Where’d you guys go?”

Fisher ran a hand through his hair, even though it wasn’t his hair that got manhandled and tangled.

I wiped my mouth and combed my fingers through my hair as he grinned and shot me a quick wink before opening the door.

Fisher and his winks.

“Back here. Reese thought she’d been hearing some dripping noise in the back room, but I think it’s just condensation from the furnace.”

“Oh. Yeah, probably.” Rory lifted the cutting board full of cut veggies and dumped it into a wok.

“Who’s Rose?” I asked. “Fisher said you have a friend who’s an art teacher. How did you meet her?” I hopped back onto the chair as he walked behind me to join my mom in the kitchen, but not before letting his fingers tease the skin on my lower back where my shirt had slid up just above the waistband of my jeans.

I jerked, but Rory didn’t seem to notice.

“Rose. Um …” Rory shot Fisher a funny look. Did she see him touch me? “I’ve actually known her for many years. She was a client of mine when I owned my salon in Nebraska.”

“Wow. Really? That’s cool. And now she lives here too and is seeing you again?”

Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Nice.”

“Very nice.” Fisher stole a sliced carrot from the wok, and Rory smacked his hand.

“How have the two of you been getting along?” she asked.

I cut my gaze straight to Fisher, but he didn’t give a single glance in my direction. No. He was too cool to act guilty in the slightest way.

“Fine. She’s a bit of a handful at work. We’ve made a trip to urgent care for a nail in her hand as a result of her clumsiness, and she got it in her head that Happy Meals were a good idea for my crew, but other than that … it’s been pretty uneventful.”

It took me a minute to unpack his insane summary of our time together.

“You went to urgent care? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged. “It was no big deal. No stitches.”

Rory blinked several times and nodded. Then, she smiled. “Happy Meals?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a gigantic deal.” Fisher ruffled my hair.

Ruffled my hair!

Like I was five. What the heck?

“Your daughter carried on your collection while you were in prison. How sweet is that?” He climbed onto the stool next to me.

I ignored him.

“Really? Oh, Reese …” Tears filled her eyes.

“It’s no big deal. And I’m sure I missed plenty of items. It’s like making a few crossword puzzles after Dad died.”

“A few?” Fisher opened his big, dumb mouth. “More like an entire book full of them.”

With a tight smile, I shot him an evil glare.

Rory added a bunch of seasonings to the wok filled with veggies and chicken. “You are the sweetest girl.”

I didn’t respond with more than a small grin.

“Have you met anyone at church? Any nice boys?”

Fisher rested his elbow on the counter and his head in his hand, staring at the side of my face like he was waiting anxiously for my response—taking his “extra-ness” to a whole new level.

“I did, actually. His name is Brendon. He’s twenty-four, and he just graduated from law school. We had lunch and played pool here. We’re planning on doing something again this Sunday.” I narrowed my eyes and shot Fisher another glare—a “take that, you obnoxious jerk!”

He focused solely on my lips while wetting his.

Why did he always one-up me?

“Sweetheart, I’m so happy for you. Sounds like quite the catch. A lawyer.”

“He is quite the catch.” I kicked Fisher in the shin because he was mocking me with his overtly enthusiastic gestures while I talked to Rory.

“He’s not the best pool player,” Fisher said, pinching the hell out of my leg just above my knee.

I had to bite my lower lip to keep from yelping. “You never saw him play,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I saw him holding the pool stick. Total amateur.”

All I could think was … “Who are you?”

Really, Fisher was so so much extra. Was he jealous? Or was he just trying to pester me, poke the bear? Treat me like a child?

“I knew it.” Rory shook her head while stirring dinner. “I knew you two would end up acting like brother and sister.”

My stomach turned.

Fisher? He seemed amused.

Gross.

“Let’s eat out on the screened-in porch.” She spooned stir fry onto three plates and slid two toward us. “Grab whatever you want to drink. Fisher, if you want beer, you’ll have to get your own. I didn’t get any before I left since Reese won’t drink it …” She walked by me and bopped my nose. “Because she’s not twenty-one, and I know she’s not a drinker.”

She stepped out onto the screened-in porch, and I followed her with Fisher right behind me.

“You sure have her fooled. You drink and give a killer hand job. But we’ll keep that between us.”

I whipped around, nearly sending my dinner flying off my plate. “I didn’t give you a hand job,” I whispered.

“Oh, Reese … you’re just adorable. Really.”

I narrowed my eyes and growled, taking a page from his playbook.

Fisher glanced over my shoulder, probably seeing if Rory was watching us. “If you growl at me, I’ll bite your ass again …” His gaze cut to me. “And you’ll like it.”

“I will not like it.” I turned back around.

Fisher’s face landed right next to my ear. “You will if I tie you up first.”

My back came to attention as I choked on a little saliva.

What the heck? Tie me up? Who does that?

“What are you two talking about?” Rory eyed us suspiciously as we stepped out onto the porch.

“Just sibling stuff.” Fisher grinned while taking a seat.

I chose the chair in the opposite corner of the porch as Fisher sat on the sectional.

“Rose wants to go to a jazz club Friday. Why don’t you come, Fisher? She’s bringing another friend. A single friend who happens to be an interior designer. Rose thinks she’s a good match for you. What do you say?”

“I like jazz,” I said.

Rory frowned. “Oh, sorry, sweetheart. You have to be twenty-one to get into the club.”

I focused on my plate of food, stirring it with my fork, waiting for it to cool down … waiting for me to cool down.

“Sounds fun. Count me in.”

My head snapped up, shooting my gaze right to Fisher. He chewed slowly, giving me a challenging look.

For the rest of dinner, I stay quiet, letting Fisher and Rory catch up.

“I’m going to my room to read before I go to bed. Thanks for dinner.” I headed toward the door.

“Okay. Sweet dreams, love,” Rory said.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Fisher leaned back on the sectional, stretching both arms across the back.

I wanted to kill him. He excelled at bringing out the worst in me. Why did I find him the least bit attractive?