The Naked Fisherman by Jewel E. Ann

Chapter Twenty

The next morning,Rory had coffee and breakfast made for me by the time I dressed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and brushed my teeth.

“You’re up early,” I said.

“I’m a morning person. I didn’t used to be, but that changed.”

In prison.

I nodded. “Thanks.” I took a few sips of coffee and grabbed one of the muffins she made. “Gotta go. I’m sure he’s already waiting for me.” Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I smiled.

“Have a good day. I’ll be home from work around four. If you want, we can grab dinner.”

“We’ll see. We’re supposed to look for a car for me today. So who knows how my day will go?”

“Okay. Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

Sure enough, Fisher was in the truck by the time I made it to the driveway.

“Morning.” He grinned when I opened the door.

I stared at my muffin as I tried to maneuver my bag into the back without squishing the muffin.

“Here.” Fisher leaned over and took the muffin to hold it for me.

I thought about saying “thanks,” but then I remembered I was mad at him for his behavior the previous night.

Tossing my bag in the back, I climbed into the seat and fastened my seat belt.

“Hey!” My mouth fell open as I gasped.

Fisher had eaten half of my muffin.

“You jerk! That was my muffin!” I grabbed his wrist with one hand while trying to pry the rest of the muffin from his grip with my other hand. By the time he softened his grip, the muffin looked like a squished ball of dough.

“Oops …” he stared at the ball in his hand.

“You dumb fucker!” The second that left my mouth, an audible whoosh of air filled my lungs a split second before my cupped hand covered my mouth.

Fisher’s eyes doubled in size as he eased his head to the side like a dog.

I turned away and crossed my arms over my chest. “Just drive.”

Fisher hopped out of the truck. I didn’t care where he was going. I officially didn’t care about him at all. A few minutes later, he returned with another muffin.

“Are we good now?”

I stared at the muffin in his hand. “What did you tell Rory?” I took the muffin and held it because I was no longer hungry.

Fisher put the truck into Drive and pulled out of the driveway. “I told her I took a bite of your muffin. You had a hissy fit and called me a dumb fucker.”

“You what?” I whipped my head back toward him.

“Don’t worry. She didn’t believe me. You have her fooled. You have everyone fooled. Except me. I know you. And you are not the innocent little Christian you pretend to be.”

“Well, you’re not the nice guy everyone thinks you are.”

Fisher shot me a sour expression. “Oh, I’m absolutely the nice guy everyone thinks I am. I’ve been looking out for your immature ass for weeks.”

I scoffed. “You’ve been looking at my butt for weeks, not looking out for it.”

“You must think you have a great ass. What if you’re the only one?”

I started to scoff again, but I caught myself. Nope. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down to his level of cruelty. Once again, he proved how much of a terrible influence he was on me.

My inclination to do what was right.

And my desire to be a kind person.

Fisher granted me some silence, but only for ten minutes. Then he pulled into a car dealership.

“How much are you planning on spending?”

Ugh …

I’d planned on giving him the silent treatment for the better part of the day, but he had to make car shopping our first stop of the day.

“I don’t know. I should probably check with my grandparents. They’ll have to release the money to my account.”

“Well, it would have been smart of you to do that before suggesting we go car shopping.”

I frowned. “I thought it would be smart to know what car I wanted before going to them. They’re going to ask me about the car and how much money I need.”

“Okey dokey.” He pulled into an empty parking space and hopped out of the truck.

I climbed out just as he rounded the front of the truck and held open the door before shutting it behind me and locking it.

He turned, sauntering toward the lot of cars. I leaned my back against the truck door, resting one foot on the running board. A few seconds later, he glanced a foot behind him only to realize I wasn’t there. Then his gaze lifted to me.

Turning, he visibly blew out a long breath.

Yes, Fisher … I don’t always wear socks, and I reserve the right to be upset with you even if you are taking me car shopping.

I maintained my emotionless expression, giving nothing away, yet demanding everything.

His booted feet planted right in front of me as he rested one hand on a hip and tipped his chin toward his chest.

Another sigh.

“Apologize,” I said.

Ever so slowly, he lifted his gaze to me, a tiny grin quirking one side of his mouth. “For?”

“Exactly. I’m glad we agree that you have so much to apologize for.”

“The muffin?”

I nodded.

“I got you a new one.”

“But you didn’t apologize.”

“Actions speak louder than words. I. Got. You. A. New. One.”

“And last night? Your obnoxiousness? You agreeing to go on a date like … ten minutes after sticking your tongue down my throat? Making unnecessary jabs at Brendon, whom you’ve met once, for two seconds. What about that?”

Twisting his lips to the side, he narrowed his eyes. “Do you want a verbal apology? Or do you want a physical one?”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with that offering? A physical one?

“I’m not giving you both. So … choose carefully.”

“Define physical.”

“It’s something I do, instead of something I say.”

“What would you do?”

“I’m not telling you. Just choose.”

It was so ridiculous. Why couldn’t he simply say sorry and go on with the day? And why couldn’t I just choose the verbal apology? Why was I so curious about his physical gesture?

“Am I a toy to you?”

Fisher’s gaze slid down my body and inched its way back up to my face. That answered my question.

“Are you asking if I enjoy playing with you?”

“Are you going to sleep with your Friday night date?”

“And by sleep, you mean?”

“Fisher …”

“Are you going to sleep with your Sunday afternoon date?” He lifted one eyebrow.

“You know that answer.”

Fisher nodded slowly. “I do. But is it because of Jesus or because you gave me a hand job?”

“Are you going to sleep with your date because you have no moral code or because my hand job wasn’t good enough?”

Satisfaction lit up his entire face. “So you do admit it was a hand job.”

“Fisher …”

“Let’s find you a car so we can get to work.” He turned ninety degrees and retraced his original path toward the lot of cars.

I followed with my heart dragging behind me, getting bruised and scraped by the harsh road that was Fisher Mann.

“Hey, looking for anything specific?” the salesman asked.

“Something reliable with good gas mileage,” Fisher spoke for me.

“Something fast,” I said with a serious face.

The salesman gave me a dismissive “hehe” laugh.

“I have a Honda Accord over here. One owner. Sixty-five thousand miles. Good gas mileage. Reliable.”

“I’m thinking about an SUV because I’ll be making a lot of trips into the mountains.”

Again, the salesman gave me a look like I wasn’t the one purchasing the vehicle. “Subaru Outback?”

“Sounds good. Let’s see it,” Fisher said.

I shook my head. “My mom has one. I don’t want the same car.”

“It’s a good car. You can take it into the mountains.” Fisher tried to make a case for the Outback.

“I see you have a Porsche Cayenne at the front of the lot.”

Both men looked at me like I was crazy.

“Um … we do. It has close to forty-thousand miles on it, and it’s fifty-five thousand, but we could probably get you into it for a little less.”

“She’s not looking for a fifty-thousand-dollar vehicle,” Fisher said, walking down the row with the boring Outbacks and Accords.

“She is looking for whatever she wants.” I crossed my arms over my chest and followed him.

“We’ll test drive this one,” Fisher nodded toward a Subaru.

“I don’t want an Outback.”

“It’s a Forester.” He peered inside the window before reading the specifics on the sticker.

“I’ll grab the keys,” the salesman said.

“I needed a ride, not a parent. A ride, not a bully. What is your deal? This is my purchase. My decision.”

He took a break from the sticker to look at me. “Should we call Rory?”

“No.” I tipped up my chin.

“Then we’re test driving the Forester.”

“Fine. But I’m not buying it.”

He eyed the salesman getting closer behind me. “We’re not buying anything today, just test driving.”

“We’re not buying anything ever. I’m buying it.”

“I’ll just need to see your driver’s license, miss.”

I turned and huffed as I dug it out of my wallet.

“You can head north. It’s a nice three-mile loop.”

I took the key without acknowledging his suggestion or Fisher’s satisfied smile.

I wasn’t buying it.

And I wasn’t coming back with Fisher when I did decide to buy a car. Maybe Brendon would come with me. I felt fairly certain an attorney could negotiate a car deal for me just as if not better than Fisher.

“Left,” Fisher said as I pulled to a stop at the lot entrance.

“Shut up.”

I didn’t give him my full attention, but I also didn’t miss his smirk, how much he enjoyed me in my most unruly state.

We drove a mile up the road.

“It’s a nice vehicle.”

I ignored him.

Another mile.

“You could fit four friends and some camping gear in the back. If you have four friends.”

I swerved across three lanes of traffic to an exit.

“Jesus Christ!” He grabbed the dash. “What in the hell are you doing? Trying to get us killed?”

I pulled into the empty parking lot of an elementary school. “Would you just shut up?” I punched the button to my seat belt and climbed out of the vehicle, marching with no purpose other than to get away from him.

Landing at the playground, I planted my butt on a swing, gripped the chains, and hung my head to take a timeout … a few long breaths to regain my composure.

Fisher’s work boots made it into my line of sight, but I wasn’t ready to look at him or talk to him or … acknowledge his existence on the planet.

As I said a silent prayer for him to not say anything, God answered it.

Fisher walked behind me and grabbed the chains close to the seat, pulling me backward and giving me a gentle push forward.

He did it again and again, until I was so high I felt like the younger version of myself taking a deep breath and staring at the blue sky, imagining what it would be like to touch it.

After … I didn’t know. Five minutes? Ten minutes? He stopped pushing me and waited for me to come to a complete stop without forcing it with my feet or anything else. It was hard to explain how that moment touched me. It was stupid, really, but I had never felt so much patience given to me from another human as I felt as Fisher waited for me to come to a complete stop.

Feet dangling in virtual stillness.

The mulch crunched beneath his boots as he appeared in front of me again. Kneeling in the dirty mulch, he slid his arms around my waist and rested his head on my lap.

My poor teenaged adult heart. It didn’t care if Fisher was good for me. It didn’t care about anything other than the way he made me feel in that moment. I released the chain with my right hand and threaded my fingers through his hair.

“I’m trying so hard…” I whispered, my voice shaky in my chest and wobbly as the words fell from my lips “…trying so hard not to fall in love with you.”

A few breaths later, he whispered back, “I know.”

I didn’t know what that meant. He knew I was falling in love with him? Or he, too, was trying to keep from loving me?

It didn’t matter, not at that moment. All that mattered was he knew me.

Fisher released my waist and sat back on his heels, resting his hands on the top of my work boots dangling in front of him. “What do you want?” He gave me his eyes and a world of sincerity in them.

It shook me.

Maybe because I had never experienced real love in the romantic sense.

Maybe because I was scared.

Maybe because I didn’t really know what I wanted.

“The Porsche Cayenne,” I said, giving him the tiniest of smiles because I knew what he meant, but I wasn’t emotionally ready to answer that question.

Him.

I wanted him, but I had no idea what that really looked like. Me, an eighteen-year-old teenaged adult with no real direction, and him, a twenty-eight-year-old adult with his own house, his own business, and many people relying on him.

We couldn’t have been at more different places in our lives, yet … we somehow found each other. And there was something there.

Something undeniable.

Something real.

Something I wasn’t ready for, but I sure didn’t want to let it go.

With a painful flash of amusement, he returned the hint of a grin and nodded while standing and holding out his hand to me. “Can you afford the Cayenne?”

I nodded.

“Then get the Cayenne.”

Resting my hand in his, I hopped off the swing. He interlaced our fingers and led me back to the Forester. We returned the keys and got in his truck to go to work.

Fifty grand. That’s what I needed to ask my grandparents to give me because I wanted the Cayenne because it was sexy and fun—just like the naked fisherman.

He dropped me off at the office. And later that day, he asked Hailey to give me a ride home since he had to play catch up from taking me car shopping.

“Good timing,” Rory said, getting out of her Outback right as I climbed out of Hailey’s truck. “Hey, Hailey. Long time no see. How are you?”

“Good, Rory,” Hailey said with her window down. “How was California?”

“Good, but I’m sure glad to be back here. Thanks for giving Reese a ride home.”

“No problem. Talk to you later.” She rolled up her window and backed out of the driveway as I gave her a wave.

“Where’s Fisher?” Rory asked as we walked around to the back of the house.

“Still working. He took me car shopping this morning, so I think that put him a little behind today.”

“Oh, that’s right. Did you find anything?”

I shrugged. “I suppose. I just need to talk to Grandma and Grandpa since they have to approve all large purchases and transfer the money to my account.”

She opened the door. “So what did you find? I love my Outback. Did you look at Subarus?”

“Um … yeah, we actually test drove a Forester.”

“Nice. Was it in your price range?”

“Yeah, but I saw another small SUV that I liked too. We didn’t test drive it today, but I might another day.”

“That’s good. You don’t want to make a rash decision. It’s your first big purchase.”

“I know.” I unlaced my boots, slipped them off, and tossed my backpack onto my bed. “I’m going to grab a quick shower.”

“Okay. I’ll start dinner,” Rory called.