The Naked Fisherman by Jewel E. Ann

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Do you have everything packed?”Rory seemed concerned about my big two-night trip to Texas. “If they ask how things are going here, what are you going to say?”

I rolled my carry-on suitcase out of the bedroom. “Are you chewing your nails?”

Rory jerked her hand away from her mouth. “No.”

“Why do you seem so panicked?”

She sighed, blowing her hair out of her face. “It’s just that I know they think I’m a complete failure, and I don’t want them thinking I’m a bad influence because I’ve tried to do things right. Ya know? I mean, I let you have a little sangria, but I’ve tried to make sure you have everything you need. And Fisher has been so great at helping watch out for you too. I just want them to know that.”

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes. It made no sense. They couldn’t take me away from her.

Pressing her fingers over her closed eyes, she grumbled. “Ugh … it’s just that they used to like me. I went out of my way to impress them. And I don’t care what they think of me, but I know they have influence over you, probably way more than I do. And I don’t want them to persuade you to move back to Texas because…” she pushed out her lower lip “…I’m selfish. I want you with me for as long as you’re willing to stay. It’s not that I think I can make up for the years I was gone, but I want the chance to be your mom again. Really be your mom.”

I held out my arms and hugged her. “I’m going to tell them that it’s been great. You bake and cook. You’re appropriately overprotective. You don’t go to church with me, but they don’t need to know that.”

“I love you, Reese. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world. I always have and I always will.”

I released her and grabbed my bag in one hand and my suitcase in my other hand. “I love you too.” It was the first time I had said that to her in over five years. It felt right. It felt true.

“Oh … let me run up and get Fisher. He’ll carry your suitcase to the car so you don’t have to lug it up by yourself.”

“I’ve got it.”

“He’ll get it. I don’t want you tripping or anything.” She ran up the stairs.

“I’ve got it. Really.” I started to open the door to carry it up to my car.

“Fisher can you give Reese a hand with her suitcase?”

Gah! Why?

I barely got it out the door before Rory returned with Fisher.

Fisher in his exercise shorts and no shirt. Tennis shoes untied like he’d just slipped them on his bare feet. If he wasn’t going to marry me and put ten babies in my womb, then the shirtless thing was nothing more than a big F-you to me.

“I said I can do it. She’s coddling me. Again.” I rolled my eyes to lighten the mood and give my eyes something to do besides gawk at his unnaturally flawless body.

“Well, I’m here now. I’ll carry it.” He took the suitcase from me and headed up the side of the house.

“Bye, sweetie. Text me as soon as you land.” Rory gave me one last hug.

“I will. See you Sunday.” I closed the door and jogged to catch up to Fisher. “Sorry. Really, I had it.”

Fisher loaded it into the back of my Forester. “It’s no big deal.” He closed the back.

“Well, thanks.”

“Enjoy your trip.”

I nodded, feeling the heat of his body. I always felt him without ever touching him. My body seemed to naturally gravitate toward him like it knew where it belonged before my brain figured it out.

We couldn’t work together. We couldn’t ride in the same vehicle. We could barely be in the same room without a clawing need ripping me apart from the inside. That must have been what withdrawal felt like.

“Reese?”

I turned after opening my door.

“I’m sorry.”

It was a terrible apology. I didn’t want his words. Fisher showed me. That was what he did. He showed me when he was sorry. It meant more. No … it meant everything. But that … that sad uttering of apology from his lips felt empty, like he was drained but he’d managed to gather a few drops of apology as if it would quench my thirst. My unquenchable thirst for him.

“I should have known better. It was selfish of me.” He added yet another layer of pain to my already throbbing wounds.

Regret.

It was always the regret that hurt the most.

“Well, I’m not sorry. Not for any of it. You know it’s…” I shook my head “…ironic. Adults, real adults, like to lecture young adults like me. They like to paint this picture of hopes and dreams, endless possibilities, and constantly remind us that we can do anything, be anything. But that’s a lie. Because all I wanted was to live a day at a time and figure things out one moment at a time. That’s all I wanted to do. And all I wanted to be was yours.” After a quick shrug, I rolled my eyes toward the sky to ward off the tears. “I don’t want your apologies or your help because they don’t get me you.”

He said nothing. Not a word. Not a single muscle in his body moved. Defeat personified.

“I’m going to fall in love. And some guy will be lucky to have me. He’ll love me for me. And he won’t care where I’ve been or where I’m going. He’ll just feel so fucking lucky to be the one who kisses me goodnight and wakes up in the morning with me in his arms. He won’t be burdened by my virginity or aggravated that I don’t wear socks with my sneakers. He will be a better man for having found me, and I will be a better woman for having found him. I know they say love is patient, but it’s not. Love is the brightest star in the sky. It doesn’t have an off switch or a timer. It doesn’t wear a watch or look at a calendar. It’s why we’re here. It’s the only true reason for our existence.”

Fisher was good at taking punches. He didn’t duck or even wince. He swallowed every word and let it settle somewhere deep inside of his mind, his heart, maybe his soul. And if he felt unsteady or even a pang of discomfort, I never knew.

“I have to go.”

He smiled ever so slightly. “Have a safe trip.”

I returned a single nod and climbed into my car. Then, I made it a full three blocks before I cried all the tears.

It was him. He was the someday guy.

The kiss goodnight. It was him.

Waking in the morning in his arms.

It felt like I would forever carry a Fisher-shaped mold around with me, trying to shove other men into a place they would never fit.

The wrong key.

The wrong piece to a puzzle.

I was destined to settle and that sucked.