Her mouth went dry. Like desert dry. She gulped and made her way over the icy rocks to reach him. “I thought you were JT.” She handed him the larger mug.
“Thank you.” He accepted the cup, sniffed gratefully, and downed half of the liquid before testing the temperature.
She looked around the misty morning. “Where is JT?”
“He went to take care of errands about an hour and a half ago,” Scott said, his hand looking large and strong around the coffee cup. “He also said to tell you to take me on the charter.”
“You’re welcome to come.” The idea of spending the day on the water with him was far more appealing than she would’ve imagined.
A lock of his hair fell over his forehead, giving him more of a rebel look than a boyish one. There didn’t seem to be anything boyish about the badass ex-marine turned lawyer. “It’s been a while since I fished,” he admitted. “But yeah, I think it sounds like fun.”
Why had she invited him? Maybe he wanted a break from her. “Or you could call your office and get some work done.” Guilt swamped her that she was keeping him from what he needed to do.
“No. I’d rather go fishing. What do you think we’ll catch?”
She thought through the stretch of river she wanted to reach. “We’re going to drive to the New River,” she said. “This time of year, we should be able to catch some smallmouth bass as well as walleye. Do you enjoy fishing?”
“Yeah,” he said, his gaze raking her body.
She warmed from head to toe in response to his lingering look.
“I used to fish with my uncle growing up,” he said. “It was just my mom and me most of the time, but when Uncle Trace came through town, we’d go fishing. I kept it up during breaks for the last several years, but it’s probably been, well, a while.”
She could read the words he didn’t say. It had been since he’d been shot helping out Angus and his team. Scott had been in the hospital for quite a while but had seemed fine afterward. Now she wondered. How could anybody go through something like that and remain unscathed?
“I find that fishing, especially fly-fishing, helps relax my mind,” she admitted. “There’s something about being out there in nature alone, or at least a distance from anybody else, that just calms and quiets...”
“All the noise,” he finished for her. “Yeah, that’s how I remember it as well. I think this’ll be fun.”
She angled to the side to look beyond him. “Oh, good. It looks like JT already attached the boat trailer to the truck. He’s so helpful sometimes.” Of course, JT always did that for her, but she was running out of things to say. So she rambled. “I packed the picnic lunch and several thermoses of coffee, hot chocolate, and water. There are only three people coming—it should be a good morning.”
“How do you run a charter?” he asked. “I’ve never done anything like that.”
She smiled. “As soon as the participants arrive, we’ll take them through safety checks and make sure they understand the dangers. It’s my understanding after reading the booking this morning that they’re all experienced anglers, so they should have their own equipment and probably will just want to be guided to the good spots. It looks like tomorrow we have a charter for Running Creek, which is fun because we should be able to get some trout. But for now...”
She walked past him, feeling the heat from his body in a way that sent a shiver through her. Stumbling only slightly, she regained her footing and hopped onto a series of crates to look in the fishing boat. She reached in and flipped open the tackle box.
“What are you doing?” Scott asked, suddenly at her side.
She paused. With her perched on the crates, they stood almost eye to eye. “I’m making sure that JT remembered to pack the right flies. We have a difference of opinion when it comes to smallmouth bass.”
“Oh yeah?” Scott asked, one eyebrow rising. “Tell me more.”
“I think the Clouser minnow is the way to go. It mimics bait fish and I love the olive and white or the brown and yellow color options. I’m telling you, using them, we would catch smallmouth bass without question. But...” She rolled her eyes. “JT likes the crayfish patterns. I understand that crayfish are a good food source for bass, but they don’t work as well. JT is just in love with the crayfish. I mean, the guy’s nuts.”
“God, you’re adorable,” Scott murmured.
The words caught her off guard and she nearly fell off the crate. “I am?” Most people thought she was weird. Sometimes interesting, but never adorable.
“Yeah.” He reached out and brushed a knuckle across her jawline.
Her knees trembled. This was insane. Should she just tackle him and get it over with? That kiss the night before couldn’t have been as good as she was making it out to be. Could it? “Um,” she said.
The sound of tires on gravel drew her up short.
“Saved by the charter,” he murmured, taking a step back and holding out a hand to help her down.
Her hand trembled slightly, but she accepted his, which was warm and strong around her knuckles. She hopped to the ground. “Let’s meet these folks,” she said. “And make sure they know what they’re doing.”
