"We were both working in the same part of the lake, that’s all.”
Rayna and Chrissy exchange a glance I recognize with a sinking heart. I've seen that look before. It's the look of women who are very happy and have decided that everyone around them should be happy too, immediately, and preferably with the nearest available man.
"You should come to Thursday pizza," Rayna says. "The whole crew's there. Forrest never misses it."
"I really shouldn't. I've got early sampling and—"
"She'll come," Dani says.
"Dani."
"You have to eat, Aileen. Even scientists have to eat." She grins. "Besides. Don't you need to ask Forrest something about the survey?"
And that's how I end up standing on a sun-warmed dock two nights later with a slice of the best pizza I've ever eaten in one hand, looking across a crowded table at a quiet man who watches me over the top of his drink like I'm the only interesting thing in the room.
I'm only here for the summer.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
Chapter Three
Forrest
ThursdaypizzaatMercurySlice is a Mercury Ridge institution. Not only is it the best pizza in North Carolina, but the lake location is the perfect gathering spot for locals and tourists alike. It even has a dock that’s accessible by boat. Perfect for my friends and me, who spend as much time on Lake Mercury in the summer as possible.
Tonight the whole crew's here. Ace and Chrissy, tangled up together on the same side of the bench like they're stitched at the hip. Joel and Rayna, who keeps hopping up to help at the pickup window even though she's technically off shift. Trent, working his way through a pepperoni slice and narrating everyone's business. Liam, shoulder finally healed, arguing with Trent about the fishing tournament like they do every single year.
And Aileen.
She came. I didn't think she would.
She's sitting at the far end of the table with a slice she claims she doesn't have room for and keeps eating anyway, and she'sgot her guard up so high you could hang laundry on it, and every few minutes she looks at me like she can't figure out why she's here.
"So, Aileen," Trent says. "Forrest here says you've got a whole boat full of science equipment. You out there tagging our fish?"
"Some of them." Aileen sets down her slice. When she talks about the work, something changes in her. The guardedness burns off and she lights up, sharp and sure. "I catch a sample, measure them, tag a percentage, and release everything. Then I recapture on a second pass. The overlap between what I tag and what I catch again tells me the population size and how healthy the fishery is."
"Catch and release," I say.
Her eyes flick to mine. "Catch and release," she agrees, and there's the smallest curve at the corner of her mouth, like we've got a private joke.
"That's Forrest's whole religion," Ace says around a mouthful of pizza. "Man's never kept a fish in his life. Or a woman, come to think of—"
Chrissy elbows him in the ribs hard enough to make him grunt.
"What?" Ace says, wounded. "I'm just saying he's picky."
"He's selective," Chrissy corrects, and gives Aileen a look so pointed it could core an apple.
I could kill all of them. I love them, but I could kill them.
Aileen's cheeks have gone pink, and she reaches for her drink to cover it, and I take pity on both of us and change the subject.
"That rental's costing you time," I say. "How many survey mornings has it eaten?"
"Two and a half. But I'm still on schedule."
"For now. But you’ll quickly fall behind in that old beater. You need a reliable boat.” I lean back. "I don't book clients before eight. Come with me from five-thirty to eight, four mornings aweek. I'll get you to every site on your list, and the state can stop paying for an outboard held together by rust and a prayer.”
