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I can’t hide a grin. “I’m afraid you have the wrong impression. Evie has hated my guts for a very long time. And I’m pretty sure she will again, as soon as we stop spending time together.” Sober Evie might not like me nearly as much as Drunk Evie did. When she asked me to kiss her that first time, she was drunk. And when she told me she loved me? She was drunk then, too.

Mr. Jacobson sets his rod to the side. “Why do you think I insisted you two work together? It wasn’t for my health.”

My bobber dips, so I jerk my pole to set the hook. Nothing, though. I reel it in and replace my worm. “Well, I thought we were fixing what we messed up,” I admit.

He grins. “She begged you to kiss her. She wrote it right there on the wall for you. Have you done it yet?”

I shake my head, unable to look at him.

“Why not?”

Should I tell him? I’ll sound like the worst sort of idiot if I do. I take a deep breath and blurt out, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“That she’s going to make me fall in love with her and then she’s going to disappear. She’s been coming and going my whole life, Mr. Jacobson, always just outside my reach.”

“She’s not outside your reach now. She’s right there, just waiting for you to make a move.”

The slow whine of a boat motor catches my attention, and I look up to find a small fishing craft coming toward us. It slows down next to us and the driver cuts the motor.

I shade my eyes with my hand and see the silhouette of a man I know.

“Dad?”

“Grady,” Dad replies. He doesn’t say more. Just my name. He and Mr. Jacobson exchange nods.

“When did you get a boat?” I ask him. “And why aren’t you working?” My dad always works on Saturday mornings.

“Your mother pitched a fit and told me I couldn’t work weekends anymore. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I thought I’d take up fishing. Even got myself a boat. Somebody traded it in for a four-door sedan. Can you believe that? Apparently, he and his wife just had a baby, and the wife told him that the boat had to go so they could get a safer car.”

I eye the boat. It’s a small fishing boat, a little bigger than the one I’m in.

“Hell, it’s been so long since I’ve fished, I think I’ve forgotten how.” He looks around. “Why aren’t you with Evie?” he suddenly asks. “I heard you two are joined at the hip now.”

I resist rolling my eyes. “She’s busy.”

“I told you that girl is going to ruin your life,” Dad remarks, and I see a muscle tic working in his jaw.

“I vaguely remember your daddy telling you something similar, young man,” Mr. Jacobson says to my father. “Used to make you madder than a wet hen.” Mr. Jacobson’s eyes narrow. “How many years have y’all been together now?”

“Forty, almost forty-one,” Dad says quietly.

Mr. Jacobson clucks his tongue, remembering. “Your daddy hated to see her walk up to you on the street. Said she’d ruin you.” He grunts out a belly laugh. “If I remember right, he made a bet that she’d be pregnant before you could tie the knot.”

Dad’s face turns red and he sputters out, “She was not!” My mom always said she must have gotten pregnant on her wedding night. Now I’m not so sure. Not that it matters. But it probably mattered a whole hell of a lot way back then.

Mr. Jacobson holds out a hand to calm my dad down. “I know she wasn’t. But your father was set on it.” He stares into my dad’s eyes. “I reckon a successful man ought to know his own mind, wouldn’t you think? You knew your wife was the one. You made your choice. Now Grady gets to make his.” He nods toward me. “You raised a smart boy.”

“He put himself through college,” Dad says, and it sounds like a put-down, but he almost looks prideful about it at the same time.

Mr. Jacobson nods. “I heard.”

“And that business of his is doing well, right, Grady?” He turns to me.

“It is, Dad,” I admit.

“How much debt you got?” Dad asks me.


Tags: Tammy Falkner Lake Fisher Romance