“Okay, then what is this?” she asks and holds a fly up for me to identify.
“That, my sweet Alyssa, is called Pat’s Rubberlegs.”
“And this?”
“That one’s easy.” I take it from her. “It’s a nymph, like you.”
She arches a brow. “You think I’m a mythical female spirit?”
I drop a kiss onto her cheek. “You’re definitely mythical, Aly. I’ve never met anyone quite like you before.” She gives me the sweetest smile and my mind goes back to the fun we had in New York last weekend. After our limo ride, we went back to the hotel and made love until the wee hours of the morning. Then we spent the day shopping and picking up a gift for my niece. Only problem is the more time I spend with this woman, the harder and harder it’s going to be to leave. But I have a hockey career to think about, and her life is here in Vermont.
“Are you ready to learn how to read the water?”
“Teach me.”
I glance down at the camouflage waders I’m wearing. They were her grandfather’s, and she kept them in her storage shed, unable to part with them. She’s in a pair of tan-colored ones, and she shouldn’t look sexy, but my God, she does. With her hair tied back in a ponytail, the freckles on her nose darkening in the summer sun, a face free of makeup, and a big smile on her face, she’s totally in her element, and has never looked more adorable.
“Something funny?” she asks as she follows my gaze down to her waders. “I mean, I know these waders aren’t my girl scout outfit and—”
“You are beautiful, Alyssa. I’ve got a boner just looking at you.”
She rolls her eyes in disbelief. “Yeah right.”
I take her hand and put it over my crotch.
She laughs. “Oh my God. You’re still that horny seventeen-year-old, Alek. What am I going to do with you?”
I put my hand around her fishing rod. “Maybe later you can rig another pole.”
“You are so bad,” she says. “Now come on, let’s get in the water, maybe that will help cool you down. If not, be careful. We don’t want the fish nipping at the wrong…pole.”
“Funny girl.”
I rein in my lust for the time being, and step beside her, as she glances out over the rushing water. I study her face, take in her concentration and it generates a new kind of warmth and need inside me. I love this side of her. Actually, I love all sides of her.
Careful, dude. This is a summer fling.
What if I want more?
“We call that flat,” she says as she points to a pool of unmoving water. “That’s where fish go to rest, and you’ll rarely get a bite there. Can you show me another flat?” she asks, testing me to see if I’m paying attention, no doubt.
“Right there,” I say and point to an area further down.
“You’re a fast learner,” she says, and I puff my chest up at the compliment.
“I’m good at a lot of things.”
She shakes the rod in my hand. “Get your mind on the rod, Alek.”
“Oh, it is,” I say and she laughs. The sweet sound curls around me.
“See how the water rushes over those rocks. That’s called the riffle and that’s where we’re going to catch our fish.” She points. “Look around those medium to small boulders. See how it builds a foam line? The front is a great place to catch a fish and so is the back of a boulder where fish can be resting as insects tumble by. We want to make sure our fly drifts naturally into that foam. Watch me.”
She throws her line out a couple of times and hits her mark. Her fly drifts down, and she pulls it back in. “You want to try.” I nod and she steps behind me, to help guide the movement. I don’t get it the first few times.
“You need to mend the line to push it upstream and allow the fly to drift naturally through the current. If fish see an unnatural drift, they will not eat your presentation.” She takes it from me and shows me how to do it.
“You make it look so easy.”