I nod and swallow slowly. “Seriously. And before you worry about being alone out in the wilderness with me, I’m going to introduce you to Marv so he can vouch for me. He’s known me since I was a kid, and I’ve done some fishing guide work for him on occasion. You can trust his assessment of me.”
She looks at me with an adorable smile that I know I like a little too much. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Well, if you’re on a journey of self-discovery, you don’t need any roadblocks getting in your way.” I pause and flick my gaze down to her chest. “Oh, and you’d better have a credit card with you because you’ll need to buy some seriously expensive gear today.”
Squealing with excitement, she nods eagerly just as Barb arrives with our burgers. “And you’d better eat all that. You’re going to need sustenance to keep you warm out there.”
She licks her lips and pops a fry into her mouth. “I can’t wait.”
I give her a dubious sort of smile because I’m sure she has no clue what she’s in for…and maybe neither do I.
Ice Breaker
Sam is an interesting and unexpected twist to my day. Oh, who am I kidding? Nothing about this day has been expected. So really, Sam is just par for the course at this point. But if I had to pick a guy out of a lineup to swoop in and save me, I would have never picked this guy.
He’s not hard on the eyes by any means. In fact, he’s got something going for him that I can’t quite put my finger on. His hair isn’t fully red, more dirty blond with reddish streaks throughout. And it’s cut in that messy, “I just rolled out of bed and stuffed my head into a slouchy knit cap” sort of way. His beard is freshly trimmed but long enough to show off its dark auburn tint.
And if I’m looking at him objectively, he clearly has a decent body. When he grabbed me around the waist, I felt how firm he was under those winter layers. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, and his chest and biceps fill out that white thermal shirt really nicely. Something tells me his workouts are more like chopping his own firewood and shoveling his own driveaway than working with a personal trainer and doing squats at a gym.
Yet still, I wouldn’t think he’d be the type to take charge in a crisis, so I’m pleasantly surprised. I wonder how old he is? Judging from those creases on the sides of his eyes and the crinkle between his brows, he’s got a good five years on me. He probably spends all his time outside in the sun. I could see him being a ranch hand for a farm maybe. Like a baseball cap-wearing cowboy.
But as I said, he’s not handsome in the traditional sense. Yet something interesting happens when he smiles. It’s like this shy grin that immediately embarrasses him when it spreads across his face. He even looks away when he does it. It’s kind of sexy.
But it doesn’t matter because he’s definitely not my type. He’s just someone proving to be very helpful at a time when I could use a friend. Because no one can know I’m here. No one can know what’s going on in my life right now. I want things to appear to be business as usual, and this guy could help me pass the time.
Marv gives me the seal of approval for Sam to be my fishing guide so now I’m making the most of this bait shop waiting room meet cute. Not that this is an actual “meet cute.” A meet cute between a couple involves feelings during the act of meeting. An attraction. An instant spark or even love at first sight—at least that’s how the romance novels I’ve read make it seem.
With Sam, it’s just a friendly exchange of services with no spark whatsoever. Of course, objectively when he marches me through the shopping area to look at snowsuits, I do have to appreciate the largeness of his frame and how it just seems sturdy and solid. When he walks across the room, you have the urge to either get the heck out of his way or cling to his arm for the ride. And his eyes have this warm, smiling affection to them as if he’s a man with very few worries. I like that. It feels safe. But thankfully, I just have a platonic appreciation for him being in the right place at the right time.
Let’s do some ice fishing!
I wrench open the ragged shower curtain that Marv calls a dressing room and do a spin for Sam, who I belatedly realize is literally asleep on the log bench that lines the nearby wall. His head is propped against a cork board and his mouth is hanging open as he breathes deeply in and out.
Talk about anticlimactic.
He sent me in here with a mound of clothes like I was Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman on a shopping spree, and I guess I just expected him to applaud or something when I came out. Maybe a little ogling. But no, Mr. Fisherman is out cold with his mouth hanging open so wide, I can see his molars!
I clomp over to him in my new snow boots and clap my silicone gloves together in front of his face. He jumps out of his chair and lets out a weird gurgle of a shout. “He said we could fish here!”
“What the heck?” I exclaim, covering my mouth as I giggle. “Were you dreaming?”
“Don’t wake me like that,” he growls, clearly agitated as he runs his hand through his beard to wipe away his drool.
“How am I supposed to know how to wake you? I just met you!”
“Wake me like a normal, functioning human, maybe.”
“Maybe you should stop falling asleep in public places, gramps.”
He frowns at that last word. “Well hell, you’ve been in there changing for over twenty minutes. I got bored.”
“You try getting this stuff on! It’s not easy, and I can barely move in it.” I put my hands on my waist and spread my legs, trying to test out my range of motion in this giant red and white snowsuit. It’s not much.
Sam finally takes me in and nods thoughtfully. “You look prepared, though. This is appropriate apparel for winter sports.” Standing to his full height, he’s a good five inches taller than me, which is saying a lot because I’m five foot nine. He reaches out and flicks the big red ball on top of my stocking cap.
“Do I look like a fisherwoman?” I ask, unable to hide my beaming smile.
“Definitely.” He nods, looking down my body with an interesting look I can’t quite place.
“Were you seriously dreaming about fishing there just a second ago?” I ask, my giggle bubbling up through my lips again.
“No,” he barks back with a frown. Turning on his heel, he calls over his shoulder, “Let’s go…we’re losing daylight.”
I move to follow him and then freeze. He turns when he doesn’t hear me behind him. “What is it?”
My face contorts in dread. “I have to pee.”
Twelve and a half minutes later, I’m redressed, have purchased my fishing license and gear, and am outside looking around for Sam’s truck. Bearded guys always drive trucks, right? He’s like the ginger-bearded Brawny man, for goodness’ sake. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he drove a tow truck.
“Where’s your truck?” I ask, my breath puffing out in front of my lips as I find Sam propped against the side of the bait shop.
“No truck,” he replies and points at the parking spot behind me.
I turn around. “Oh my gosh, a snowmobile? Bonus!” I crunch over the packed snow to awkwardly throw my foot over the seat and climb aboard. I grab the handlebars and smile at him. “Do you drive this out on the ice?”
He nods and strides over to the back of the sled. “It’s a lot safer than a truck.” He double checks the items he has strapped down on the back of the bench and then straightens to eye me one more time. “This is your last chance to back out. You feel how cold it is, right?”
“I’m not backing out!” I exclaim and grip the handles even tighter as I picture us gliding across a frozen lake. What freedom, what a rush! Wide-open air and smooth, cold ice. I bite my lip and look over my shoulder at Sam. “Can I drive?”
“Hell no,” he replies and hands me a shiny black helmet that he just ripped the tag off of.
“Did you just buy this?” I ask, looking down at the clearly brand new helmet.
He nods. “While you were changing for nineteen hours.”
“Was this before or after your grandpa nap?” I mumble under my breath as I pull my stocking cap off and replace it with the helmet. My voice is muffled when I state proudly, “Now I really feel like a fisherwoman.”