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Authors: Erin McCarthy

Close Up (17 page)

BOOK: Close Up
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“Oh, God, that would be horrible.” She shuddered and sat her rump back down on the bench, leaning and stretching to reach the net.

He was about to pull the fish out, so he told her, “Lift up the net. I’m going to drop him into it. Just hold on to it, even if he flops around, okay?” He really, really didn’t want to lose the fish or Kristine overboard.

“Sure. Geez. How hard can it be?”

* * *

K
RISTINE HAD THOUGHT
that was a simple enough question. In fact, she’d thought it was an unnecessary question.

But then a fish came flying out of the water and suddenly it was all hooks and tackle and line and water and net. At one point, the damn thing slapped her right in the face with its tail, and she screamed. Sean was giving her instructions, but she couldn’t process them over her own squawking and a pervasive panic. She was going into the water, she just knew it.

But she didn’t fall in the lake.

The lake merely splashed all over her, as did the wonderful scent of freshwater fish. Which was to say, not fresh at all.

In seconds it was over. The fish was caught, Sean took the net from her, and she was half standing, half sitting, droplets of cold water all over her. “What just happened?”

“We bagged a bass. Good job, babe. Now we have dinner.” He carefully lifted it out of the net and removed the hook. “Here, you want to hold it? Just grab it by the mouth.”

Was he serious? “Are you serious?”

“Totally. Don’t you want me to take your picture with it?”

“No. No, I’m really okay.” But then he looked so sad and disappointed, she felt like a buzz kill. Which rather defeated the purpose of being there. They were supposed to be having fun, and she wanted to attempt to make amends, in whatever small way she could, for ditching him ten years ago.

So against her better judgment, she held out her hand tentatively. “Fine. I’ll hold him.”

Sean smiled, looking ridiculously pleased. Was that really all it took to please a man? Hold his fish? This was eye-opening.

“Just hook your index finger inside his mouth,” Sean said, handing the bass to her.

It was scaly, cold, a bit slimy. She was touching fish lips. Oh, God. It took everything she had not to grimace. She also came perilously close to dropping it, but she managed to keep her grip while Sean pulled out his phone.

Wonderful. There was going to be evidence that she was wearing a pink camouflage jacket that belonged to a woman with a much smaller chest than her, a black knit cap and a bass dangling from her reverse–French manicured finger. She must really love Sean if she were willing to do this.

Holy moly.

Yes, she loved Sean. That was no shocker. But she knew that in order to be an adult, she had to let him go. She couldn’t let him swoop in and take care of her. Like the fish, she had to throw him back, let him swim away. Because if she let him do what he wanted, make it all better and easier for her, what would she have learned? Not how to stand on her own two feet, that was for sure.

So what the hell was she really doing?

Kristine lost her grip again on the flapping fish and dropped it with a shriek. The poor fish flopped around on the bottom of the boat while she grimaced. “Ugh, sorry, but I swear, he bit me!”

“He doesn’t have teeth,” Sean said, shaking his head at her, but not looking particularly upset.

Which he would be if he had been privy to her outrageous thoughts. Oh, my God, why was she still in love with Sean?

It was idiotic. Unrealistic. Futile. Asinine.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Cook him for dinner or toss him back? It’s up to you.”

Without hesitation, she said, “Toss him back.” She couldn’t look at the fish without feeling guilty. She certainly couldn’t eat it without feeling that she was punishing him for bringing to her attention the fact she was insane. It wasn’t the poor fish’s fault.

It was her fault. For being stupid enough to have ten years to get over a man and not managing it. This was just the epitome of her underachiever status. Seriously. What women needed a full decade to fall out of love with a man she’d been married to for only six months?

Her, that’s who.

“Bye, Bob,” she told the fish morosely.

“Bob?” Sean picked him up.

“Yes. I decided to name him.” Bob the Bass. Kristine the Ass. It seemed appropriate.

“Kiss Bob goodbye, then.” Sean held him up to her.

Bob’s gills puffed in and out and he looked a little frantic. She knew the feeling. Making kissing sounds toward him, she urged Sean with her hand. “Throw him back. I don’t want him to suffer brain damage from lack of oxygen or something.” Though that seemed odd. To suffocate in air, as opposed to water.

Whatever. She didn’t have a biology degree. All she knew was it made her feel bad to see Bob stressed. “I feel like I should give him a parting gift.”

“Fine. He’s going back.” Sean tossed Bob into the water. “But no, you can’t knit him a sweater. I don’t think he would appreciate it.”

“Ha, ha.” Kristine shivered. “Ugh, I got wet.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“You’re just cracking yourself up, aren’t you? At least someone is laughing at your sense of humor.” She gave him an eye roll, though secretly, she was amused by him. He seemed determined to put aside the confession that he was lonely.

He even laughed, but he said, “We can head back. I don’t want you to catch cold.”

She had meant it when she’d told him he had taken care of her when they were together. It seemed natural to him, probably because he’d watched his father treat his mother that way. Kristine had always thought his parents had a wonderful marriage based on love and respect. It was what she had wanted for herself, and truthfully, she’d had it, until she had blown it. Despite the cool temperature, her cheeks felt hot. “Okay, thanks.”

Sean set down his pole and turned the motor up higher. “You didn’t even make a single joke about my rod or my pole this whole time. I’m disappointed.”

Pushing her hair off her face, Kristine laughed. “Geez, I’m slacking. I used to be so fabulous at sexual innuendos. I guess I’m out of practice. Do you remember how on our honeymoon, on our way home from the cabin, we did that tour of the old iron ore mine? And I kept making comments about the length of the shaft and how deep I’d like to see it go? I thought that old lady next to us was going to blow a gasket.”

He snorted. “I remember.”

Kristine gave him a rueful look. “I guess that was kind of immature. She probably just wanted to learn about hematite and there I was drunk on sex and love, cracking jokes.”

“You were whispering them. It wasn’t like she could actually hear what you were saying.”

“True.” She lifted the jacket and sniffed it as Sean turned the boat back toward the cabin. “Ugh. This stinks now.”

“Fishing hazard. No big deal.” He leaned forward and pretended to take a deep breath. “You’ve smelled worse.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Too bad it’s not warmer. I could throw you in the lake.”

“How would that fix the stink? It’s lake I smell like.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t fix the odor. But it would be fun to toss you in.” He winked at her. “Then I could watch your chest jiggle while you hop around trying to escape the crawfish nibbling at your ankles. I’ve seen it. It’s a good view.”

She couldn’t believe he remembered that. She had wound up doing a wild dance in the water, shrieking and bouncing from foot to foot, terrified. He had failed to mention crawfish to her ahead of time, and she had ignorantly strolled into the lake only to be casually assaulted by crustaceans while he laughed hysterically.

“Nice of you to take advantage of the opportunity to ogle me instead of helping.” But she hadn’t really minded because it had resulted in him doing the most delicious things to her breasts, his eye clearly caught by the movement. Her nipples had been peaked from the cold water and he had sucked them into even-tighter buds.

Thinking about it now made her want to squirm on the bench. What had happened on the kitchen table earlier had merely whetted her appetite. It had been too long since she’d lost an entire weekend to pure pleasure.

“I’m nice that way.” And with that, he reached over and snagged the last chocolate chip cookie with his fishy fingers.

“Gross,” was her thought on that.

He just popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth and made sounds of satisfaction. In another minute, he had them at the dock and Kristine was glad. She was cold, and the stench of the jacket was actually starting to upset her stomach. It was one thing in theory to rough it, it was another when it crawled up your nostrils and took up residence.

“There’s no way for me to really wash up, is there?” she asked him, unzipping the jacket and peeling it off.

“Just the outside shower. But it will be freezing.” He looked at her in concern as he tied off the rope to anchor them. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel kind of queasy. I think I need to freshen up a little or at least change my clothes. Even my hair smells like fish.” Normally she wasn’t so hypersensitive, but she hadn’t slept much the night before from the stress. All she’d eaten in the past twenty-four hours or so was the chili and cookies, which probably weren’t the best bet for an empty tummy. She shivered.

“I can find clean clothes for you to wear. And I’ll get a fire going so you can sit and warm up.”

“I know it will be cold, but I’m going to try to rinse off with some body soap. I think that will help.”

“Okay. Do you want me to grab something out of your bag?”

“Yes, if you could get my body wash that would be awesome. In it’s the travel case.” Once Sean hauled her onto the dock, she felt better. Or maybe it was because she removed the constricting jacket.

But she actually thought the cold water might feel good.

“Sit down a minute while I get a fire going.” Sean efficiently tossed down some pine needles in the center of the fire pit then built a classic pyramid of sticks and several thick logs. Within five minutes, it was blazing away cheerfully, already warming her.

Then he took her to show her how to use the outdoor shower. There was no protection, just a short wall that gave a very minimal amount of privacy. He had gone for her body wash and he set the bottle on the ledge.

“Sometimes the sun warms the hose a little, but I wouldn’t count on that since it’s October.”

“At least there is a shower of sorts. Last time there wasn’t anything.” They had been forced midweek to boat back to the shore and take a shower at his parents’ house.

The hose connected to a showerhead, and when Kristine turned it on, a soft trickle rained down onto a gravel bed. It didn’t look comfortable or glamorous, but she would make do. Peeling off her flannel shirt and scarf, she tentatively leaned her shoulder into the stream. “Eek. It is cold, but it kind of feels good.”

“You’re going to shower with your bra on?” Sean asked.

“Well, I’m not planning to take a real shower, but whatever I plan on doing, I am going to do it with you somewhere else. I don’t need an audience.” The whole circumstance screamed awkward.

“You’re no fun.” He leaned on the half wall, with clearly no intention of leaving.

“I am so fun. I’m a big bouncy ball of fun.” Squirting soap into her hands she rubbed it over her arms and neck. She wasn’t sure what was fishy, but this would have to suffice.

“Prove it.”

She didn’t feel the need to prove anything, but she knew Sean wouldn’t expect her to rise to the occasion. So she decided in the spirit of the weekend to really give him something to look at.

Taking off her bra, she threw it at him.

The choking sound he gave made her smile in satisfaction as she decided the hell with it. And stuck her whole head under the cold stream of water.

13

S
EAN DIDN’T REALLY
expect Kristine to do anything other than order him back into the house and away from her.

Which was why, when she unhooked her bra and tossed it in his direction, he was too stunned to catch it. It thumped his chest, then fell onto his boots, while he choked on the mouthful of saliva that had appeared at the droolworthy sight of her bare breasts. It was a view he hadn’t seen unobstructed in ten years, but damn, it was worth the wait.

Kristine was an all-natural, 100 percent–sexy woman, with a rack that men would pay to see.

Lucky him, he was getting to look up close and personal.

As she bent her head back deeply and dampened her hair, water sluiced down the front of her face and trickled over her substantial breasts. The cold air and water made goose bumps dance across her flesh. Her nipples were tight raspberry-colored peaks. Yeah. He was officially as hard as diamonds and incapable of speech as he watched her soap up.

It didn’t seem to bother her that he was totally gawking at her.

In fact, she had a hint of a smirk on her face.

That smile spurred him into action. Peeling off his outer jacket and hat, he walked right up to her. “Is there room for me?”

She licked moisture off her lips. “There isn’t much water pressure so don’t get too soapy.”

That was a yes. Sean wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin beneath his callused fingers. He worked an office job now, running his business, but he had grown up working and playing alongside his father, who was definitely an outdoorsman. So Sean’s hands were rough, unlike the soft smoothness of Kristine’s body. It felt damn good to touch her.

“You’re right, there isn’t much water pressure,” he said, nibbling at her ear. “My lips aren’t even getting wet.”

She sighed. “Mmm. You feel nice and warm.”

“Because I’m smart enough to be wearing clothes.” Though he wished it were summer so they could both strip down and make love right here outdoors, under the water. It was a sexy thought, but impractical. “Don’t take too long,” he cautioned her. “You don’t want to freeze.”

She held her arms up so she could rinse the soap off her forearms. “Maybe you could help me.”

That was flirty. He loved it. Nothing like an invitation to touch her to make him a happy, happy man.

BOOK: Close Up
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