Coming Up Daffy (5 page)

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After a pleasant thirty minute drive, Mark scoped out a nice-looking spot on the lakeshore that was far enough from the main path that they wouldn't be trampled on if folks had the same idea, but not so far in the wilderness that it'd be a pain to haul the gear back after a day of fishing. Driftwood, clumps of water plants, broken bits of boats and wood littered the sandy pebble-strewn shore. He handed a rod to Alice and took his own in hand.

“Have you ever baited a hook before?” He plopped a bait box between them then proceeded to select a hook appropriate to the occasion. Once he tied it to his line, he did the same to Alice's rod. “Alice?”

“Oh, sorry. I was admiring the glint of the sun on the water. It's relaxing here.” She shifted her attention to him. “The water lures you in.” The gentle wind ruffled her hair. “And no, I don't know how to do the hook thing.” She glanced at the worm he held. A shiver wracked her shoulders. “Actually, I'd rather not have to put a hook through that poor little guy.”

Mark snorted. “You have no problems handling worms and dirt for your business, but fishing with them creeps you out?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I don't want to harm the little guys. Plus, it's kind of gross.”

A wave of warmth moved through his gut at her girlie admission. It was cute she acted concerned for the lowly worm. “I'd be happy to bait yours.” He captured her hook, and as gently as he could, threaded the worm on the hook and afterward added a tiny weight to the line. “There you go. I tried not to harm him any more than necessary.” He let go of the fishing line. The hooked worm swung toward Alice. She shrieked and held the rod at arm's length so the worm wouldn't touch her.

He tried with little success to stifle the laugh bubbling in his throat, but it escaped anyway. Seeing her dance away from live bait reminded him of his childhood, when his mom had done much the same thing. And, much like he was doing with Alice, his dad had baited his mom's hook. Now he knew why. Doing such a thing gave a man a proprietary sense. Being with Alice made him feel manlier than he had in a long time. “I never thought baiting a hook would be the thing that brought out my heroic powers.” Before her worm could squirm off the hook, he tied the weight on the line then added the worm to the hook and headed toward the water line.

“It's nice you want to be a hero. Keep working at it.” She joined him at the edge of the lake yet kept her pole well away from her body. “It's awesome to have such a goal. Heroics and bravery are lacking in the world today.”

Yes, they are. Too bad folks don't seem to appreciate stuff like that.
“Okay, since we're doing shore fishing, we're not after big swimmers. Maybe we'll snag a trout or a bluegill. Something along those lines.” He cocked his fishing pole back over his shoulder. “Use a little wrist action and chuck your line into the water, but don't choke it.”

“Oh, yeah, I'll get it perfect the first time out.” A heavy dose of sarcasm infused the statement.

“Try it.” He demonstrated and cast his hook ten or fifteen feet into the water. The red-and-white bobber remained on the water's surface. “Now, we wait.”

Alice attempted to emulate his actions. She made two pseudo-casts before her line became tangled. A pretty frown turned down her mouth. “This is way too hard.”

“You just have to practice.” Mark unknotted her line and handed the rod back to her. “Go again, but relax this time.”

She did as instructed. Her line flew into the water about five feet away. Chances were good the tide would wash it onshore within ten minutes but for her first time casting, it wasn't bad. “Well, at least it's in the water and not stuck to my backside, right?”

It took all of Mark's willpower not to look at that portion of her anatomy. “Yeah.” When the breeze rippled over Alice's clothes and pulled at the neckline of her t-shirt, giving him a quick glimpse of an ivory bra strap, he fumbled to keep hold of his fishing rod. Thankfully, she turned out of the wind, and the shirt settled over the tempting piece of clothing. “Tell me a little about yourself. Have you lived in Francesville all your life?”

“I have.” A gentle smile brightened her expression. “I still live with my dad.” She shrugged. “I know, it's weird. I'm twenty-seven and still living at home, but since my mom died of breast cancer, I haven't had the heart to leave Dad on his own.” She looked out over the lake where, sure enough, her bobber slowly floated back to her. “Besides, he takes care of my car, and I don't have to pay rent, which is nice since running a business is sometimes a financial burden.”

“I'm sorry to hear about your mom. It was tough when Grandpa passed.”

Alice waved away his concern. “It was several years ago. At least now she's pain free and in a better place.” She sighed as the bobber danced on the water then beached itself on the pebbled shore. “As for Dad, I kinda like taking care of him. Right now, he's the only guy in my life, and even though his demands are sometimes annoying, I'd be lost without him.” She lifted her gaze to Mark's. “He keeps me sane and doesn't mind that I'm daffy.”

“You're not daffy. You're…” He narrowed his eyes while searching his brain for the appropriate words. “You're refreshingly unique.”

“Yeah, like a platypus.”

“Uh, I guess so.” He didn't know much about that type of animal, but if she said it, it must be true.

“Did you know the platypus is an egg-laying, otter-footed mammal? It also has a duck-bill and a beaver-tail plus it's venomous — well, the males are. They're native to Australia and New Zealand. I think they'd make excellent pets.”

Mark stared at her, and again his jaw hung slightly slack. “Good to know.” Okay, now he could see where the daffy part came in, yet it still didn't bother him. Everyone had a hobby. Maybe topic jumping was hers. “You're not dating anyone at the moment.” He suspected she wasn't, but he couldn't help wanting the details.

“Nope. My last boyfriend dumped me six months ago by text message.” She reeled in her line and then awkwardly tried another cast. This time she went out eight feet.

“Are you sad about that?”

“Not really. Frank wasn't into me as much as he was into the easy access of getting busy between the sheets.”

His gut ached as if he'd just been punched. “You slept with him?” Goodness, his grandma would slap him silly if she'd heard his breach in manners. He couldn't help it. Alice didn't seem like the type of girl to fall into the sack with a guy for the recreation of it.

“I did. It seemed a natural progression at the time.” The glance she shot him brimmed with light annoyance. “It's not a crime, you know.”

Heat crept up the back of Mark's neck. “I didn't mean to hint that I thought it was bad. I was just surprised.” An awkward silence sprang between them. Alice didn't look at him again, which made the whole conversation more difficult. “How long did your, uh, relationship last?”

“Three months. We were more like a friends-with-benefits couple. He was into sports. I had my flower business. But, what attracted me to him was his ability to prepare for the future. The guy had a nice 401K, a savings account, and a plan. He knew where he was going, and it seemed secure. He was a good fit or so I thought.” She shrugged. “The thing that broke us up was Frank's commute to Francesville every Friday night.”

“He didn't think you were worth the drive?”

“I guess not. If there wasn't the promise of weekend sex, I doubt he'd have made the drive for as long as he did.”

Mark's heart ached for her. No one should have to feel as if they were throwaway material or expendable if gas prices rose. “I'm sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault. There wasn't anything real beneath the hormones, now that I think about it. Of course, meeting a guy in a bar doesn't speak highly of character, does it?” Finally, she turned her head and met his gaze. “In case you were wondering, my Dad didn't care much for Frank. I'd never heard more banging around in the garage than when I dated him.”

“Your dad was probably worried about you.” Mark imagined it was tough for a member of the older generation to wrap his or her brain around how things worked in today's world, especially if Alice's dad didn't think she'd be provided for — materially or mentally. “I don't know that I'd be a fan of jumping into the sack right away, but if I did, you can bet I wouldn't call things off for gas money.”

Good grief, what would she think when — or if — he let on that he was a virgin? Yeah, he could talk a good game and he could play around with the best of his male friends, but not many of them knew his sexual situation. It hadn't mattered to the handful of women he'd dated over the years, since none of those relationships had ever progressed far enough for the issue to come up. He'd kissed a couple, made out with a few, but that was all. Thank heavens for small miracles. To him, sharing sex seemed too special to toss it out like used tissues. Apparently, in this day and age, it was too much to expect by the time he finally found the “right” woman, she wouldn't have fooled around either.

I'm just not comfortable in the fast lane.

“Well, that makes you unique, too. Good for you.” Her smile came back then she returned her attention to the lake.

“Thanks.” Too many parental and grandparental lectures about proper behavior of “fine young men” bounced through his head as he tried to digest Alice's story. In the end, they left him with a feeling of inadequacy. What if he was too old-fashioned for today's dating pool — for her?
Maybe I'm better off being single. What kind of woman would want a backward, bait-selling, farm-living, grandma-bullied guy?

“Hey.” Alice laid a hand on his arm. The electric touch snapped him out of the doldrums. “Why don't we talk about fishing? I'd like it if you taught me how to get this casting thing right.” Compassion pooled in her blue eyes. “It would be awesome if I could catch my first fish today.”

He nodded. At least he'd be able to teach her that. Besides, it was too early in the relationship — if that's what this was — to worry about things that may or may not happen down the road. Right now, he was only looking for compatibility and potential.

“The thing about fishing is you can't think about it too hard. It's meant to be a relaxing hobby.” Mark reeled in his line. The hook was naked. Either a crafty fish had taken the bait when his mind had been otherwise occupied, or the worm had wriggled free. “Fishing's a good opportunity to let your mind wander.”

Alice's snort of laughter made him smile. “Like I have a problem with that.” She reeled in her line. Her poor worm was impaled and a little waterlogged but still good.

“I think I can overlook that tendency.” He moved behind her. “Okay, you need to relax your wrist.” Once he positioned her in front of him, he took her right hand. “You're too tense, and you're holding the rod too high. Get a better grip.”

“Like this?” She readjusted her hold.

“Yeah. Now, all the strength from casting will come from your shoulder, but the last second flick of the wrist is what will propel the weight where it needs to go.” Still holding her hand, he walked her through the motions a few times. “When you feel comfortable with it, try a few on your own. Don't worry about stopping the line. I'll teach you that later.”

“Show me again.” She took a step closer to him. Her backside brushed against his front. “I need you to help me one more time.”

“Uh-huh.” Mark's concentration faltered. He didn't care about fishing or how to grip a fishing rod or even how to do a perfect cast. Alice filled his senses.

Her floral scent teased his nose. The breeze blew soft strands of her hair. The ends tickled his neck. Since he held her in a loose embrace, the heat from her body seeped into his while he couldn't help but notice how her curves felt against him. What would her skin feel like? How would she react if he turned her around and kissed her?

Mark moved his left hand to her stomach and oh so gently pressed her backward. Warm sensation coursed through his body. He stifled a groan. Holy cow, she felt so good.
She's so short, so petite, I'll bet I can toss her over my shoulder without breaking a sweat.
Alice dropped her arm. Something akin to a sigh escaped her, and Mark completely agreed. He wrapped his right arm around her, fully tucking her into an embrace. This time he bent his head and buried his nose into her hair.
Wow, I could get used to this.
On the heels of that thought, he sent up a quick prayer that a potential relationship with her would work out.

She smelled like a mixture of peaches and flowers.
I think I'm in big trouble.
Having her so close, thinking halfway intimate thoughts about her had things tightening behind his fly.
Yup, I'm in big,
big
trouble.

Clearing his throat, he released her and stepped away. “Well, we can always work on your casting skills later.”

Obviously, if he was going to make fishing lessons a side business, getting this close to clients was
not
on the agenda.