Page 18 of You Shouldn't Have Come Here

I scanned the page quickly. I hadn’t read a damn single word of this thing. “Not really,” I settled on. “Got any plans for the day?”

She crossed her ankle in front of the other. “Relaxing, reading, maybe go for a run.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How about some fishing?”

“Calvin Wells, are you trying to turn me into a country girl?” she teased.

I folded up the newspaper and placed it in the center of the table. There she went saying my full name again, sending a shiver right down my spine. I sat tall in my chair. “I just might be.” I nodded.

“Well, I’d like that.” She brought the mug to her mouth again and sipped.

I stood and pushed in my chair. “Go and get your proper dirty clothes on, and I’ll meet you down by the river with the gear.”

She started toward her bedroom, calling over her shoulder, “It’s a date.”

A flush crept up on my cheeks and my heart rate quickened again as I watched her pad down the hallway. Her nightgown just barely covered her backside. I never wanted to see her walk away from me again.

“You’ve got to put a worm on the hook, silly,” I joked.

Grace dropped the line right in the water without casting it or putting anything on it. Her cheeks flushed as she reeled it back in. She was dressed in short shorts, cowboy boots, and a black tank top. I was sure there was nothing underneath it either. Grace definitely made an effort to make herself look good. Her lips were pink and glossy, her lashes long and dark, and her hair was slightly curled.

“A worm?” She crumpled up her face as she reeled the remainder of the line in.

“Yes, ma’am. You ain’t gonna catch much without it.” I set my pole down and grabbed the little tub of worms beside the tackle box. I pulled out a long, thick one covered in dirt. It squirmed as I tore it in half. I tossed part of it back in the container and held it out for Grace. The other half of it still wiggled. The tail end would die shortly, so I always used that part first. The half with the brain would survive and could generate a new tail if given the time.

“Here you are.”

She shook her head and pointed the tip of the rod toward me. Grace made her blue, blue eyes extra big and her lips extra pouty. “Will you put it on?” Her voice wasbaby-like, and she was definitely working me to get her way, but I didn’t mind.

“Of course, I will.” I smiled. “With anything in life, you gotta have bait to catch it. The trick is to get it all the way through from end to end, so it can’t get off the hook.” I poked one end of the worm and threaded it so there was just a half inch hanging off the end. She watched me intently. Her eyes followed my fingers. I thought for sure she’d look away during this part, but she was interested in learning. “This will ensure no fish snags your worm clean off the hook before you get a chance to catch it.”

“There you are.” I let the hook fall from my hands. “See, it can still wiggle but it can’t get off the hook. That’s the key. Now, you’re gonna cast it in.”

Grace held the pole in front of her and faced the river. She flicked her wrist forward, but she didn’t open the bail. The threaded worm just spun in circles. She tried again a little harder this time, but once again the line didn’t release. I folded my arms in front of my chest and watched her try over and over, and then I let out a husky laugh.

“Are you laughing at me, Calvin?” She squinted and pursed her lips, but her face was soft.

“I would never.” I stood a few feet behind her. “Want some help?”

She smiled and nodded. Taking a couple steps to her, I felt her back up, pressing her butt right into me. A big whiff of hersweet-smellinghair made its way to my nose as I wrapped my arms around her. I put one hand over hers on the handle and one hand over the other on the reel foot with a finger on the bail arm.

“The key is to flick your wrists quickly, and when you cast forward, you open the bail.”

Grace nodded. She took another small step into me, and I nearly dropped the pole.

“Also, make sure you hold on to the pole firmly.” I laughed.

I created a slight bend in my elbow, guiding her with me, and then flicked my wrist forward, releasing the bail. The hook cast through the air, clean across the river.

“I did it,” she said with a slight bounce.

“You did.” I took my hands off, giving her full control, and stepped back.

“Thanks.” She threw a glance over her shoulder at me.

“Anytime, Grace. Now, reel it in slow, and if you feel a tug, you’ll want to pull up on the pole quick and with force so you hook the fish. Then, you bring him in. The key to catching anything is patience though.” I put my hands in my pockets and watched her slowly reel the line in. When she finished, she cast it just like I taught her—a perfect cast. I could watch her all day. She was persistent as she turned the handle, concentrating on the feeling of the rod in her hands. Each time she cast the hook back in the water, her face lit up. That was the thing about fishing. Every cast was a new possibility of a great catch.

I grabbed two Bud Lights from the cooler and popped them open with a bottle opener. I handed one to her just as she was reeling her line in again.

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