Chapter 33
MILES
“I think I’ve got one!” Seth called out in high-pitched excitement, jumping up and down on the river bank. His fishing rod bent dramatically toward the water as I looked over.
I dropped my own rod and went to him. Booker beat me to it, and Ryder and Ward flanked us a second later, the four of us surrounding Seth.
Mark watched from his folding chair, brow raised and lips quirked with interest.
“Take it easy,” Booker advised. “You’ve gotta be gentle.”
“It’s probably the trout’s first time,” Ward put in.
Seth poked his tongue out without taking his eyes off his fishing line or the way it was creating ripples in the water as something tugged on it. If it was a trout, it looked like a big one.
“Just don’t end up in the river,” Ryder added, nudging me with his elbow.
“I’ll have you know that I was school swimming champion like four years in a row,” Seth said. That was brand new information, but I’d stopped being surprised when I found out surprising things about Seth. Everything about him seemed to be surprising.
“I still don’t recommend it,” Booker warned. “Not in that outfit.”
I was wearing the first pair of jeans I’d ever owned, gifted to me by Booker when I’d asked if we could go trout fishing again, a pair of hiking boots Ward had ordered a size too small by mistake, and one of Booker’s old flannel shirts.
The collar smelled of him, woody and musky and a tiny bit of stale beer.
I’d trade it out for a different one when the smell faded.
Seth, on the other hand, was wearing booty shorts, a crop top that said Princess on it in diamantes that caught the sunlight, and a pair of sunglasses that covered half his face. I didn’t understand how he wasn’t freezing. Or worried about being bitten by every bug in a three-mile radius.
“Do we need a net?” Ward asked, also watching the water.
“Grab it,” Booker said. “We’ll want it if he manages to reel it in.”
“If,” Seth scoffed. “Excuse you. We’re having trout for dinner and then you’ll all have to say thanks for catching this huge fish, Seth.”
“You gonna gut and scale it?” Ryder asked, brow raised.
Seth finally took his eyes off the river for a second to roll them at Ryder. “Of course. I used to work in a restaurant,” he said. “Fish are easy.”
“I thought you were a waiter,” Ward said.
We’d all heard the story of how Seth and Mark had met at a vineyard where Mark had been on a corporate team building wine tour.
Seth had chewed out Mark’s least favorite colleague and thrown her out for being rude.
He’d, naturally, fallen in love at first sight.
“He knows his way around a kitchen,” Mark put in from his chair. “I’m a lucky man.”
“And you’re the only one—shit,” Seth leaned back as the rod pulled, bending into a dramatic arc. “Someone tell me what to do!”
“You gotta tire it out. Lower the rod and hold it kinda sideways,” Booker said, calm and steady as ever. “Puts less pressure on the line, so he won’t snap it.”
“He?” Ryder asked.
Booker shrugged. “Or she.”
“I think it’s a she,” Seth put in. “A man wouldn’t fight me like this.”
Ward snorted, clapping a hand on Seth’s shoulder as he lowered the rod as instructed. Ryder rested his head against Ward’s shoulder, watching the line as the surface of the lake rippled around it.
Booker took a step back, falling into place beside me as we both watched Seth fight with his fish. His arm fell around my shoulders, tucking me against his side. “Pull up and start reeling,” he said. “Don’t let the line go slack or it’ll get away. They’re smart.”
“Not smarter than me,” Seth insisted.
“Maybe a little smarter than him,” Booker murmured in my ear.
“I heard that!” Seth called back. I laughed, breathing in the scents of pine, damp earth, the river, and the clean cotton of Booker’s shirt.
“Having fun?” Booker asked.
I laughed again. “You know, I am,” I said honestly.
“Who would’ve thought the guy who showed up in tweed and Oxfords and couldn’t change his own tire would’ve been setting up fishing trips a couple of months later. You’re barely recognizable.”
“They were brogues,” I corrected.
Booker chuckled. “Excuse my ignorance of men’s footwear. Point is, you’ve come a long way.”
“I was reading The Velveteen Rabbit the other day,” I said. Now that I was staying, I was determined to become a subject expert in children’s books. “And first of all it turns out that I really like children’s books about rabbits, apparently.”
Booker laughed again, pressing a kiss to my hairline. “And second?”
I shrugged. “Well… I dunno. It made me think, y’know, about love.
About how being loved, really loved, changes you.
Has to change you. And then later in the day you were reading to the kids and you looked up at me and smiled.
I don’t know if you remember. It wasn’t a special moment or anything.
It just hit me then how loved I am. I wouldn’t have been watching the kindest, most wonderful man in the world read to kids with my heart swelling a few months back, but I was then.
I was unrecognizable to myself, but I also felt… like me.”
“Yeah?” Booker asked, his hold on me tightening a little.
“I was so jealous of how comfortable you seemed in your own skin when I arrived,” I said. “Because I felt so uncomfortable. But now… I feel real. Like the rabbit.”
“I’m glad to—
“Grab the net!” Seth interrupted, tugging on his fishing rod. “Here it comes!”
The splash filled the air, water droplets glistening in the fall sunlight peeking out between the clouds as whatever Seth had hooked burst out of the water.
Ward, ready with the net, got it under Seth’s catch with startling accuracy and reflexes while Ryder bounced on the balls of his feet, gripping Seth’s shoulder hard enough to shake him.
“Let me get a look at it,” Booker said, striding over.
I missed his warmth, but I loved seeing him be… Booker. Responsible and practical and steady even when no one else was. I was so lucky to have him.
“I told you I’d land it,” Seth said as Booker peered down at it.
Booker’s brows rose. Without a word, he reached into the net, fearless.
And pulled out a rotting boot.