4. Even if He is a Sexy Fisherman #2
Matthew snaps his fingers and points at me. “Bingo.”
“Sorry?”
He pats his mouth with a napkin. “You are going to find out information, which, I grant you, is important information to have. And then you’re going to give it to the government, who will, under the guise of helping, put more restrictions on us and interfere with the way we do things. Make sense?”
I know as well as anyone the government is fallible.
And that’s putting it lightly. Do they actually have our best interests at heart?
Debatable. However, the Environmental Protection Agency is one of the better branches of the government.
I trust them more often than I don’t, which you can’t say for the IRS.
“Don’t you feel you’re already being restricted though, based on what’s happening with the coho populations? ”
“Of course we do. I mean, many of us used to work one fishing season a year. One. Now to make ends meet, we have to go out on the boat for longer and longer. That’s hard on us and our families.”
I smile, unable to contain my excitement that we’re on a similar page. “Exactly! That’s not fair to you all. You deserve to be able to make ends meet and more without the expense of your family.”
Matthew shifts in his seat, leaning in closer to me. “But if you all come in here with your recommendations, and you tell us we have to stop fishing for coho to get the numbers back up, that doesn’t change what we need to live on.”
“I—” God, this is way more complicated than I’d like it to be. “I suppose, but?—”
“Coho goes for more money. So, while our numbers might be lower overall, it’s still a significant portion of our income. How do we make up for that in the meantime?” Matthew gestures to present the answer. “More time on the water. More fishing. More time away.”
I’m at a loss for what to say. I have plenty of arguments, sure, but none of them have the pathos his do. At least not pathos he’ll hear. The plight of coho salmon surviving and thriving is a formidable one. But how does that stack up to a fisherman trying to explain the livelihood of a community?
He smiles, solemn and sympathetic. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time.
I’m just trying to give you the Cliff Notes of how things work around here.
We need to do things on our terms.” Matthew pinches two fingers together and taps the counter.
“And that’s important to us. Okay? We don’t have a lot, but we work our asses off to take care of what we do. ”
“I don’t doubt it,” I reply.
“So, when someone like you comes in here . . .” Matthew gestures to me, his hand swiping through the air like an artist’s paintbrush. “No matter how polite and pretty?—”
Did he just call me pretty?
“It’s our natural and earned inclination to be suspicious, standoffish, and, if I’m honest . . . ” Matthew leans in closer to me. We’re much too close for strangers. “Try and run you out of town.”
I gasp, a mixture of shock and delight at his closeness.
Matt backs off much too quickly for my liking. “Not me, of course. But Lillian, no one is going to give you a boat and help you out with your project.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “So, you are trying to run me out of town.”
“I’m not, I swear, but?—”
“Then, let me pay you to take me out on the rivers, so I can get my samples.”
Matthew freezes and watches me for a moment with those stunning brown eyes. A smile creeps across his lips. “I can’t do that.”
“Then, you’re just like the rest of them,” I say. My turn to take a bite of my gloopy oatmeal and make him wait.
Matthew looks off, his mouth ajar, like he knows the beginning of what he wants to say, but not the ending. Finally, he looks down and laughs. “They’d give me hell if I took you out on my boat.”
“That’s fine,” I say. “I’m not leaving until I’m done with the project anyway.
I’ll figure out a way to get out there.” I sound a lot more confident than I actually am.
“I don’t back away when it comes to my work, Matthew.
Because it matters. It really matters. Not just to me.
But to the whole world, even if they don’t know it. ”
He settles his teeth into his lower lip. It’s almost utterly sexual, so I focus on my oatmeal to keep from being distracted. I can tell he is thinking about something, and he is taking his time responding. “Okay, tell you what. I can’t help with my boat, but I could take you out in my plane.”
“You have a plane?”
“More common than you’d think around here.”
“So, how will going up in your plane help me when I need a boat?”
Matthew leans back in his seat, spreading his legs wide.
He’s so masculine it hurts. “Well, I’m running an errand in Dillingham.
You could get a view of the entire bay and the rivers.
It could give you an idea of the area, what you’re working with, and help you come up with a plan for how you get that boat. ”
I stick my tongue into my cheek. What I need is a boat.
Not a plane. But his offer isn’t nothing.
And besides, if he’s offering me time with him one-on-one, maybe I can soften him.
Not with my feminine wiles, no. But maybe, if I can get him to see I’m a human who really cares, he’ll give me a bit more rope to work with. “Okay. When do we leave?”
Matthew’s eyebrows jump slightly like he’s surprised I agreed. Then, he smiles.
And that’s a smile I’d like to bottle up and save forever.