The Naked Fisherman (Fisherman 1)

“Anytime.”

“Don’t say it unless you mean it.” I smirked. “The last time you said ‘anytime,’ I took you seriously and ended up in your tub when you brought your date home.”

His lips twisted as he returned a slow nod. “Mmm … yes. You did.”

“Well …” I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Fisher kept nodding slowly, his backside leaned against one of the workbenches, his hands slightly tucked into his front pockets.

Basically … irresistible.

“Rory comes home this week,” he said.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry if I did anything that made you feel—”

“No!” I didn’t mean to cut him off so quickly. It was a knee-jerk reaction. “You … you haven’t done anything wrong. You didn’t make me feel anything but … good.”

Make it feel good.

“And…” I couldn’t help my grin “…a little crazy.”

He stared at his feet. “So we’re … good? Friends. What happened, happened and we move on. No big deal?”

The biggest deal of my eighteen years—well, the good kind of big deal. It was hard to top Rory going to prison and my dad dying for life-changing, catastrophic events.

“Friends,” I said just above a whisper. “No big deal … we’re … good.” Someone needed to use some sandpaper on my heart because it felt rough and splintered.

The next morning, I woke up to a text from Fisher.

You’re with Hailey today, drive your mom’s car.

He’d sent the text an hour before my alarm went off.

Hailey had me enter bids into the computer and deliver lunches. Then she had me file—my least favorite job.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I asked her.

“Sure,” she said slowly without a glance up from her computer screen.

“Did you like sex the first time you had it?”

Her fingers stilled, and her gaze lifted to meet mine. “Did you just have sex for the first time?”

“No.”

“Have you had sex?”

“Not really.”

Hailey laughed. “Oh my god, ‘not really’ is not an answer.” Her smile faded when she realized I wasn’t finding anything that amusing. “Sorry. My first time … god … I don’t remember much. Isn’t that pathetic? I don’t recall it being great. But I didn’t have the most considerate man—boy actually—exerting any effort to make it great. He didn’t know it was my first time until it was over.”

“Was he mad?”

“Mad? What do you mean?”

“That it was your first time and you didn’t tell him?”

“No.” She chuckled. “Why?”

I shrugged and shook my head.

“You know you can tell me anything. Right? If you have guy problems, I’m your girl. I’ve had every guy problem imaginable. Cheaters. Married men. Assholes. Narcissists. Stalkers.”

My eyebrows peaked as I stopped filing. “Seriously?”

“Oh yes. You name it. I’ve probably experienced it or have a friend who did.”

“Have you been with older men?”

“Yes. Well … how old? I don’t date grandpas, even if they are rich.”

“I don’t know … five … ten years older?”

“Sure. You like an older man?”

“Maybe.”

The office door opened and Fisher stepped inside, again sipping one of his big red drinks from a straw. “Hey,” he said to Hailey or me. Maybe both of us. “How’s it going today?”

“We’re about to clock out, Bossman. After I get done giving Reese some dating advice.”

I ducked my head and focused hard on the papers in front of me. Why did she say that?

“Oh yeah? What advice is that?” He slid behind me and opened the desk drawer to my right, dropping a set of keys into it.

His proximity raised the temperature in the room a good ten degrees.

“I’m not sure yet; you walked in and interrupted us.”

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Just do your thing and ignore us. As you were saying, Reese …”

I shook my head as Fisher lifted some of the papers around me like he was searching for something on his desk. “It’s not a big deal. We can talk later.”

“Don’t let me stop you. Maybe I can be of help. I’m a guy. So I know a lot about them.” Fisher found a folder and turned, resting his butt on the edge of the desk.

I felt his gaze on me, but there was no way I could look at him.

“Yeah, ask Bossman. He’s a walking example of failed relationships.” Hailey giggled.

“Then he’s definitely not the one I need to ask,” I murmured.

“Reese was asking me about dating older men. You’ve dated plenty of women younger than you. What’s your take on it?” Hailey asked Fisher.

I didn’t want in on the conversation. I didn’t even want to be in the same state as they talked about me or my dating life.

“I think Reese needs to find herself a nice Christian who can make her feel good about herself and her decisions.”

“No.” Hailey drummed her fingernails on the desk. “That’s a terrible idea. You’re eighteen. You have to live. Don’t settle for safe and boring.”