The Naked Fisherman (Fisherman 1)

“I fell in love once. And the timing was all wrong. But love doesn’t care. Your heart doesn’t understand. And the scariest part is you want to believe that someday it will work, but you don’t know. You just don’t know. Will patience be rewarded? Will God answer your prayers with the answers you want? You tell yourself that if it’s meant to be … it will be.” She pushed a long breath out of her nose and offered a weak smile. “And sometimes the answer is yes. But sometimes the answer is no. So the most you can do is find love and life in every day. The one thing I can promise you is that life rarely goes in the direction we think it will. And that’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s the most amazing surprise.”

My gaze affixed to Fisher on the porch. He was the most amazing surprise.

“I want to have this conversation with my mom. There have been so many moments over the past five years that I’ve thought, ‘I need my mom.’ And now she’s here, but I can’t talk to her. And I hate it because he didn’t take advantage of me. It wasn’t like that. And I know what you said about him being a man whore, but that wasn’t who he was with me.”

Rose gave me a look like she didn’t entirely believe me. Or maybe she believed that I believed what I said, but it was just my foolish heart, my naive eighteen-year-old brain blinded by my first real crush.

“Well, I’m glad that’s not who he was with you. That at least shows he had a little respect for Rory, but it’s not enough for her to overlook the obvious. He’s twenty-eight and you’re eighteen. He should have known better. He should have had self-control.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t all him. Despite what everyone seems to think, I do have the ability to make grown-up decisions. Maybe I’m the one who pursued him.”

Rose lifted two sharp-peaked eyebrows. “Did you?”

With frustration filling my head and rekindling my anger, I shook my head. “I … I don’t know. It just … happened.”

“I know it’s not the same, but I’m here if you want to talk more.”

“It’s … fine. I’m good.” I was the opposite of good. Still, I couldn’t believe how quickly things flipped. One minute he was tearing at my clothes and biting my nipples, and the next … we were in his parents’ basement as he revealed to me why we were perfect for each other.

One minute my mom was braiding my hair—the next she was being hauled off in handcuffs.

One minute my dad was eating pasta with me at our favorite restaurant—the next he was dead.

I really didn’t trust life.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Do you have everything packed?” Rory seemed concerned about my big two-night trip to Texas. “If they ask how things are going here, what are you going to say?”

I rolled my carry-on suitcase out of the bedroom. “Are you chewing your nails?”

Rory jerked her hand away from her mouth. “No.”

“Why do you seem so panicked?”

She sighed, blowing her hair out of her face. “It’s just that I know they think I’m a complete failure, and I don’t want them thinking I’m a bad influence because I’ve tried to do things right. Ya know? I mean, I let you have a little sangria, but I’ve tried to make sure you have everything you need. And Fisher has been so great at helping watch out for you too. I just want them to know that.”

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes. It made no sense. They couldn’t take me away from her.

Pressing her fingers over her closed eyes, she grumbled. “Ugh … it’s just that they used to like me. I went out of my way to impress them. And I don’t care what they think of me, but I know they have influence over you, probably way more than I do. And I don’t want them to persuade you to move back to Texas because…” she pushed out her lower lip “…I’m selfish. I want you with me for as long as you’re willing to stay. It’s not that I think I can make up for the years I was gone, but I want the chance to be your mom again. Really be your mom.”

I held out my arms and hugged her. “I’m going to tell them that it’s been great. You bake and cook. You’re appropriately overprotective. You don’t go to church with me, but they don’t need to know that.”

“I love you, Reese. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world. I always have and I always will.”

I released her and grabbed my bag in one hand and my suitcase in my other hand. “I love you too.” It was the first time I had said that to her in over five years. It felt right. It felt true.