The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman 2)

“I’m not bored. In fact, I finished one of the crossword puzzles while waiting for you.”

Tossing him a quick glance, my eyes narrowed. “You didn’t. They weren’t easy puzzles.”

“Maybe not to you.” He stared out his window and shrugged.

He left me speechless for a few blocks.

“I need gas.” I pulled into a gas station. After filling the tank, I ran inside to get something.

Fisher eyed me and the drink in my hand when I returned.

“For you.” I handed him the plastic cup filled with red liquid.

“What is this?”

“Iced tea and fruit punch.” I handed him a straw too. “Your favorite.”

He ripped open the straw and poked it into the lid. “It is? How do I not remember things I like and dislike? Do I have food allergies? Will shellfish kill me? I mean … I don’t know.” He took a sip. “But what I do know is this is really good. I clearly knew my shit.”

I grinned, putting the car into Drive. “Easy partner. Your head’s getting too big.”

He took another long sip. “What else should I know about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I know everything about that Angie girl because she’s told me everything. She’s AB blood type. Allergic to walnuts. Scared of spiders. And she cries easily.”

I laughed. “Well, hmm … I’m O-positive. No allergies. You already know I don’t like peanut butter. Spiders are okay. I like my coffee extra sweet. And I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“I watch a lot of TV. It’s a distraction from the stranger living with me.”

“The stranger you had sex with last night.”

“Yes, to prove that my dick worked and to get her to stop being so weird.”

I giggled. “Weird? What do you mean by weird?”

“She’s constantly watching me. It’s creepy. And she’s too … cheery. Not like you.”

“Whoa … not like me?”

“No. You’re selectively happy. Which is normal in my mind. Like you are who you are. You could hate puppies and rainbows and not give a shit what anyone thinks about it.”

“I …” I shook my head. Was that how he saw me? “I do not hate puppies. But rainbows are a little overrated.”

His shoulders shook on a light chuckle as he sucked on the straw.

“I do like learning new things, and you taught me how to sand wood. Nothing too hard, but I asked you to teach me things, and you did. I still like hands-on things.”

“I taught you things? Sanding?”

I nodded.

“In my workshop?”

Another nod.

“Huh …” He seemed perplexed.

“Is that surprising?”

“I think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been told by more than one person that I like to do my own thing. I hire people who already know what they’re doing. I’m not much of a teacher. I don’t have enough patience.”

“Mmm …” I nodded. “They might be right. And I said you taught me. I didn’t say you were patient with me. I’m sure you indulged me just to be nice to Rory.”

Fisher hummed. “Maybe,” he murmured.

We pulled into Target. “Are you staying in the car? I only have a few things to grab.” Tampons. I needed tampons. And deodorant.

“No. I have my own list of things to get.” He climbed out of the vehicle.

After we walked into the store, he grabbed a shopping cart while I plucked a basket from the stack.

“You can just put your stuff in my cart.”

“Or you can get the stuff on your list and I can get the stuff on my list, and we can meet back here when we’re done.”

“What’s the rush? I don’t have to work. You don’t have to work. We might as well walk the aisles and let the end displays tell us what we didn’t know we needed,” said the guy who dragged me in and out of an apparel store in record time when I needed boots and a hard hat.

Surrendering to the fact that I’d be making a second trip that day to get my tampons, I slid my basket back into the stack and followed Fisher’s lead.

“So what are you getting?” I asked.

“What are you getting? Show me your list and I’ll show you mine.”

I rolled my eyes, despite my grin and complete feeling of bliss. “My list is in my head.”

“Mine too.”

I giggled as we strolled through the electronics aisles. “Then how are you going to ‘show’ me your list?”

“I assumed you could read my mind. You know … since you guessed my favorite drink.”

“I didn’t guess.” I playfully nudged his good arm as we crossed over into the cards and party stuff.

“Did you get lots of birthday parties when you were a kid?” He grabbed a big party hat from a tall stack and set it on my head.

I kept walking down the aisle with the hat on my head. “I got lots of parties since I was an only child, until Rory went to prison. Mostly Disney princess parties. What about you?” I snagged a funny pair of glasses that had a big nose and mustache attached to them. Then I slipped it onto Fisher’s face.