His Curvy Enemy - Curvy Girl Dating Agency

I wasn’t sure if she planned to torture me with her silence, because we’d been drifting on the water for the past fifteen minutes in total silence. Eva leaned back in the boat, sunglasses shielding her eyes, saying nothing to me. Eventually, she sat up and stretched, looking around completely oblivious to the way my eyes tracked her every move. “This is a nice surprise, Oliver. Wouldn’t have pegged you for the fishing type.”

I smiled back at her, happy to be the one surprising her for once. “Not a faithful reader of my column? I’m hurt.” She laughed when I clutched my chest in fake pain.

“This may come as a shock to you, but I’m not looking to stay single for the rest of my life. I just refuse to settle, is all.” Her words held no sting and no judgment, so I didn’t take offense. “Take that little bend,” she instructed.

“You moonlight as a fishing expert or something?”

She shrugged. “Not an expert, no. But I spent many summer mornings fishing with my cousin Antonio and his dad when we were kids. Little nooks like that, I’ve learned, always have plenty of fish.”

Another detail that made up the incredible woman that was Eva Vargas. I shifted the boat around the bed, curious to see more of this side of this intriguing woman. “Here we are.”

Eva nodded and once we were stopped, she capably took care of her own fishing rod and bait, opting for bobbles instead of worms. “Perfect.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of worms, they can’t bite you.”

That earned me a glare. “I’m not afraid of worms, but it’s unnecessary for them to die just for me to catch a fish.” With those words, she cast her pole perfectly, no help needed, while I lagged behind, too busy watching her. “I’ll bet you used worms to terrify girls when you were a kid.”

“Nah, I preferred to play the hero against the guys who did that. Worked much better, I found.”

Eva’s laugh was loud and husky before she remembered where we were and what we were doing, and she smacked a hand over her mouth comically. “No wonder you’re so successful. You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“For the same reason you learn about mascara and carbs to catch a mate.”

“Only your goal is to not catch a mate, right?” Her tone was playful, but I had a feeling she was asking a much deeper question.

“Exactly. Same skills, just applied differently.”

“Right.” Her tone was even and emotionless, but I knew she wasn’t pleased with my answer. Things were different between us, even I could feel it, but they weren’t all that different. “I got one!”

Before I could stand to help Eva reel the fish in, she had it in the cooler with her pole re-baited and already back in the water. “Good job. It’s a nice size, too.”

“The river that runs along Tulip has some big fat trout, so juicy and flavorful,” she said as another fish caught the line and she reeled in it. “Great fishing today, Oliver!” Her smile was beautiful, it lit up the whole damn sky and I couldn’t look away.

“Great fishing for you,” I grumbled, making her laugh.

“Want some pointers?”

“No,” I grunted, but instead of being offended, Eva only shrugged and did a terrible job of hiding her amused smile.

“Suit yourself,” she said and dipped her pole back in the water. “So, is there some big heartbreak in your past that keeps you from love, or are you just an old-fashioned cynic?”

It was a common assumption, but it was wrong. “Nope. No big heartbreak to speak of. There were a few relationships, a couple that lasted longer than a year, but they weren’t really serious. At some point, they had just run their course, I guess.” The women weren’t upset and neither was I. We both just kind of… moved on.

“Then I take you at your… word,” she said tightly and then whooped loudly. “Yeah! I got another one!” Her smile was the only thing that could have taken the sting out of getting out-fished by a girl—and not just any girl, a prissy girl who wore dresses nearly every damn day of the week.

“Wow. Good job.”

“Thanks. Should I back off to preserve your ego?”

“Hell no, it’s hot as hell that you can fish. Never had a fishing buddy I could make out with,” I told her and tugged on her arm.

“If that’s your distraction technique, then I wholeheartedly approve.” She laughed and fell into my lap, her four fish already forgotten as my lips crashed down on hers. “Totally approve,” she moaned when the kiss ended.

“Good.” I couldn’t deny that it felt good, the way Eva melted into my arms and my kiss, the way she seemed to lose all control when I touched her. It was intoxicating, addicting, and I now understood why some men went back again and again to women like her.