The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman 2)

My cheeks flamed.

His lips twisted for a beat. “Not as good as you touch me, but it suffices.”

Dirty talking in the parking lot of McDonald’s. Who did that?

We did.

It wasn’t something you could put on a dating app. The things that really made two people click were not something anyone would ever even think to put on a dating app.

“Twelve across. A bird’s wishbone.”

Fisher blinked once. Once! “Merrythought.”

“I hate you.” I turned and stomped my way to the driver’s side of my car.

His soft chuckle followed me, and before I could shut my door, he planted his body in its way and ducked his head, putting his big, arrogant mug in my face. “Nine down. Extravagant boasting.”

I didn’t know, so remained silent so he’d think I didn’t care.

“First letter is G, fourth letter is C.”

I still didn’t know.

“Gasconade.” He kissed my mouth, but I didn’t kiss him back. “I liked you. Five years ago … I liked you.”

My anger subsided, being replaced with curiosity. Why did he say that?

“You knew I liked crossword puzzles. That’s why you mentioned it. You were trying to jog a memory. But I hadn’t forgotten about my love of crossword puzzles. I also hadn’t forgotten that I didn’t tell people about it. But you knew. That’s why you made them for me. That’s why you tease me with twelve across. I liked you. That’s the only reason I would have told you. I liked you a lot. I wouldn’t have told you had I not liked you a lot. Because Angie knows I won spelling bees, but she’s never mentioned the puzzles. She’s oblivious to it, which means I never told her. So … the question I have for you is … did you know I liked you?”

I met his gaze that was just inches from mine. “I wasn’t in Denver that long. And I knew Angie. We went on a triple date. Remember? I told you that. And I met Teagan. She was an orthodontist. Remember her?”

He shook his head, eyes narrowed.

“Well, you slept over at her place more than once.”

“Then there was Tiffany the interior designer. Remember her? Rose fixed you up with her.”

Another slow head shake.

“I met your harem. I knew you enjoyed your women. So what do you think? Do you think your friend’s daughter, the eighteen-year-old virgin living in your basement, knew that you liked her? Do you think you took time out of your sex life to bond with her over crossword puzzles?”

“Yes.” He nodded slowly.

He was so close to remembering. I just wanted him to do it. I wanted to be there when he remembered more about me than my Happy Meal deliveries. I wanted him to say “I loved you.” I didn’t want to tell him that he loved me. So I gave him the inch he was searching for, maybe the inch, the nudge he needed.

“I was having a rough day. You took me to your parents’ house and showed me your boxes of crossword puzzles. Nerd status on full display. So if that meant you liked me …” I shrugged. “Then I guess you liked me.”

Fisher did that squinting thing, a painful expression. His brain tried so hard to remember, to repair the connections, to bring back the images and the emotions that went with them. “I liked you so much … I hate that I can’t remember that feeling. But it’s the only explanation. I must have been scared out of my mind to tell you. Or maybe it was Rory. She would have killed me. We’ve seen that.”

I bit the inside of my cheek while returning a single nod, trying to hide my disappointment.

He liked me a lot.

Was that emotionally a step above getting Angie pregnant? Puzzles over a baby?

“I’m going to go home and think about this.”

“Okay.” I drew in a breath and held it along with all my emotions.

“If I don’t get to see you before Thanksgiving, have a good one.”

“Yeah, thanks. You too.”

“Love you.”

I nodded as my heart ached.

Tell him!

It was such an agonizing predicament. Tell him and feel heartbroken when he didn’t remember. Don’t tell him and drown in the anxiety of wanting him to know. Angie told him everything or nearly everything and she received zero satisfaction in return.

“Love you.” I slid my hand into his hair and leaned forward, pressing my lips to his.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I had to make an actual trip to Target after McDonald’s with Fisher so I didn’t show up empty handed. It wouldn’t have mattered. Rose and Rory had a much better distraction sitting at the kitchen with an open bottle of wine and three glasses.

“Hey,” I said with fake enthusiasm after preparing myself when I saw her vehicle.

Three women in yoga pants, sweaters, and fuzzy socks. Three women with their hair in various ponytail positions. And not a speck of makeup.