Chapter 6

“A man who doesn’t spend time with his family can never be a real man.”

Don Corleone, The Godfather

Ronan locked the lid down on the old cooler, then lifted his arm in a wave that neither Jessie nor Kate saw, because they were both wrapped around his brothers.

“We’re not going off to war,” he grumbled. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for Finn or Liam, just grabbed his old olive-colored Tilley hat and headed out the front door. Two steps out, he stopped. Who the hell…Was that Hope down there? Of course it was; even facing away from him, her collar turned up, and her hair braided and tucked down the back of her slicker, there was no doubt it was her. Who else carried a bag that big?

But why the hell was she there? Surely to God she wasn’t…

“Shit.” The curse had barely left his lips before his brothers came crashing out the door, tripping over each other and grinning like the idiots they were. “What’s she doing?”

“What d’you mean?” Finn slapped him on the shoulder as he pushed past him. “She’s coming with us. Didn’t you know?”

“No,” Ronan mumbled. “I didn’t.”

“Hmm.” Liam snorted as he pushed by. “We did.”

His brothers might not mind when Jessie and Kate made decisions without checking with them, but Ronan had spent far too many years having Mandy do the same thing to him. And, yeah, okay, sending someone fishing with them didn’t even come close to things Mandy used to do, like trading in their truck for a MINI, but still.

A heads-up would’ve been nice.

As Ro started down toward the dock, Hope turned, and even from that distance her smile made him forget why he’d been frowning. And as much as he looked forward to those rare times when it was just him and his brothers out on the water, he couldn’t deny it’d be nice to have someone else on the boat, someone who wouldn’t spend the whole day talking about Jessie and Kate.

Hope continued to smile brightly as Finn and Liam climbed onto the boat, but Ro’s foot had barely hit the dock when her smile vanished, leaving her looking a little dismayed. So his brothers got smiles and he got a frown. Great way to start the day.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he muttered. “But I’m coming, too.”

“What?”

Her frown deepened, as though her brain was trying to make sense of his words. And he knew the second they’d sunk in, because it was the same second he realized she hadn’t been frowning at him, she’d been frowning at his cooler.

With a sharp mental kick, Ro shook his head slowly and sighed. “Sorry, I thought—”

She didn’t even let him finish, just pointed at the cooler.

“I forgot to pack a lunch,” she said. “Do I have time to run up and grab something?”

Ronan couldn’t decide if the relief he felt was because she’d saved him from yet another apology or because her frown had nothing to do with him at all. Either way, he didn’t dwell on it; instead, he stopped right in front of her and cocked his brow toward the bulging bag hanging off her shoulder.

“You mean to tell me you’re not carrying a small grocery store in there?”

“Nooo,” she said, smoothing her hand down the front of the bag. “I mean, I have some crackers, of course. Some water. A couple granola bars.”

“And?”

Her smile returned slowly, a little guiltily, as color crept over her cheeks.

“Okay,” she conceded. “It’s possible I might be packing a bag of Skittles. Maybe a Snickers bar, too, but that’s it, nothing substantial. So if you can give me two minutes, I’ll run up and make a quick sandwich. I won’t be long.”

Ronan set the cooler down on the dock and flipped the lid open to reveal the overload Jessie had packed for them. “Your Snickers bar for a sandwich.”

“A whole Snickers for a PBJ?” Hope tipped her head to the right a bit and winced. “Throw in a couple pieces of—what is that, banana bread?—and we’ll talk.”

She didn’t even wait for him to answer, just wagged her brows as she climbed aboard and ducked inside the wheelhouse, leaving him staring after her until he finally remembered how to blink. By that time both Liam and Finn had come out onto the stern and were watching him with smug, knowing looks that Ronan would have loved to smack off their faces.

“Jeez, dude,” Finn chuckled quietly. “Liam and I can stay here if you need a little alone time.”

The only thing that saved Finn from a hard left hook was the fact that Ronan didn’t want to explain to Hope why he’d hit him. So instead he muttered the standard response he always used when he couldn’t come up with something better.

“Fuck off.”

The two of them thought that was hilarious for some reason, but before Ro could say or do anything else, Finn ducked back inside the wheelhouse with Hope and fired up the engine. There was enough space that they all could’ve fit, but as the boat pulled away from the dock, Ronan stayed right where he was, holding on to the railing and watching the Buoys fade in the distance.

Calling out some excuse to Hope about keeping the noise down inside, Liam pushed the door shut, then tipped his chin up at Ronan.

“So you and Hope, eh?”

“No,” he said, keeping his voice flat and his glare steady. “Not me and Hope.”

“Why not?”

“Why—” Ronan stopped and shook his head slowly. “Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?”

Liam just laughed. “What? She’s a nice girl.”

“Yeah? And you’re basing that on what—the fact that we’ve known her for four days?”

“Almost four and a half. And, hell, I’d only known Kate for five days before we hustled our way to the altar.”

“Uh-huh, and a couple hours later you hustled yourself to divorce court, so…”

“That’s because I was an idiot.” Liam’s grin dimmed for barely a second before it grew to its usual ridiculous size. “But look at us now.”

Yeah, okay, Ro couldn’t argue with that. Ten years after their quickie marriage and divorce, some crazy kind of coincidence brought the two of them back together, and it seemed as if nothing—nothing—was going to pull them apart again. Didn’t make a spit of sense to Ronan, because if there was one thing he and his brothers had learned over the years, it was that women didn’t stay with O’Donnells.

Finn and Liam seemed to have forgotten that lesson, but Ro hadn’t. Not even when Liam sighed one of those contented sighs he’d been releasing so many of lately.

“I’m just sayin’, Ro. If you like her, you should give it a chance. Maybe you’d stop being such a miserable old shit all the time.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Right, sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Liam’s snort was loud and harsh. “You’re a blazing ball of sunshine most days.”

Instead of telling Liam to fuck off, too, Ro let his glare do the talking, but Liam wouldn’t be put off.

“I know how you feel,” he said. “Hell, up until a year ago, Finn and I were right there with you, swearing we’d never hook ourselves to one woman, but now…”

He didn’t finish, just lifted his hands in resignation.

“Now you’re screwed.” Didn’t matter how Ro said it or how much he tried to convince himself it was true, he didn’t really believe that. He couldn’t, not when he was witness to how freakin’ happy his stupid brothers were.

“Call it whatever you like,” Liam said, his voice full of calm confidence. “But I wouldn’t go back to the way things were for anything. Finn and I found the women we were meant to be with, and you could, too, if you gave it a chance.”

“I did give it a chance,” Ro grunted. “And look how well that turned out.”

“Doesn’t count; Mandy wasn’t the right one for you.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Ro tried to blow it off, but Liam pressed on.

“So try again.”

“Yeah, right.” Ronan stared pointedly at his brother. “They’ll be playing hockey in hell before that happens.”

For a minute there, Ro thought he’d had the last word, but as Liam wrapped his hand around the doorknob and started to pull it open, he tipped an odd look at Ro and grinned again.

“Never say never, buddy.” Then he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, leaving Ronan alone on the stern of the boat.

Liam was out of his mind if he thought Ronan had what it took to go through that kind of shit again. No thanks. And in all honesty, he couldn’t see any sane woman wanting to cast her line his way, either.

Nope, he was good with the way things were in his life. He didn’t answer to anyone else, he could do what he wanted whenever he wanted, and he didn’t have to worry if every single thing he said or did was going to cause a fight.

It wasn’t as if he’d been celibate since his divorce, but he’d made damn good and sure that every woman he’d been with knew he was a card-carrying member of the catch-and-release program. If they were good with that, then he made sure they both had a good time for as long as they were together. But he also made damn good and sure that he was gone before anyone started thinking about them as anything other than temporary.

Liam was right about one thing, though: Hope did seem like a nice girl. Little weird, maybe, what with all those bizarre bits of trivia she knew and how she carried so much crap in that bag of hers, but for some reason, weird seemed to work on her.

Over the last few days, he’d seen her reach inside that damn bag and pull out a pair of pliers, a length of coaxial cable, a measuring tape, a handful of zap straps, and a bag of peppermints. What kind of woman carried shit like that around with her? And why the hell did it make him smile?

Because, just like Liam, Ro was an idiot, that’s why. Sure, Hope was a good-looking woman who had the crazy ability to render him stupid with little more than a smile, so how could he not be attracted to her? But already, after meeting her only four—no, four and a half—days ago, Ronan knew it was more than a physical thing.

He liked her. He didn’t want to, and God knew he couldn’t afford to, but he did. And why? Because when the news came in about Olivia, she stepped back and gave them room to sort themselves out instead of pushing forward with the schedule Luka had sent. Because she respected her crew enough to let them do their jobs without micromanaging them yet still made herself available for whatever they needed. Because she appreciated the fact that the Buoys was more than just a fishing lodge, it was their home, and she treated it that way.

Because, unlike Ronan, she hadn’t changed everything about herself to please someone else but instead had the courage to hold on to what she wanted and who she was. And because…well, shit, he didn’t even know what it was, but in the last four days, anytime he was near her, it was as if everything inside him calmed for that moment, making him feel less of the miserable old shit Liam said he was and more of the man he used to be. The man he wanted to be again.

Yeah, this was going to be a problem for a couple of reasons. Number one: He couldn’t actually remember the last time anyone had the ability to make him feel like that. And number two: Every other time he even so much as thought he might be starting to like a woman, he’d walked away, but he couldn’t do that this time, because she was going to be right there in his line of sight every day.

He shifted his stance so he could see through the window beside the door. Even though he couldn’t hear what was being said, by the way Finn and Liam were acting and the smile on Hope’s face, things must be going well.

Good. If he let those two do all or most of the talking, maybe he wouldn’t have to spend as much time alone with her. Yeah, that’d be good. His brothers were better at people stuff anyway, so while they entertained Hope, Ro set to work setting up his salmon rod.

He slid it out of its case and examined it inch by inch, making sure there were no cracks, dings, or scratches, before attaching one of his new flashtrap spinners to the line. If that little gold-colored gem did its job properly today, he’d limit out by lunch time.

Finn piloted the boat north through Fitzhugh Sound just as Ronan slid his rod into one of the holders and inhaled a long, deep breath. There was never any need for them to discuss where they’d go when they finally had a day out together; they always went to the same place.

Milbanke Sound was their place, the place Da used to take them every year, even after Maggie left. When they were kids, it was the one place they could go and pretend that none of the real shit had ever happened, that Maggie was still at the Buoys waiting for them, that Da wasn’t going to end up shit-faced when they got back, and that none of them were going to end up black and blue.

It was where they’d spread Da’s ashes last spring, and it was the one place they’d never taken guests, because…well, because it was their place. And yet here they were, cruising up the coast with Hope in tow.

As if she knew he was thinking about her, Hope stepped outside, closing the door behind her, but not before Ro caught Jessie’s voice crackling over the radio, no doubt doing her hourly check-in.

“Hey.” The wind caught her braid and whipped strands of it loose around her head like a tornado, until she managed to pull them back down. Just as she did, the boat came up on the wake left by the ferry they’d passed a couple of seconds ago.

“Hold on,” he warned, but he already knew it was too late.

The bow lifted off the first wave and came down hard, throwing Hope off-balance and sending her stumbling toward the hip-high railing. Having crashed into it himself a few times, Ro knew how unforgiving it was, so, in what turned out to be more of a scrambling dive rather than the casual couple of steps he’d planned, he managed to get himself between the rail and Hope just as she slammed face-first into his chest.

“Oof.” Grunting and slipping, she clutched the front of his jacket with both hands and tried to straighten, but the bow lifted and came down again, sending more water up and over the side before either one of them had found solid footing.

Laughing over a low curse, Ronan wrapped his right arm around her waist and dragged her up against him while he grabbed the railing with his left hand and steadied them through the next bump, hunching over a little to protect her from the water that crested over the side.

In the scramble, she’d let go of her braid, and even though those loose strands blew around both of them now, she hadn’t done anything to tame them again. Instead, she just laughed as she tucked her face between her fists and held on to Ro tighter.

Even through all their layers of clothes and jackets, it felt so freakin’ good to have her up against him like that. He could only imagine how much better it would feel to strip back some—no, all—of those layers and get skin to skin with her.

“I…uh…” She didn’t release her grip on him, but she lifted her face and blushed as she smiled up at him sheepishly. “Thank you.”

The boat bumped again, not nearly as hard as the first couple of times, though, so he could have—he should have—let her go and moved away. But now that he’d gotten a small taste of what she felt like, he wasn’t ready to do anything other than stand there holding on to her awhile longer, especially since she’d made no effort to uncurl her hands from his jacket.

He liked that; he liked it a lot, actually. He especially liked it when she stood there looking up at him as she ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, while the loose strands of her hair danced across his cheek.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, letting him go and backing away so she could wrangle her hair under control. “They’re misleading, those waves. They don’t look nearly as strong as they are.”

He started to reach for her again, to bring her back to where he wanted her, but in that moment he caught sight of Finn’s face grinning at him through the cabin window, and Ro instantly dropped his arm.

“Uh, yeah,” he muttered. “If you’re not ready for them…you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Laughing lightly, she spread her feet a little wider, rebalanced herself, then took a few seconds to retie her hair. “That’s better.”

No, it wasn’t, but Ro knew better than to let that thought slip out. Sure, it was better for her, but even if he stood right next to her, the only strands still whipping around were too short to reach him.

Shit. He needed to stop thinking about that.

“So how come you’re out here?” she asked. “It’s considerably less windy inside.”

“Yeah, but out here I don’t have to listen to those two.” He tipped his head toward the door, but Hope didn’t even turn; she just kept her gaze focused on him. And while part of him really liked that, it made the other part of him twitchy, because he didn’t want her seeing too much, didn’t want her to know that that was only part of it. The other part was that he’d been trying to keep his distance from her. So much for that.

“Nice try,” she said, smiling as she nodded slowly. “But I already know the truth.”

“Yeah?” God, his mouth was dry. “And what truth is that?”

“That you love those two more than anything in the world.”

Relief whooshed out of Ro on a loud snort. “The truth is they’re both idiots.”

“Maybe so,” she laughed. “But if I were to say that, you’d knock my teeth down my throat, wouldn’t you?”

“No.” He knew she was kidding, but he wasn’t, and it only took her about half a second to realize that.

“What if I was a guy?”

Ronan rocked his head from side to side for a second, then shrugged and—God, was he blushing again?—grinned.

Blinking away from him, Hope cleared her throat, then licked her lips and pointed to the green-headed mallard that bobbed along in the water, completely indifferent to the boat as it sped by.

“Did you know Donald Duck’s middle name is Fauntleroy?”

“Uh, no.” Ronan laughed quietly. “I didn’t, but I’ll keep it in mind in case I ever make it to Disneyland.”

“You’ve never been to Disneyland?”

Ro shook his head. “I take it you have?”

“Uh, yeah,” she scoffed. “Like three times! How do you grow up on the West Coast and never take a family vacation down to California?”

“Family vacations weren’t exactly high on Da’s list of things to do. He’d bring us up here for a week once a year, but other than that, if and when we left the Buoys, we went to the mainland, either to watch Liam play ball or to pick up supplies.”

For the first time since they’d pulled away from the dock, Ro started to feel like he always did when they came up here: full, content, relaxed.

“We’ve been coming here every year since Finn was old enough to hold a rod. The older we got, the harder it was to get us all together for that much time, so it’s dwindled down to this now—one day, maybe two, a year.”

The more he said, the more she paled.

“Oh my God.” Hope pressed her hands over her face for a second and groaned. “Jessie didn’t say anything about this being your one day. It is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Great—and here I am completely butting into it! Can we go back? Is it too late?” She started for the door, but Ronan caught her wrist and pulled her back.

It wasn’t as if he was touching her skin or anything, because clearly she’d dressed to ward off the early-morning chill she hated so much, but, just like before, there was something about touching her—any part of her—that fascinated him.

And she either didn’t notice or didn’t care, so he stayed right where he was.

“We’re not turning around, Hope. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” she cried. “I promised you we’d respect your privacy, and here I am blowing that to shit already!”

He didn’t know why that struck him as funny. Maybe it was because she was so earnest in her concern. Or maybe it was because he honestly didn’t mind that she was there with them on their first day of freedom that year.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If Jessie had told me this, I never would have come, especially since I—”

She’d been staring at it for the last couple of seconds, but it seemed as if she’d only just noticed his hand wrapped around her wrist. Instead of pulling it away, like Ro expected, she kept looking at it, as though she didn’t completely understand what it was that she was seeing. Even when Finn banked the boat to the left around the top of Campbell Island and sent them both a bit off-balance, she simply adjusted her stance but never once looked away.

“Since you what?” he prodded. “Hope?”

It took her a second to blink up at him, and going by the way she was frowning at him, he’d have guessed that her mouth and her brain were working on two completely different levels.

“Fish,” she finally said, scratching her head with her free hand. “I’ve never fished before.”

“Never?” It was as though a little burst of fireworks went off in Ro’s chest. There was nothing like watching someone fall in love with fishing, and he had zero doubt that Hope was going to love the hell out of it. “Then there’s no way we’re turning this boat around. Come here.”

He pulled a life jacket out of the bin, tossed it over by the door, then nudged her down until she was sitting on it with her back against the wall. And even though it pained him a little, he released her wrist, but only because he needed both hands to work.

After handing her one of the extra spinning rods they kept on board, Ronan sat cross-legged in front of her and explained the differences between the one in her hands and the bait-casting rod in his. Once she’d given them both a good going-over and had asked a few questions, he slid the rods into their holders, then set his tackle box in front of her and watched her eyes widen when he lifted the top.

Unlike Finn, who kept his shitload of gear in one of those overpriced backpack-type tackle boxes with umpteen pockets and zippers, or Liam, who kept his minimal amount of gear in an old coffee can, Ro kept everything he needed to catch salmon or halibut in a three-tier box.

And it didn’t matter that he already knew exactly what was in it; every time he opened the box up, he felt like a kid on Christmas morning again.

“May I?” Hope reached her hand toward the tricolored spoon lure on the top tier, but she stopped before she touched it and looked up at him, waiting for permission.

If he believed in shit like that, Ro would have sworn he fell in love with her right there. Instead, he just smiled and nodded.

“ ’Course.” And before he could say anything else, she began firing questions at him, wanting to know what the differences were between all the lures, what made him choose one over the other, why he had three different spools of line, what the pliers were for, and if he ever used live bait.

He forced himself to look away from her once in a while, but he could still feel her steady gaze on him as he answered each of her questions. A few days ago she could barely glance his way, and here she was now, studying him, listening to him, and smiling at him like…whew.

By the time Finn slowed the boat down out in the middle of Milbanke Sound, Hope had picked up almost everything in the box, turned it over in her hand, then put it back exactly where she’d found it.

“So I, um…I sort of told Kevin I was going to bring in a hundred-pound halibut today.” Her smile was part grimace, part eager enthusiasm. “What are the chances of that actually happening?”

“You? A hundred—” Ro snorted, then gave himself a mental kick and scrambled to say something—anything—that would bring back her fading smile. “I mean…uh…It’s just that we’re not going for halibut today. Yeah, that’s what I meant. But, sure, of course, if we were going for halibut, then…no question…that’d definitely happen. Absolutely.”

The more he blathered on, the wider she smiled, until Ro squirmed and looked away.

“Ronan.” She waited until he turned to her, then gave him what he assumed was supposed to be a stern look but wavered when her eyes crinkled. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

“Hell no,” he said, blurting it out over a laugh. “Anything’s possible, right? Maybe not probable but definitely possible.”

Why couldn’t he stop smiling at her? He tried to, especially when the door whooshed open beside them, but it was Hope who finally broke the connection and looked up at Liam.

“Ronan was just showing me his tackle.”

“Yeah,” Liam snorted. “I’m sure he was.”

Ro resisted the temptation to clock his brother but only because Hope didn’t seem to pay any mind to Liam’s remark.

“I’ve never fished before,” she said. “So he was—”

“Wait. What?” Liam’s hands froze in midair for a second, but before he could catch his breath, Finn was already there.

“Did she just say she’s never fished before?”

“No,” Hope said, then shook her head. “I mean, yes, I said that.”

Without even looking at each other, Finn and Liam bumped fists and let out whoops of joy. For the rest of the morning, the three of them took turns piloting the boat while the other two showed Hope how to cast, how to reel, and how to tie proper knots around her lures.

She did everything they told her to do, and yet when they reeled everything up at lunchtime, she was the only one without a fish in the cooler. Liam offered to let her reel in his next fish, but she refused.

“It doesn’t count if I don’t hook it myself,” she said.

Neither Liam nor Finn responded, but their nods and grins said everything, and no matter what happened with the filming or anything else, Hope had earned a whole bunch of respect with that one sentence.

With Liam behind the wheel and Finn fishing off the bow, Ro had just cast again when Hope’s rod jerked. And instead of freaking out, the way most people did the first time they hooked a fish, she let out an initial squeal, then hollered good and loud.

“Fish on, boys!”

Ro and Finn reeled in their lines as quickly as they could, stowed their rods in the holders, then stood back and watched as Hope put everything she’d learned, everything she’d spent the day watching, into practice.

Feet braced, rod tip up, she alternated between reeling and letting the fish run, and all the while Ronan and Finn were right there, laughing, instructing, and hoping to hell her line didn’t snap. A couple of times she thought she’d lost the damn thing, but it held on, so she did, too, tongue sticking out between her teeth, until finally, grunting and laughing, she pulled it close enough to the boat that Ro could lean over and scoop it up in the net.

He reached for the bonker, but Hope already had it.

“You sure?” he asked. “I can do this part if you want.”

It was halting at best, but she shook her head and exhaled slowly. “Thanks, but I…I got it.”

Behind her, Finn’s eyes were huge, but Ro just nodded and pointed toward the fish’s forehead.

“Hard and fast,” she murmured. “Don’t let him suffer.”

It was over in a second, and without even looking up, Hope took the pliers from Ronan and worked the hook out of the fish’s mouth.

“Hell of a job!” Finn said. “Hold it up; we’ll get a picture.”

She did as he said, even smiled in the photo, but not with her usual brightness. Ro waited until his brothers went back to their posts before he moved up next to her so he didn’t have to raise his voice.

“You okay?” Stupid question, because clearly she wasn’t, so when she shrugged and readied herself to cast again, he stopped her. “Hope. Look at me.”

It took her a few long blinks, but she finally lifted her glistening eyes up to him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Reeling that fish in was amazing, but now I’m thinking there’re already four or five in the cooler, so isn’t this overkill?”

Ronan lifted the rod out of her hand and slipped it into the holder, then walked her back to where they sat earlier and waited until she was leaning against the wall, her legs stretched out, her hands twisting in her lap.

“Listen to me,” he said, crouching down next to her. “I know you’ve only been at the Buoys a few days, but think about this: Since you arrived, have you seen anything go to waste?”

“What?” She frowned. “God no. Just yesterday I saw Jessie drop an ice cube on the floor, and instead of tossing it in the sink, she dropped it in one of the plants!”

“Exactly. That fish you reeled in is going to make a helluva good dinner tonight, and any parts we don’t use ourselves, like the head and tail, we leave for the seals. Nothing gets wasted; nothing’s taken for granted.”

“But we have all those other fish already,” she said, glancing around guiltily. “We can’t eat all of it tonight.”

“ ’Course not, but we’ll make short work of at least two of them, and whatever we don’t eat tonight will either get smoked or canned and served to guests.”

She stared down at her hands for a long moment, and when she finally looked up again, most of the guilt was gone from her expression, but in its place was regret.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think it would affect me, you know? You must think I’m a lunatic for carrying on like this.”

He didn’t. Not even close.

“It’s just…” She rubbed her hands over her face, then let them fall again. “I never really thought about it before, which is stupid, I know, because I buy meat and fish at the store all the time, but who really thinks about where it comes from, you know? But this—catching it yourself—is…humbling.”

There was nothing amusing about it, but Ro couldn’t help himself: He crouched there next to her, smiling like a big ol’ idiot, because she got it. She understood.

“Come on.” Taking her hand in his, he tugged her to her feet. “We haven’t limited out yet, but if it makes you feel better, anything else we catch today is strictly catch and release, deal?”

There it was: the smile.

“Deal.” Tipping her head to the side a little, she squeezed his hand and lifted her brow high. “Will you let me use your fancy rod?”

“Ha!” Finn, who’d wandered back their way, reeling as he moved, barked out a hard laugh. “Let me tell you about Ro’s fancy rod. The whole time he was married, Mandy wouldn’t let him buy anything but those cheap-ass ones from the sporting-goods department, so the first thing he did when she kicked his sorry ass out was order up that rod. He hand-picked everything on it, from the titanium frame to that handle there—see that? It’s burl cork. And no one—no one—except him is allowed to touch it.”

“But it’s just a fishing rod.”

“Just a—” Clutching his chest, Ronan staggered back a couple of steps. “This is not just a fishing rod, Hope. It’s a work of art; it’s like the Mona Lisa of rods.”

Her gaze darted to Finn, then rolled Ro’s way again.

“Well, sure, it’s pretty and all,” she said slowly. “But does it catch bigger or better fish because it’s pretty?”

“That’s not the point,” Ro said.

“Then what is the point?”

“Excellent question, Hope.” With his hand wrapped around his own fishing rod, Finn chuckled and bobbed his head toward Ro’s. “Exactly what is the point of having a rod like that? Is it your way of compensating for something?”

“Screw off,” Ro laughed. “The point is…”

“There is no point,” Hope said.

“Of course there is! Okay, think of it this way—your feet and a Ferrari will both get you where you’re going, but if given the choice, wouldn’t you choose the Ferrari?”

By the time Ronan had finished his pathetic analogy, both Finn and Hope were looking at him as if he’d lost his mind, and maybe he had, but that didn’t mean he was going to let either one of them use his rod. Not even when Hope smiled at him like that and he had to shake his head hard to remember what it was he wouldn’t let her do.