Chapter Eight

 

“Hey, feel up to fishing?” Tate asked, walking into the cabin. As always, when I glanced up at him, it caused a warm feeling to roil around in my belly. He looked gorgeous dressed in snug fitting faded blue jeans and T-shirt with the arms ripped out.

“I’m not sure,” I answered, reluctantly. He already knew I wasn’t into the outdoorsy activities.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he insisted, walking over to me. “I can see you’re bored.”

He was right about that. I didn’t understand how he could choose mountain life over the beauty of the city. I could see it as a retreat every now and again but to live permanently up here was a bust. There was nothing to do and I was already all movied out.

“I really don’t know anything about fishing,” I warned, although I felt myself capitulating.

“Don’t worry, I’m a good teacher.”

He winked at me and when he was playful like this, which was rare, he was irresistible.

So, I ended up walking beside him in the direction of the river. We went slowly so I didn’t have to put too much pressure on my ankle, although I could barely feel it hurting today. It hit me that I would be leaving soon. I had no more than two days to get off this mountain and to a work, I wasn’t sure I still had. I already knew what was going to happen. Keith would try to win me over, to manipulate me. Maybe when he realized I truly meant we were over, he wouldn’t want me working for him anymore. In the event this happened, I could always sue for sexual harassment in the workplace but I didn’t believe in stirring up drama so, I’d probably leave and just find a new start.

A pity Tate wouldn’t be around.

“Don’t you ever get bored up here on your own?” I asked to find out where his head was.

He shrugged. “I like my own company.”

“Is that so?” I asked, giving him a side-eye. “You don’t seem to mind having me around.”

“Well, you’re not as annoying as some,” he grumbled, then changed the subject. “You going back to your job when you leave?”

“I have to,” I answered. “It’s my job. Whether or not I still have a job, that’s the question.”

“You know he can’t just fire you because you refuse to sleep with him, right?”

“Yeah, but he can make my life a living nightmare.”

“Oh? Guy sounds like a douchebag.”

“He is,” I acknowledged because it was true. “Do you ever spend time back in the real world?”

He laughed in amusement. “And this isn’t the real world? This is more real than the city you live in. Here there is no pretense. Nature is what you see around you, stripped bare and exposed. In the city, people keep secrets, make judgments and discriminates.”

It was the most intense little speech I’d heard from him since I arrived on his doorstep. It also gave me much insight into the man that was Tate. Whatever he had faced in the city had left him broken and he still hurt because of it. I wished I was brave enough to ask him outright what had happened to the woman and girl in the picture but, I had only two days with him. I didn’t want argument between us. Not when I was trying to find a way to suggest he look me up if he ever did come to the city.

“This is a good spot,” he mentioned and dropped his sack with the tackle box he’d brought along.

“I’ll just watch,” I told him as he began to line up his fishing rod.

He glanced up at me. “I told you I’ll teach you,” he replied. “I promise, it’s not as hard as it looks. I’ll outfit the line with the bait.”

I really wanted to get it right, so I watched him, paying attention to every single thing. I was grossed out a bit that he chose to use live bait but I should have known Tate wouldn’t be a plastic worm kind of guy. He spoke while he added the line, telling me at the same time he showed me what to do.

He made it look as easy as he said it was when he caught his first two fishes, and then passed me the hook. I didn’t really want to but something inside me wanted his approval. He moved me in front of him and couldn’t resist copping a feel of my ass. I gave him a mock glare but inside I was pleased he found me to be so irresistible.

“It’s just fishing, Bry,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t be so tense about it.”

After a few casting errors, I finally landed the bait.

“Now what?” I asked Tate.

“Now watch the bobbers,” he explained. “If the bobber sinks, you’re getting bites from a fish and should get ready to reel in.”

My tongue peeked out the corner of my mouth as I concentrated and relaxed. This didn’t seem so bad after all.

“Do you ever get into the city?” I asked Tate as I watched the handmade cork bobber religiously.

“From time to time,” he answered. “I’ve business in the city.”

I remembered the financial magazines in the living room and inclined my head towards him. “Really? What business?”

“Just business,” he replied with no further explanation.

“And how do you get into the city?” I prodded.

“A spaceship,” he remarked sarcastically. “A car. What do you expect?”

I frowned at his waspish tone. Why did he always get so abrasive sometimes when the questions became personal? I decided to push him, get him out of his comfort zone.

“If you own a car, how comes you didn’t just drop me off instead of making me wait for my ankle to heal?” I quipped.

“There’s still the little thing called making it down the mountains first,” he answered. “I couldn’t drive this far up the trail even with a four-wheeler.”

“Oh.” I tried not to make my disappointment show that he simply just wanted me around for as long as I could stay.

“Your bobber’s sinking,” he announced, pulling me from my thoughts.

He was right and I could feel a tug on the other end of the line, small jerking motions. I reeled in the fish as I’d watched Tate do but, when the fish broke the surface and I saw how big it was, not to mention its squirming, I promptly dropped the line.

“Shit,” I muttered, my heart pounding at the way the fish had been battering to stay alive.

I heard Tate’s loud guffaw as he came to the rescue and grabbed the fishing line and reeled the fish the rest of the way in. With expert ease, he unhooked the fish and threw it into the igloo with the others.

I was irritated at him laughing at me, the situation too familiar with what had happened with Keith and his friends. Hadn’t they laughed too and mocked how inept I was at this ‘manly’ stuff? Wasn’t that what I had been running from when I ran into Tate? Deep down, I knew he didn’t mean any harm, but I just kept hearing Keith and his friends jeering, making fun of me and pushing me to my limit.

“Fuck you!” I grumbled in disgust and stalked away.

“Shit, Bry, where are you going?” he called after me, but I didn’t respond. Neither did I look back.

I was hurt at him laughing at me because the fish had startled me for a minute. I should have never gone along with him, knowing this would happen. I was a walking-talking joke for whatever man I ended up in the sack with.

“Will you wait up!” Tate hollered and hurried to overtake me. He grabbed me by the arm to halt me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me!” I snapped. “Just because someone isn’t nearly an expert at this hiking and living in the wilderness shit as you are, doesn’t mean anything is wrong with them.”

“You’re acting rather childish,” he said crossly. “We were having fun.”

“No, you were having fun!” I exclaimed and tried to tug away from him. “At my expense. Isn’t that what all you macho men always do? Can’t miss the opportunity you can use to make fun of other men who aren’t like you.”

“You’re making way too a big deal of this. So, I laughed. Maybe I shouldn’t have but you need to lighten up.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

He pulled me into him, his hands on my hips. “Chill. Out.” He punctuated the words for emphasis. “I swear sometimes you’re even more wound-up than I am. If it makes you feel better, then I apologize, okay? I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ve no idea what the hell your ex did, but I’m not him. Okay?”

The fact that he apologized only made me feel I had overreacted. I felt a little embarrassed that I had compared him to Keith who would have never apologized to me for something. Even if the evidence was slapped into his face that he was wrong. So, Tate laughed. He’d found the situation funny. At least he hadn’t derided me about it. There was joke and then there was derision. I had been exposed to the latter with Keith’s friends.

“Fine,” I mumbled.

“Doesn’t sound fine,” he observed aloud and his hands slipped around my waist to cup my backside. “But I can make it fine.”

It started with his lips pressed against mine but by the time he was finished with me there on the river, I’d forgotten what I was mad about.