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This damn woman.
She’d better not be pushing herself too hard.
His injuries had been severe.
Hers should have been fatal.
“Oh, it’s no bother,” the older gentleman said and lowered himself from the railing.
Samuel focused on the little red and white ball bobbing in the water while the fisherman went through the same quick lesson with Jessica. There were a lot more words of encouragement for her, then again, from the sound of it, she wasn’t new to fishing either. Her throaty laugh mixed with the old man’s sandpaper tone as they spoke in low tones.
Samuel darted a glance at the other two.
Jessica freaking Chapin.
His heart still did a painful twist in his chest when he looked at her. It was nothing but a miracle they were both breathing. By all accounts, they should have died.
Her pale blonde ponytail swung as she shook her head, then doubled over, hand pressed to her chest. Her shoulders shuddered and now she had both hands pressed just over the scar where the bullet had torn through her chest.
Not that anyone had asked Samuel, but he had to wonder if it was smart sending them out here?
They were exposed, for one.
The pair of security guards in the car weren’t exactly keeping a sharp eye out. In fact, he was pretty unimpressed with their security overall, not just here and now.
Samuel shifted his weight from foot to foot and scanned the trees surrounding them.
If someone out there wanted them dead, this would be an awfully good place to do it. They were off in a remote part of the mountains, far from people, and few knew where they were.
“Are you even paying attention?” Jessica’s voice vibrated with laughter as she stepped out onto the dock next to him.
“Are you?”
She rolled her eyes and let go of her line, letting it sway gently on the end of the rod. “Just saying, I’m pretty sure you already lost your first bite…”
“What?”
He frowned at the red and white ball bobbing on the water.
Had he missed something?
Slowly, he began to pull the line in while Jessica sent her hook sailing into the water.
“You been fishing before?” he asked.
Her head whipped around and her brows rose. “Oh, are we speaking now?”
He clamped his lips together, refusing to rise to the bait.
Jessica chuckled. “What? What did I do now, Mr. Grumpy Pants?”
He would not respond.
Instead, he focused on his hook rising from the water.
His empty hook.
Son of a…
