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Well, maybe you should go out there for a while, Nikki had said about the cabin.Take your girl out fishing or something. It was starting to seem more and more like the right idea.
That was what he needed. Time away from the problem, to get out of his own head. Something normal, to remind himself of who he was and what he was fighting for.
Besides, the cabin would be the safest place for Becca. Nobody knew about it except for him, Wyatt, and his dad. It was the perfect place to get some distance from the problem, get his head right, and figure out what to do next.
22
Becca hated fishing.
She hated everything about it; the sitting and waiting, the hooks, the bait, the wriggling fish pulled off of those hooks to then be gutted and cleaned in a particularly gross and gory fashion. In her opinion, the only proper way to interact with a fish, was when it was presented to you already prepared as sushi on a nice rectangular plate.
Still, compared to being in the clubhouse, which was now filled with angry men talking about angry things and waving a lot of guns around, she supposed this was better.
The cabin itself was all right. Cozy, surprisingly well-kept, considering it had been a bunch of guys using it exclusively up until now. The quiet out here in the middle of nowhere was actually pretty appealing given the craziness that had been going on lately.
And she supposed the trees, and the birds in them, and the breeze blowing through them, was nice enough as well. She could do without all of the bugs, though. Becca never understood why there had to be bugs. All they did was annoy everyone.
When Griz had suggested that they return to the cabin for a day or two, she’d thought, why not? He needed some time to sort out his thoughts after Wyatt had been shot, and she could definitely use the time to figure out her own thoughts as well.
She was concerned about one thing. As good as the sex had been for them the night before, Becca secretly hoped that Griz didn’t want to try to go for a follow-up round right away. Her lady parts still felt like they’d had about ten thousand miles put on them at one go.
So Becca was generally content to come back to the cabin, thinking that there would be a lot of sitting around and talking about things and playing cards.
But now here they were, walking through the trees, carrying fishing poles and small metal cans filled with dirt. Writhing around in that dirt, Becca knew, there were countless fat, squirming, disgusting worms, just waiting for her to pluck them out of the can and impale them on a barbed hook.
The more she thought about it, the more monstrous fishing began to seem. Couldn’t they just use a net or something, trick the fish to jump into it somehow? It didn’t seem right to poke them in their little fish faces and drag them out of the water on the end of a string.
Finally, they reached a small creek that babbled and meandered its way through the woods. Griz picked out a spot that overlooked a bend in the creek, and set down his tackle box and can of worms.
“This is the spot?” Becca asked.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s deeper here, and the fish like to come hide by the roots of this tree.”
After he said it, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer. Becca was a little taken by surprise by the sudden affection, but she let him kiss her, until his beard began to tickle too much and she had to pull away suddenly.
“What is it?” he said.
“I’m not used to the beard,” Becca said.
He frowned. “You don’t like it?”
“Well, maybe we can just… trim it down a little bit,” she said. “Keep it under control, you know? I just want to make sure that a squirrel doesn’t come running out of it or anything.”
“I’ve always kept my beard like this.”
“Well, I’ve always gotten my fish by having someone else catch it for me,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be me that does all the changing, you know?”
“That’s fair,” he said with a nod.
Becca blinked once in surprise. “That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“I was expecting more of an argument.”
“No.”
“Hunh,” she said. “All right, then.”
