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“So good,” she whispered against my lips. “Be sure to tell your readers that fish guts are an excellent aphrodisiac.”

Her words shocked a laugh out of me and I kissed her again, hard and fast. “Maybe they can figure this one out for themselves.”

“Afraid you might lose cool points if they know you let a girl catch more fish than you?”

Her words teased but she wasn’t completely wrong. “Not all men have egos that can handle it, unlike me. I think it’s hot, woman, go catch my dinner!” My words were rewarded with a splash of murky river water straight to the face.

“Oh, is that not dinner?” Laughter erupted from her, scaring away nearly all the fish with that final disturbance. “At least we have a few… hang on!” Yeah, Eva managed to catch one more fish, bringing her total to seven and my daily catch to a measly three fish. “So many fish and so few people.”

She was right and I had an idea, something I never would advise my readers to do because it was guaranteed to give the wrong impression. But still, before I could think better of it, my mouth issued the offer. “With a few more ingredients, we have a proper fish fry on our hands.”

Surprise and happiness flashed in those big gray eyes and I knew I’d said the right thing. “Sounds fun. Your place or mine?”

I smiled at her words. “Music to my ears.”

Eva laughed and rolled her eyes. “Of course, that’s what you heard. For the fish fry, Oliver, your place or mine?”

Her place was hers, not mine, which made it the perfect way to have a party together but not really. “My place isn’t party ready,” I told her honestly.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes as if she expected just that answer. “That means you’re on grocery duty. I’ll make a list,” she said and got down to it while I got us turned around and back to the boat rental place.

“A list? As in a ‘honey do’ list?”

Eva laughed. “You’re not my honey, so not quite. Just a friendly guide to help a bachelor feed a crowd.”

My shoulders relaxed. “Okay. I can do that.”

Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but Eva said nothing. “I never had a doubt.”

That was good news because, lately, I was full of them.Eva“A joint party?” Though Mama’s tone went up at the end, she wasn’t really asking a question. “That sounds like a hell of a lot more than friends to me, but what do I know? I’m just an old lady with old-fashioned values. Right?”

That was a question with no good answer, so I suppressed a frustrated sigh and took a step back so she could hobble her way to the kitchen table. “Oliver stopped by and we went fishing together. Having a party was easier than divvying it up, since we have many of the same friends.” It was a rote answer, one I’d given to no less than five different people who’d had the same response when I’d called to invite them over. “Most people just accept a free meal with a smile of gratitude.”

Mama gave a humph of disbelief and shot me with a look I knew I couldn’t dodge forever. For today, sure. But not forever. “I brought s’mores pie so my meal isn’t free. Now, tell me, what’s going on?”

I heard the question, but my gaze was riveted to the promised s’mores pie before a squeak of delight slipped out. “You really are the best mama ever, even if you do get on my nerves sometimes.” I wrapped her in a hug, which she returned double strength.

“Right back atcha, girl.”

“Now, let’s get you something to drink and find you a comfortable seat where you can watch and judge everyone.” It was her favorite pastime, one she shared with a few other older ladies in town.

Mama put a hand to her chest and gasped dramatically. “I don’t judge. Not ever.” She winked playfully when she couldn’t hold her serious expression any longer.

“Right. You would never do that. Ever.”

“Exactly,” she sighed. “And that’s just what you tell anyone who accuses me of such sinful behavior.” It was nice to hear her laughing and happy, even if it was at my expense. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. Actually, you can be the drill sergeant, make sure everything gets done and in a timely manner. Oliver can be easily distracted.”

“Only when there’s a beautiful woman in the room,” he said seamlessly as his long legs carried him into the kitchen, two canvas bags filled with groceries in his hands.

I rolled my eyes, even if his words thrilled me. Secretly. “Did you get everything?”

He nodded and set the bags down. “Yep, plus I got some crab salad because it looked good, barbecue beans because it’s not a fish fry without them, onion rings, French fries, and beer. Oh, and whiskey, too.”

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