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The thought broke off. Oh no. She had kissed her best friend last night. Or, he'd kissed her. The memory was a bit misty, but her body remembered the touch of those lips resting on hers, the writhing sexual heat that claimed her, the gorgeous press of his hips and erection against her core.
Horror washed over her. Gen dropped her face into her hands. This was bad. Very bad. What had she said afterward? Had she passed out before uttering something stupid? Would it make things weird for them? How could she have been so slutty, when she'd just left her fiancee at the altar?
The door opened. Wolfe stuck his head in.
"Oh, BTW, don't worry about the kiss thing. You're probably freaking out, but let's not ruin the day. Deal?"
Her mouth dropped open. "R-r-right. I'm sorry, Wolfe. So sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." She paused. "Umm, it was good though?"
A wicked grin tugged those lush lips. Once again, she was struck by his bad-boy hotness, the leather wristbands, tattoo, eyebrow ring, and those piercing blue eyes blazing in his face like he knew all the bad things to do to women and enjoyed every last one.
"Hell, yeah, it was good. But we were kinda drunk and sad and we needed it. No need for any weirdness between us. And I kissed you first, so don't feel guilty."
"Umm, okay."
"Gen?"
"Yeah?"
He winked. "You're an amazing kisser. If you weren't my best friend, I would've tumbled you right there and you wouldn't have had a shot."
Her heart leaped and sudden hot need hit her gut. Her lips curved in a smile. "Thanks. I think."
He laughed and shut the door. Damn the man. He had a talent for playing Jedi mind tricks on her, always sensing the right thing to say or do. Fine. If he wasn't going to think about the kiss, neither was she. After a few moments, Gen managed to shower and pull on denim shorts, a yellow tank, and flip-flops. Face bare of makeup--she'd left that behind when she crawled out the window--she scooped her hair into a ponytail and made her way to the kitchen.
She slid onto the stool and dove into her cereal. She spooned up a banana slice and shot him a look. "Fruit, too? You're getting to be a real gourmet."
"Wait till you see what's on the pizza for dinner."
"What are we doing today?"
"Think Hemingway."
She raised a brow. Damn, she'd forgotten how good Frosted Flakes could be in the morning. All that bran and granola was seriously sucking the fun out of her life. "Are you kidding? I'm still recovering from alcohol. And why do you look so chipper? That Sam Adams kicked my ass last night."
He sipped his coffee and leaned against the counter. "You lost your edge, woman. Used to be able to keep up."
"I got soft. Also switched to Michelob Ultra. I wasn't prepared."
Wolfe grinned. He looked just as casual as she did, with cutoff denim shorts, a navy blue T-shirt, and leather sandals. His hair was freshly washed and fell in damp waves over his forehead. The ring in his brow winked merrily, and the ink of his tattoo peeked through the collar of his shirt and climbed up sensuously over his neck. She always wondered why he'd picked a serpent. She'd never asked.
"You gonna tell me or are you going to torture me with more trivia?"
"Me, you, and the fish, baby."
She blinked. "Are you kidding? That's not fun! Sitting on some leaky, rotted dock catching smelly, wiggly fish so you can butcher them? I'm going back to bed."
"Not on my vacay. We're not sitting on the dock. This is much more exciting."
"How so?"
"We're renting a boat."
She got up, put her bowl and spoon in the sink, and headed to the bedroom. "Good luck with that. Night."
He caught her around the waist and swung her around. "You don't have a choice. It's gonna be epic. We'll sail the seas, catch fresh fish, fry them up tonight for dinner, and bond with nature."
"I'm not cooking fish."
"No problem. I can handle that."
She laughed. The image almost made the whole thing worth it. Almost. "I'm gonna be bored," she whined.
"Not with me. Get your sweet ass in gear, our poles are outside."
She grumbled but did what he told her. Unfortunately, she wasn't capable of making decisions for herself right now, so she depended on his direction. He picked up some type of tackle box, the poles, a case of water, and various snacks, then headed into the woods.
Gen dragged her feet, muttered zingy one-liners, and tried to keep up. He whistled and ignored all her barbed statements, not letting up the pace even though his legs were four times longer than hers. After a good twenty minutes of walking through brush, getting bitten by mosquitoes, and huffing and puffing, she opened her mouth to say she was quitting, but he stopped short.
"About time! Why didn't we drive? I hate walking in the woods. I'm tired. Can I have water? Where's the boat?"
"Should be back here." He dropped the stuff and began searching through overgrown brush and pussy willows long enough to be someone's weapon. "Ah, here it is." He disappeared in the vegetation for a few moments, then rose up with a boat by his side.
Gen stared.
She'd expected some elaborate power motor thing with music and air. Something to jet around the lake on while she sunbathed.
This thing would barely keep them alive.
The rowboat was wooden, with old-fashioned oars, and creaked dangerously. Narrow and definitely unbalanced, it bounced back and forth as if just waiting to dump them. The water was greenish, and big globs of seaweed floated in it. She shivered with fear at the idea of being in there. What the hell? He dumped the stuff into the boat and held out a hand to her.
"No. Way."
The man had the nerve to look like he was holding on to his patience. "Now what's the problem, princess?"
She practically spit in fury. "Are you nuts? Where's the life jackets? The boat that doesn't sink? The man that makes you sign contracts about liability and gives you lessons on boating before allowing you out in the water?"
"That's the beauty of this whole thing. It's natural, not forced. We're heading to a great hidden place where the fish live. No rules, no contracts, no people. Just me, you, and the fish."
"This is worse than not getting married!"
"Will you just trust me? It's gonna be great. You'll love it."
She glared. Stamped her feet. Dammit, did she have a choice? She didn't want to be stuck in the cabin all day, thinking about David and her mistakes and the mess her life was. Maybe it would be helpful. She'd read Hemingway and that boring book about the man and the sea, trying to catch a fish. She had seen that old movie On Golden Pond with the Fondas. When had she gotten so structured that she didn't do anything impulsive any longer?
Since she got engaged.
David disliked veering off course where things could get sticky. He'd book a fishing trip at a nice marina, with a full-service concierge, a professional fisherman, and a compass. A rowboat in the middle of a mossy lake with no constructed plan for hours would never happen in his world.
In the beginning, she thought it was charming. She actually preferred a man who took things seriously and was ruthlessly organized. Until she realized he'd left no room to breathe. When she tried to embrace a more open viewpoint, his disdain and subtle punishments slowly eked away any enthusiasm she had until it became easier to give in.
Was it really his fault? Or hers for not fighting for what she wanted?
Gen pushed the thought away and set her jaw. "Fine. Let's do it." With careful movements, she climbed into the boat and gingerly sat on the rear seat, clutching the sides. Wolfe undid the ropes and pushed off, taking the main position by the oars. After a few minutes of sheer terror, she relaxed when the boat held and Wolfe actually seemed to know how to steer. Okay, this could be cool. It was a beautiful, warm day, the birds sang, the woods hugged the lake with gorgeous views, and she didn't have to worry about anyone finding them.
"Feel better?"
She nodded. "Yeah. You seem to know what
you're doing."
"It's not rocket science, just rowing."
Gen stuck out her tongue.
They floated in silence. Her mind quieted a bit, just taking in the moment. Little plops and ripples on the surface promised a wide variety of animals. She fought a shiver and hoped to God it was only little fish and not some type of disgusting sea creature ready to take down the boat.
"Why are you looking down like you think Jason is gonna pop out of the water with a hockey mask?"
"Don't say that! Ugh, this lake is gross. I can't believe I swam in it last night."
"You only think that because we're used to chlorinated pools. People need more germs. They'd be healthier."
She shook her head. "Thank you, Dr. Wolfe."
"Has a nice ring to it."
"Remember when my father learned you went by only one name?"
He rolled his eyes. "Your father hated me from the first moment."
She giggled at the memory. "He said, 'Wolfe, like Prince?' And you said, 'Not really.' "
"Then he just stared at me like I was a bug on his shoe he wanted to scrape off."
"He doesn't hate you, I keep telling you that. He's just wary. Izzy was always staring at you like she was hungry, and he's old-fashioned. Used to tell us if we got any piercings or tats we'd be in big trouble."
"Hmm, the threat didn't work well with Izzy."
