She narrows her eyes but the smile she tries to hide is impossible to miss. We continue down the river, slow and steady, and when we take a break in the afternoon, I break out the fishing rod again, only this time Paisley tries her hand at it.
“Don’t laugh,” she growls at me in warning.
“I’m not laughing,” I promise holding my hands up in surrender.
She gives me a suspicious look before casting. The line sails out beautifully and I actually open my mouth to compliment her.
The rod jerks suddenly and her eyes widen.
“I got one!”
“You did?” I ask, echoing her excitement.
“I did!”
She starts reeling in her catch, completely focused.
I grab my own rod and set it aside, watching as she fights whatever is on the other end.
“Keep the tip up.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Sure, about that, Paddles?”
“Dean.”
“Paisley.”
The struggling fish isn’t the problem.
She swings the rod too quickly and I watch the line break free of the river. She’s lost her fish, but my little troublemaker doesn’t come up empty-handed. She hooks another catch only this time it isn’t a fish.
It’s me.
I look down at the hook caught in my shirt then back at her horrified expression and laugh.
“Well, that’s one way to do it.”
Paisley drops the rod in the kayak as she covers her face with both hands.
“I can’t believe I just hooked you.”
I glance at her then at the hook.
“Careful, Paddles. Someone might think you came out here trying to catch a mountain man.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Was that supposed to be charming?”
“Yes.”
“You failed,” she replies reaching over to help remove the hook.
“I don’t think I did,” I reply with a grin, before capturing her hands and tugging her closer for a kiss.
After a lifetime of avoiding anything that might pull me away from this mountain, I’m standing here letting Paisley reel me in.
