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“As a tax audit.” Jackson headed to the workbench for a new air filter.
“And here I thought you liked her,” Shane said. Jackson stiffened ever so slightly, knuckles tightening around the cardboard box in his hands.
“We’re not getting married or anything, if that’s what you mean.” Suddenly, it took effort to keep the laid-back edge in his voice, but he shrugged once, covering up the streak of unease.
“Most New Yorkers would rather be skinned alive than go the worms and rod route, that’s all.” Shane’s voice was easygoing enough for both of them, and Jackson relaxed. It was just a trip to Big Gap Lake for the day. He went all the time.
“Yeah, Carly’s definitely not your average New Yorker.” Jackson laughed. “She’s the one who actually suggested it.”
Shane’s jaw dropped. “Get out of here.”
“I shit you not,” Jackson promised, holding up one hand in solemn oath. “We were talking about things to do in Pine Mountain, and she asked me about the lake.”
Specifically, Carly had asked him if there was anything edible swimming in the lake, to which he’d answered “define edible.” Sure, there were some decent dinner options lurking in the water, but they were a lot harder to catch than most of the other critters that would snap at any bait on a line. Those were the ones you had to worry about.
“Why on God’s green earth would she want you to take her fishing?”
He lifted a shoulder in a non-committal shrug. “She wants to go on a research mission.”
“Sexy,” Shane grinned, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, fuck you.” Jackson’s laugh hammered home the complete lack of meanness in his words. The truth was, as soon as the request to go fishing had crossed Carly’s lips, despite the reason behind it, he’d found the whole thingverysexy. “She wants to check out the opportunities to use local ingredients at the restaurant. You know, make the food experience more personal by adding regional flair.”
“Putting regional flair on a twelve-ounce pike is like putting lipstick on a pig, Jax. Some of the fish in that lake are pretty scary. You’ve said so yourself.” Shane dropped his wrench into the toolbox with a clang and hooked a thumb through his belt loop.
“That’s why I’m taking her, dumbass. She wants to see if there’s anything worth looking for, but she’s never been fishing so she doesn’t know where to start. We’re just going to give it a try and see if we can come up with some bass or maybe a catfish.”
All in all, Jackson really couldn’t have asked for a better deal. Pretty woman, relaxing pastime. What more could a guy want?
“Sounds like it’s right up your alley.” His eyes darted over Jackson with an odd expression that was gone before he could reply. “Thanks for the help. Buy you a beer for your effort? Bellamy’s on dinner service until eleven.”
Jackson nodded, his thoughts drifting to Carly at the mention of the restaurant.
Feed her.
His head jerked up with a start, and the words that had been absent all week rattled around in his mind like they’d never left.
16
Jackson maneuvered his truck over the winding driveway leading to Carly’s bungalow at about the same time the sun crested over the horizon through the trees. Few things in life were as pretty as a mountain sunrise, and he eased the truck to a stop and got out, taking a long second to enjoy the view from the top of her driveway.
“Hey.” Carly’s voice, sleep-laden and sexier for it, took him by complete surprise, and he jerked toward the spot where she stood on the porch.
“Are you ever going to let me ring the bell?” Jackson asked, cursing himself for spouting out the first thing that popped into his head. Damn, she looked cute in her broken-in jeans and red hoodie, with all of those dark, beautiful waves of hair piled up on her head in a knot. She made her way down the walk, a steaming travel mug in each hand and a small picnic basket in the crook of one elbow.
“You’re welcome to ring the bell as much as you like, but if you wake Sloane up, it’s your funeral.” Carly handed him one of the mugs and buried a yawn in her fleece-covered shoulder before returning her arm to her side. “Girlfriend is a little uptight about her beauty sleep.”
“Thanks.” Jackson toasted her with his cup. “And some of us get up this early all the time, you know.” He walked Carly around to the passenger side of the truck to open her door.
“I can’t help it if you’re clinically insane,” she said, stifling another yawn and climbing in. “Speaking of which, aren’t you supposed to be at work right now?”
Jackson laughed, walking around to climb behind the wheel before answering. “Going to work makes me clinically insane?” He rolled the windows down by habit, and the ensuing breeze toyed with the loose tendrils around Carly’s face as he pulled out of her driveway and started down Rural Route Four.
“Your charm is no good with me before ten AM.” She lifted a brow, probably in an effort to look menacing, but she was too damn pretty to pull it off. “You’re avoiding the question.”
He sent an intentionally lazy smile in her direction. “Did you just call me charming?”
Carly’s jaw tightened over a frown, which struck Jackson as more adorable than anything else. Holy shit, was she tough. She opened her mouth, presumably to retract her statement about his charm, and he cut her off with a grin.
