I opened the screen door, and then the inside one, and I propped it open with the door stopper.
“So this is the living room and the kitchen is right over there.” I pointed to the opposite side. There was the other large sliding door, the one that faced the water where we’d just been.
“I like it.” He grinned as he passed me, taking it upon himself to look around. Which really shouldn’t have surprised me since I knew my way around his house from helping him the past week.
“Did you catch all of these?” He was looking at my fish mounted on the wall.
Nobody had ever asked me about my fish. Ever. And there had been some guys inside that cabin. I supposed they didn’t give a shit.
Did that mean he did?
“Most of them. Some are my dad’s; some were my grandpa’s. That largemouth bass is mine, though. You said you fished a little when you were younger, what did you guys fish for?”
He chuckled before answering, looking embarrassed. “Whatever my Snoopy pole would catch. I think they were sunfish, but I did pretty well and I remember catching quite a few.”
“I had one of those too. That didn’t last me very long, though. I think I broke it after a week and Dad got me a real pole.”
“You fish a lot then, huh?”
“When I can. I do a lot in the summer when I’m out here by myself. It’s calming. I like the game of it. What can I do to make them want my line? You know? I think that’s why I make lures and flies. They’re both relaxing.”
“I think I need a relaxing hobby.”
“I saw some clubs in your garage. You golf?” I asked as I turned on a lamp in the living room and walked over to one of the windows on the far side to get a breeze moving through the cabin. Since I used mine a little more than most it never got that musty smell, but it always smelled better with fresh air in it.
“I did. I mean, I do. Dr. Carver said there was a small course here?”
“Yeah, it’s actually pretty nice, I think. We get a lot of people from around the area for tournaments and stuff. There’s a nice clubhouse and restaurant out there. I don’t go out very often. Special occasions. Weddings. Stuff like that.”
I walked over to the bathroom and flipped the switch. “Excuse me. Make yourself at home. Poke around.”
When I saw myself in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised I didn’t look as bad as I’d imagined. I opened a drawer where I had a few things and ran a comb through my hair. I’d had it up in a ponytail, so it was going back up because I had that lovely ring that the holder left, but at least it would look nicer. I rummaged a little more and found a tube of mascara and threw a coat on my lashes, pinched my cheeks. Then I debated brushing my teeth, but I hated the way toothpaste made beer taste, so instead I swished a little mouthwash and water in there. I applied some Chapstick, and although I wasn’t a supermodel, and I never would be, I decided it was a significant improvement.
I quickly peed and washed my hands, then rubbed some sweet smelling lotion on my arms, noting that I wouldn’t be catching anything if I touched my line after that, but I didn’t really give a shit either—if he liked it.
I didn’t want to smell fishy. And even though I hadn’t been keeping any of my catches, I had in fact touched a few. Fish and romance weren’t really a match made in heaven.
I rubbed the jasmine lotion in. Then added a little smear to my neck, and, even though I knew nobody would ever reap the benefit of it, I rubbed some through my cleavage.
I had to be prepared for anything. You know, like me forgetting my patience and throwing myself at him like a wanton whore.
Although what I’d changed was subtle, the look he gave me when I came out of the bathroom was not.
“O’Fallon, you look pretty tonight,” he said, almost like he hadn’t even thought about the words. Like they just fell out. And I had to admit he looked pretty damn good too, standing there in my cabin.
I hadn’t been looking for compliments, but there I was smack dab in the middle of one—and I wasn’t used to it at all. Nobody called me pretty except my dad, but he was my dad.
Hearing I looked pretty from Vaughn’s mouth was something completely different.
Different in how I reacted, which was to nervously look around and pretend like he hadn’t knocked the wind out of me.
Different in how I felt. I almost believed him, and I would have, had I not just seen myself.
But, mostly, different in how I didn’t know how to respond. I had no sassy comeback.
I’d been told I was hot before, in a bar, by drunk guys who were looking for a little companionship. And, to be honest, when I actually went to the bar, I was also looking for companionship.
Girls get horny, too.
Girls want intimacy and closeness, too.
And sometimes the quickest relief for that longing was a roll in the sheets with someone just passing through, or someone from out of town.