“Where did you get those?”
He plucked at them. “They were a gag gift.” He smiled softly, and I didn’t have to ask from who, but I was shocked by a blaze of jealousy that ate away at my stomach. That, in turn, made me feel like a terrible brother. If Carter was still alive, I wouldn’t be doing this with West today, and I’d just have to get over that. I opened the door and flopped onto the passenger seat, disgusted with myself.
The drive to the park that stretched along the lake wasn’t long, and the day was really heating up by the time we arrived. We took the cooler with the food out of the car—we’d stopped along the way to get some ice—and walked into the park to claim a spot under a tree on a slight grassy rise, then beamed at each other over our good luck. We had maybe the only place that went right down to the water’s edge, wasn’t all hill, and had shade. It was perfect. In the distance the old lighthouse teetered with its light endlessly swirling, stacked up onto a manmade stone hill.
“It always sort of looks like it’s going to fall in, to me,” I said nodding at it.
West laughed. “It’s been here for two hundred years. If it was going to, I think it would have by now. Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand. I stared at our fingers where they were laced together, but he didn’t seem to notice he was holding my hand like we were a couple, so I tried to be cool about it. We left our stuff there at our spot, it was early and not many people were around yet, and he led me to a small shack about half a mile down the beach. A leathery old man, with more goodwill than teeth or hair, had simple fishing poles stuck in a barrel at the corner of the building. The hooks were baited already, and you could rent the poles for ten bucks apiece. West got two and an extra cup of worms.
“Thank you, kids,” the old man croaked.
“Sure,” West said, and handed him another five. The old man saluted with the bill, rolled up the extra cash, and shoved it into one of the socks he had on with his sandals.
We marched back to our spot, but the entire way, I watched the sad worms struggling to escape the cup in my hand with my heart sinking. They were ugly little things, but they knew enough to want freedom. I eyed the worm on my hook and my stomach flinched unpleasantly.
“Daddy?”
He stumbled on the well-worn path along the beach and looked back at me. For a second I thought he was going to yell at me for calling him that, but he merely shook his head. “Yeah, Boy?”
“I don’t think…. I feel bad for them.” I thrust the cup in his direction.
He cleared his throat and stared out over the water before he nailed me in place with a long look. “Seriously? They’re worms.”
“But… they seem like they really want to be free.”
He sighed. “Why didn’t you say you don’t like fishing before we got the poles?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never been before. My father never took us.”
West’s face went a bright scarlet, and then he grinned and glanced toward the park. “If you can find a spot to put them… if you just drop them in the grass, they’ll dry out and die, but if they have some shelter… preferably something near an old log….” He studied me, and I stared right back at him while my worms tried to do a jail break. I rested my hand over the top of the cup and almost caught myself on a hook dangling from one of the poles.
“I’ll find a spot.”
He glanced at the fishing poles and shook his head slowly. “You’re sure you don’t want to fish?”
“Yeah, I can’t.”
He jogged back the way we came to return the rented poles. I scoped out the area and managed to find a place where a few large rocks were piled together on the pebbly sand, and I dumped the worms into the hollow between them. The writhing knot scattered and nosed into the earth. “Be free, little guys.”
“Something is probably going to eat them,” West said from behind me. I jumped a little and smiled at him over my shoulder. The soft rush of the small lake waves were peaceful this close to the water, and I straightened into his touch when West rested his hand in the middle of my back.
“Yeah, but that’s not really my fault, right? That’s nature.”
“You’re part of nature. We might as well have used them for fishing”
My stomach tossed. “But I don’t like it.”
He held out his hand and I put mine in it. There was a trash can not too far away, so I ditched the cup the worms had been in, and we meandered back to the trail along the beach. When I worked up the nerve to walk in the water, I tugged us over there, and he followed me easily. I hissed as my toes touched the first lapping wave, and he laughed.
“Cold?”
“Yeah, it has not warmed up yet.”
“It’s July,” he said with a laugh. “We can hold off on swimming.”
“Oh no. We’re going in before we leave.”
He reeled me out of the water and closer to his side. We turned around when we reached a breaker wall that extended out into the lake and cut off the beach, and I was starving by the time we got back to our blanket and cooler. We broke into the food much earlier than I thought we would—the sun wasn’t even completely overhead yet—and I didn’t want to ruin things by checking my phone, but I didn’t think it was noon.
West leaned back against the tree shading us and took out a sandwich, unwrapping it. I stared at him and his sexy lips as he took a bite. I didn’t know why him eating was as good as him kissing me for getting a semi, or if it was just an obsession with his mouth that turned me on, but I had trouble looking away. He caught my eye as he swallowed, and then he smirked.
“See something you like?”
“Yes.”
“Me or the sandwich?”
“Yes.”
He laughed and held out an arm. I crawled to his side and settled in, contentment pouring through me as he offered me his sandwich. I took a bite and slid my hand around his arm to hold onto him. My position was clingy, but I didn’t want to stop, and he didn’t seem to mind. We shared all of our food that way. I never touched any of it with my hands. When we were done, I was feeling lazy and drowsy, and I crawled between his legs to rest my back against his chest. He kissed my ear and slid his hands onto my stomach, which had me focusing on how close they were to my groin. I stopped breathing for a moment.
“Comfy?” he asked and licked the arch of my ear.
“Yep,” I answered and closed my eyes.
“Hey, Shane, is that you?”
I stiffened, and West did too. Slowly, I sat up. David, a tall, blond, too good-looking for real-life guy, who also happened to be my shift manager at the bookstore, bounded up with a golden retriever at his heels. I waved awkwardly. Never could I figure out what the hell to say to the man, so I usually just did what he told me to do around the store without much input. David had a chest that would make a Greek god jealous, and of course, he had his shirt tucked into the back pocket of his shorts, waving around like a flag behind him. He smiled at me and wasn’t paying any attention to his dog, who jumped like she was on a spring beside him, hoping to get the ball he held.
“Last I checked it’s still me,” I said, going for humor, but failing and coming off sarcastic. I wanted to kick myself and stood instead. David offered his hand, and I scoped him out without taking it at first. After that woman yesterday, I’d been reminded that not everyone, hell, maybe not most people, would be that excited to see me loving on West in public. Long after I’d let this get weird, I offered my hand, and he took it without any problems. When we were done shaking, he turned and gave his hand to West, who didn’t seem very happy, but politely returned the gesture.