She’d seen photos online. And she’d had an impression of it. From books or movies or TV, she supposed. She’d seen the trees and Spanish moss and water yesterday from the back of Mitch’s truck, but being on the bayou was different.
In among the trees, it felt different.
They were now floating in an area that dead-ended where the water was more still.
“It’s so pretty here,” she said, softly, almost not wanting to disturb the peace. “Quiet.”
The airboat had been too loud to talk over when they’d initially pulled away from the dock and headed down the deeper channel to the actual bayou waters. They’d both had ear protection on, and Mitch had sat up behind her on the tall seat where he could manage the boat. She’d sat on the first long bench in front of him with her feet propped on the bench in front of her.
They’d taken one of the smaller boats. This one could hold up to ten people and was reserved for the smaller groups that booked for longer and more intimate tours. They took these boats deeper into the bayou into places where people could get really up close and personal with the wildlife and were willing to pay for more time with the guides who would tell them stories and more facts and trivia as well as answering questions.
Once they got down to the bayou, Mitch had cut the engine, and they’d coasted along the quieter waters. They’d removed their headsets, and he’d been able to tell her about what she was seeing. And yes, stories about growing up on the bayou.
He’d swum and fished and hunted here. He and his cousins had goofed around, played jokes on one another, even had actual fights. They’d drunk beer and moonshine down here. Camped out. Partied. Made out with girls in their trucks.
This was his home. This place was a part of who he was, a place where he had tons of memories. Like Appleby was for her.
And yeah, she liked being here, seeing all of this, hearing his stories, more than she would have expected. More than she should.
Maybe it was because she’d already known most of the stories of the guys she’d dated before, but this felt more intimate than she’d been with any other guy before.
Dating before, even Garrett—maybe especially Garrett—hadn’t involved sharing stories. She’d known Garrett’s stories as well as her own. Their moms were best friends. They’d grown up almost identically. They’d gone to school together since kindergarten. They hadn’t dated until much later, but they’d had teachers and friends and summer activities in common forever.
“This is one of my dad’s favorite spots. He first taught me to fish right here.”
She looked around. “So, you’ve been here a lot?”
“A lot. With him. With the guys. Sometimes by myself.”
She took in the scenery with a new eye knowing that Mitch had seen this same view, these trees, the slight rise to the north, so many times. And he’d brought her here, specifically, on her first trip down the bayou. That touched her.
Hearing Mitch tell his own stories was a totally new experience. Not just because the stories involved things like alligators and rougarou—definitely not things that made regular appearances in stories from Iowa—but because listening to him tell the stories told her what was important and meaningful to him.
Mitch was sitting next to her on the bench, now that they weren’t moving much. He had his arm draped over the back of the bench seat behind her. He leaned in and pointed.
Paige followed his finger, squinting.
“See him?”
“No.”
He put his cheek against hers, tipping her chin slightly with his finger, then he pointed again. “There’s a big ol’ log, then just to the left…”
“Oh!” There was an alligator on the bank next to the log. He blended into the vegetation perfectly. She would never have noticed him on her own. “Wow.”
“I can maybe get him to come over. Or a friend of his. Or two.”
Paige felt her eyes widen, and she looked at him. “Uh. That’s okay.”
“You don’t want to see him up close?” Mitch gave her a grin.
“Nope.” She most certainly did not. “But… how would you get him to come over? You just call him over?”
He chuckled. “Actually, Owen and Sawyer can do that. Josh sometimes.”
“No way.”
“In certain areas, they can,” Mitch said with a nod. “Gators are very territorial, so they stay in their areas. Then those guys go to the same spots over and over to give the tourists a show. The gators know the boats mean they’re gonna get fed. So, they start associating the guys’ voices with food, and they’ll swim over when they hear them.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Paige looked back at the alligator.
“Nope. I mean, I’d have to try just chucking marshmallows in the water and hope one was swimming close and came over. But those guys have pretty good luck.”
“They like marshmallows? No way.”
“Nope. They think they’re turtle eggs.”
“What?”
Mitch chuckled again. “They look like turtle eggs floating in the water. They just swallow them. They don’t taste them.”
“Those can’t be good for them,” Paige said, wrinkling her nose.
“I mean, they’re basically dinosaurs.” Mitch shrugged. “As Bailey says, you don’t get to be eight million years old by not being adaptable. I’d think if something like marshmallows could kill them, they wouldn’t still be walking around millions of years later.”
“Bailey?” Paige asked. “She’s Chase’s girlfriend, right?”
“Yeah. You’ll get to meet her at the wedding, if not before. She sometimes stops down to say hi even when Chase isn’t here.”
“And she’s really into alligators?”
“It’s her job. She works for the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries and specifically studies alligators and frogs.”
“And she’s fine with the marshmallows?”
“Nope. She wants us to stop doing that. But she admits that it would take more than a blob of sugar to really hurt these guys.”
Paige laughed lightly. “Got it. Well, let’s not get the blobs of sugar out today. I don’t need the dinosaurs coming over here.”
He just hugged her closer to his side.
“How many people can fit on one of the bigger airboats?” she asked after a moment.
“About twenty or twenty-five.”
“Do you have any idea how many people Maddie and Owen are inviting to their wedding?”
“No idea.”
“Huh.” Paige chewed her bottom lip, studying the cove they were floating in.
“But we could get about sixty-five people on one of the pontoon boats.”
Paige pivoted quickly on her seat to face him. “What? Really? You have pontoons?”
“Yep. They’re covered too.”
Her eyes widened. “So, we could hang things from the cover? Decorations?”
“Sure. Probably.”
“Is there a sound system?”
“There is. We use them for sunset cruises and bachelor or bachelorette parties, birthday parties, that kind of stuff.”
“That would be perfect.”