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A faint blush crept into her cheeks. “I’ll wait out here.”
He watched—mesmerized by the relaxed swing of her hips—as she headed toward the dock with Harold.
It seemed so...right, having her here, as if she belonged. As if he ought to be able to see her out on the dock, her face lifted to the scent of the lake, today and tomorrow and the day after that.
When he’d changed into jeans and a sweater and come back outside, she was standing on the swaying dock and peering into the boat with an expression of awe.
“This sure isn’t anything like my dad’s fishing boat,” she murmured. “Carpeting? Upholstered seats? A console and steering wheel? Sheesh. How fast does this thing go, anyway?”
“Less than two miles an hour if I’m trolling—maybe sixty if I’m in a hurry to get somewhere.”
She gestured toward the boarding platform and ladder. “So you can waterski with it, too?”
“That’s one reason I got it. This spring you’ll have to come out and get up on a pair of skis.”
A shadow crossed her face. “Yeah...maybe.”
But maybe she’d be back in Dallas by then, and the reminder settled in the pit of Nathan’s stomach like a lead weight. “Hop in and we’ll get going. Grab a life jacket from one of the storage compartments under the back seats.”
“Is it okay to bring Harold?” She eyed the light-gray carpeting. “I could leave him on the shore, I guess.”
Her desire to bring the dog was almost palpable. If the carpet had been white silk, he couldn’t have refused. “No problem. He’ll love it.”
In minutes they were heading off into the lake at full speed with Sara and Harold at the bow. A minute later she moved back to a seat behind the windshield. “Brrrr. There’s quite a windchill out here!” she shouted about the roar of the engine, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks rosy. “But this is great!”
Once past Dawson’s Point, Nathan eased back the throttle and let the boat coast to a stop. The wake behind them caught up and rocked the boat as he readied the fishing gear and handed her a rod.
“What are we hoping to catch?”
“We’ll troll in the shallows—around four to six feet of water, where there’s heavy milfoil. That’s where the bait fish are right now, so the walleye and northern will be there, too.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” she teased, studying the red-and-white metal crankbait at the end of her line. “Aren’t they going to want something live and juicy—like worms?”
He nodded toward the minnow bucket and grocery sack on the floor. “If they don’t go for the crankbait, we’ll try frozen smelt or sucker minnows.” He noticed her shiver and hunch into her life jacket. “Are you warm enough? I’ve got some jackets stowed at the bow.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine. I love being out here.”
Her smile was so radiant he had the sudden urge to reach over, haul her into his arms and kiss her.
But she’d blithely said they should forget the kiss ever happened. So he could either risk another breezy put-down, or he could go after a nice walleye.
He’d probably be better off with the fish. She seemed completely oblivious to anything except being out on the water.
“I only remember casting and watching my bobber with my dad. I don’t think I’ve ever trolled before.”
“If one of us gets a strike, the other can stop to help with the net.”
At her wry glance, he added, “Don’t worry—when I catch something, I’ll let you know.”
She laughed as she fed out a few more yards of line. “I think you’ll be helping me.”
The engine purred as they trolled parallel to the southern shore of the lake.
“Did you find out anything more about Leon?” she asked casually after several minutes of silence. “Did someone deliberately shoot at him?”
“I’m not sure anyone could aim from that far away in the dark.”
“So it was a random shot?” She shuddered. “Scary.”
