Jennifer Crusie - Manhunting

His shoulders were broad, with the kind of muscle that came from everyday work. He leaned toward her and she tensed, remembering Lance, but all he did was hand her the second rod. “Beer’s in the cooler,” he said, and settled back into the cushions at his end of the boat, the pillows under his head, tipping his hat over his face until all she could see was the curve of his mouth under his mustache.

Kate looked at her rod.

“Jake,” she said softly. “There’s no bait on my hook.”

“If you bait your hook,” he said patiently from under his hat, “you will catch a fish.”

She waited for further explanation but he was finished. Evidently for Jake, fishing meant sleeping half naked under a willow tree. When she thought about it, it made sense. She didn’t like fish anyway.

She cast her line in and jammed her pole beside his and then made herself a nest in the cushions, stretching her legs out beside his, careful not to touch him. She leaned back and stared up through the willow, listening to the water lap the side of the boat and the wind gently stir the drooping silver leaves above her. The sound was narcotic, and after a while Kate began to relax for the first time in as long as she could remember. Maybe life doesn’t count out here, she thought lazily. Maybe time stops out here, and nothing matters. Maybe it’s magic. She smiled and watched the clouds, filtered through the curtain of willow leaves above her.

After a while she looked over at Jake. His chest was rising and falling in slow deep rhythms, and unconsciously she started to breathe with him, feeling the last of the tension drain from her body as the boat drifted gently in the water.

It was a shame he wasn’t her type. He wasn’t bad-looking, even with the broken nose, and he was certainly the most restful man she’d ever met. But he definitely did not fit her plan. He didn’t have a distinguished or aggressive bone in his body. In fact, looking at him now, she wasn’t sure he had bones in his body. He just sort of flowed everywhere. He’d get eaten alive in the city.

Still, it was nice to relax with a man for a change. Even if he was unconscious.

Her line jerked.

She sat up and grasped the pole, catching the reel as it played out. There was definitely something tugging on the other end.

“Jake,” she said softly. He didn’t move, and she could tell by his even breathing that he was still asleep. “Jake,” she said louder, but he slept on.

The fish jerked against her line. “Jake!” she yelled, smacking him on the leg with her foot.

The breathing stopped. “What?” he said, from under his hat.

“I’ve got a fish.”

“That’s nice.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Throw it back.”

“Jake.”

He yawned and sat up slowly, pushing his hat back on his head. “If I’d known you were going to be this energetic, I wouldn’t have brought you.”

“I didn’t do this on purpose.” She reeled her line in and a tiny sunfish broke the water.

“You got an aquarium?” Jake asked.

She brought the pole around to grab the fish, but it flipped and struggled and she couldn’t catch it After it had flipped past his face twice, Jake reached up and caught it, easing the hook out of its mouth and tossing it back in the water.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you have a knife?”

“Depends on what you want to use it for.”

“To cut this damn hook off before any more fish try to commit suicide on my line.”

He grinned at her and gave her his pocketknife. She cut the line above the hook and handed both the hook and the knife back to him. Then she dropped her line in the water and leaned back in the boat. “Thank you,” she said. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Not at all.” He started to lean back and stopped. “Do you have to be back by any certain time?”

“I’m playing golf at two with Peter somebody,” Kate said. “If I set foot on shore much before that, Valerie will make me play with the other kids. I am in no hurry, trust me.”

“Valerie is nobody to mess with,” Jake agreed. “So you’re playing vertical golf, are you?”

“What? On that hill? Absolutely not,” Kate said.

“We’re playing on the wimp course in back of the hotel.”

“Want to bet?” Jake said.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“If this is the Peter I’m thinking about, he cheats,” Jake said. “And it’s a lot easier to cheat on the hard course.”

“He doesn’t cheat,” Kate said, looking at Jake with disgust. “Just look at him. He has ‘man of distinction’ written all over him, just like in one of those expensive liquor ads.”

“Those are usually the ones who cheat,” Jake said. “Don’t bet money with him. Or anything else you’d hate to lose.”

“Very funny,” Kate said. “I don’t believe it. Who says so?”

“The caddies.” Jake settled back down in his end of the boat.

“The caddies love him,” Kate said. “Penny said they actively beg to go around with him.”

“Sure, they do,” Jake said. “He tips them so they won’t rat on him. The per-capita income of caddies has gone up considerably since ol’ Pete came to stay.”

“I still don’t believe it,” Kate said, and slipped back down on her spine in her end of the boat. “He’s just not the type.”

Jake laughed, and she closed her eyes and ignored him. She could feel him watching her, but the water lapping at the side of the boat was so soothing that she forgot him and drifted off.

Jake tipped back his hat and watched her sleep. She looked a lot more vulnerable in her sleep. Almost like a kid. But she still looked cool and untouchable with her hair all pulled back, dressed in those blah colors. There was no heat in her. Which, when he considered it, was a damn good thing because, her efficiency notwithstanding and much against his better judgment, he could easily have been attracted to her if he hadn’t been married to someone like her. He remembered Tiffany bitching at him for taking life too easy. It had taken him a long while to realize what the problem was, but he’d figured it out eventually-she’d assumed she’d married somebody like herself: career-driven, focused, successful. After a few months of married life she’d realized that life was pretty much a game to Jake, and she’d set out to change all that. Well, she had. They were divorced before the year was out.

The really sad thing was that neither one of them had lied to the other or pretended to be anything but what they were. They’d both just willfully misread each other because of the raging physical attraction they’d felt. Jake looked again at Kate curled peacefully at the other end of the boat and reminded himself, The physical stuff doesn’t last. Remember that, no matter what she does.

Of course, he admitted to himself, Kate wasn’t doing anything. He’d mentally kicked himself for inviting her into the boat, but she was turning out to be good company. Quiet except for the battle with the fish. A woman who could take teasing without getting huffy, and who didn’t come on to him, didn’t expect him to entertain her, who just lay back in the boat and went to sleep. A truly restful woman.

And she wasn’t boring. In fact, she made a damn good story. Last night at the luau, he’d found himself telling his parents and uncle about Frank and Lance, with Will putting in disclaimers. “You make her sound like the Terminator,” Will had said, laughing. “She is,” he’d said. But she didn’t look dangerous now. She looked sort of…sexless. Like a kid sister. He’d never had a sister. Maybe he’d borrow Kate as a sister for the time she’d be around. It would be nice to have a friendship with a woman, and Kate would be absolutely safe because she was interested only in Yuppies, and he wasn’t going to fall for her.