Barbara Dunlop - Dan All Over Again

He shot her a backward look that reeked of sheepishness.

“You’re not wearing underwear?”

“I’m behind in laundry.” He shrugged like a little boy caught with his finger in the cake icing. “At five in the morning, underwear’s not a big concern.”

“Oh, gawd.”

“And you get to patch me up. Good thing you brought those bandages.” He nodded with boyish satisfaction.

“Oh, no, I’m not putting a bandage there!”

“That duty always falls to the fishing goddess, and that’s you. Besides, I won’t be able to see what I’m doing.” He turned to face her, taking the lure from her hand and hooking it to the fishing pole eye. “Want me to throw you over my shoulder and take you down to the cabin?”

“Uh…no! Okay, okay, I’m going already.” She grabbed up those treacherous bandages and followed him into the cabin. “Dan! What are you doing?”

He was standing there with his shorts dropped to his ankles, glistening back and pale, bare butt facing her. He started to turn around to answer, but she quickly reached out and placed her hands on his wet back.

“Don’t…turn around.”

At a yipping sound, she turned to find both Thornton and Sammy standing in the entranceway watching them with great interest, their tails wagging. “Oh, go away!”

He started to turn around again. “What’d I do?”

“Not you!” She kept him firmly in place. “Where’s your disinfectant?”

“It’s in that little cabinet over the sink.”

After getting the bottle, she took a deep breath and lowered herself to the height of his derriere, cloth in one hand, bandage in the other. The skin was smooth and the white buns perfectly formed. She swallowed a sigh and applied peroxide and then the antibiotic.

“Ouch!”

“There,” she said, slapping on the bandage. “Now put your shorts on.”

He started to turn around again, but she stopped him just in time. “Before you turn around!”

He yanked up his shorts and turned. “What’s the matter? As I recall, my manhood was being called into question earlier. Don’t you want to see evidence to the contrary?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. I’m going up and hook myself a real fish.” With a lift of her eyebrow, she launched herself back to the safety of the open deck.

Dan was tucking in his shirt when he emerged, wearing a different pair of shorts. To her ultimate mortification, she heard cheers and applause. She scanned the boats in the area and saw men raising their arms in victory.

“Way to go, McDermott!”

“The fishing god knows how to catch ’em!”

Dan puffed up his chest, an enormously cocky grin on his face. “Well, what can I say? She couldn’t wait to get her hands on me.”

She made a sound of frustration, grabbed the pole and flung it forward. The lure whipped past Dan’s face and dangled mockingly at the end.

“Whoa, babe, let me show you how it’s done. No need to hurt anyone. Again.”

The world “babe” echoed nicely in her mind. “I suppose you think that was my fault, too.”

“No comment.” He came up behind her and put his fingers over hers. “Pull this down; that releases the line. You need to hold it with your finger here, nice and tight, so when you rear back, it won’t go flying. We call that premature ejac—uh, never mind. When you cast, release it at the farthest point of thrust.”

Like she could think with his damp, hard body pressed up behind hers. “All right, I’ve got it.” She shook him away. All this talk about showing her how it’s done, premature ejac—she laughed, shaking her head. Not to mention thrusting! It had definitely been too long, and now was no time to realize it.

She tried to remember everything he’d just said, but the lure went straight down into the water with a loud plop! instead of arcing gracefully through the air.

“Try it again. You let go too early.”

“Premature ejaculation?” she asked, getting a grin out of him. “Now I know how you guys feel.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.”

“Hey, Danny boy!” a familiar voice called from a short distance. “You’re thinking with the wrong rod, bringing a woman out here during a tournament.”

She cringed before even looking up to see Hal’s grinning face as his boat drifted close. He was an older version of Dan, thirty pounds heavier, with a perpetual drunk look about him. To substantiate that impression, the hand he gestured to Cassie with held a can of beer.

“Keep your business out of my rods,” Dan told him.

Her mouth dropped open. “You told your dad to mind his own business?” Even Hal looked surprised.

“Sure, haven’t I always?”

Hal leaned forward and squinted his eyes at her. “Hey, isn’t that what’s-her-face?”

“Nice to see you again, too, Fred,” she shot back.

“Ooh, she’s still feisty! Danny, you gonna let her talk to me like that?”

“Knock it off, Hal.”

“Knock what off? Here, have a beer.” He tossed a can to Dan. “You want one, Wanda?”

“I’ll pass, Fred. I don’t usually imbibe until, oh, at least nine in the morning.”

“Suit yourself,” Hal said with a shrug, taking a big swig and burping.

Dan discreetly set his can on the bench. Then she heard it: squeak, squeak, squeak. When Roger stepped up from the cabin on Hal’s boat, Cassie made a decidedly unfeminine sound. He wore a dress shirt with the Looney Tunes bow tie, and his nose was covered in white zinc, as were his lips.

“Boy, they just don’t have any standards when it comes to who they’ll let join this tournament,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Or are you the booby prize?”

Roger blinked. “Cassie? What are you doing here? You don’t fish. And what do you mean, booby prize? Oh, you’re kidding. Ha, ha.”

“I most certainly do fish. Why, I just caught a big fish a few minutes ago.” She turned to Dan. “That’s the weenie I was telling you about.”

“You’re the guy who has to go around stealing other people’s accounts, eh?” Dan asked.

“I didn’t steal her account,” Roger said with a sniff. “It was a good business decision backed by our boss.” He rubbed his nose and left a big smear across his cheek. “Who are you?”

Dan slung his arm around her shoulders. “I’m the guy who’s going to teach her everything there is to know about fishing so she can steal the account right back.”

“I’m the only one who’s going to present the campaign to the client.” His grin looked funny with the white lips. “Unless you want to work with me.”

“I’m pitching the account on my own.”

“You can’t do that,” he whined.

“We’ll see about that,” Dan said, shocking her with his uptake of her defense, though she was slightly distracted by the hand that hovered just in front of her right breast.

“Says who?” Roger said.

“You don’t know Cassie very well, do you?” Dan said with a laugh.

“I’ve been trying to.” Roger did that sniffing thing again, making her wonder if it was a territorial ritual like the dogs did.

Dan chuckled. “Well, I was married to her, and you know what? I don’t envy you, not at all. But you’ll learn soon enough.”

She warmed at those words, but she put them aside for now. “I had no idea Hal and Roger were friends.”

“I’ve never seen him with Roger before. My guess is that your weenie doesn’t know the least thing about fishing, and he’s here doing the same thing you are.”

A grin spread across her face. “I’ll bet you’re right.” She called to Roger. “Since when do you fish, anyway?”

“I’ve been out on boats fishing nearly my whole life. I’m almost a pro. I could go on, but I’d just embarrass myself.” Roger’s knuckles were white where they gripped the railing on the boat. Wait a minute. She recognized that particular shade of green coloring his face. He was seasick! And he’d left his pills at the office.