“Fine.” I surrender. “Go get the boat.”

Wyatt steps forward, grips my elbows and pulls me against him. “I’ll reward you, I promise.”

I lean in, letting my lips graze against his. “I plan to make you pay.”

“I have no doubt about that.”

He lets me go and gets busy. I never realized how intensive fishing is. He’s got all kinds of gadgets and different boxes. I’m praying the Jon boat or whatever it’s called is bigger than what I’m imagining, because I don’t know where all this crap will go.

Wyatt pulls a silver flat boat over. It has two benches on the inside and two oars. I cannot believe I’m entertaining this.

At. All.

He puts the boat half in and waves me over. “Hop in. I’ll push us off.”

I start to freak out a little. Not because I can’t swim, but because I don’t have any spare clothes or a bathroom close by. Does he expect me to handle fish? My stomach rolls at the thought, but I refuse to look like a baby, so I get in the boat.

Wyatt gets us out into the water without issue. It’s clear he knows what he’s doing. Maybe I’ll be okay.

“All right,” he says, breaking the silence. “Move over on this side, and I’ll get us set up.”

“Move?” I ask.

“Yes.” He nods. “Come sit over here. I’m going to put the blankets out and move this bench so we can sit on the bottom.”

“Yeah, it’s the moving part that I’m not really all that keen on.”

If we move . . . we rock the boat. I will freak out.

“Here,” he says, holding his hand out. “Trust me.” I close my eyes and count to three. I can do this. My hand touches his, and he slowly helps me over. “See, you did just fine.”

I’m so out of my element.

“We’re doing a spa next time.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Wyatt arranges the bottom of the boat with blankets, creating a bed-like spot for us. He helps me back down and curls up with me. His arm is around my back, and my head rests on his chest. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his heart. “You know we could’ve cuddled at home in bed,” I joke.

“But this is more intimate.” He kisses the top of my head.

He’s right. It is. Even with the chill in the air, I could fall asleep.

There are no sounds other than a few crickets and the faint sound of water lapping against the side of the boat. The only light is from the rising sun, and I know that if I opened my eyes to look, I would still be able to see a few stars. Normally the silence would freak me out, but it’s exactly like it should be here. The world moves around us, but right here, it’s only Wyatt and me. This is the most tranquil I’ve ever felt.

I doze off, so comfortable in his arms. The sun is finally overhead, and it wakes me. I lift my head to find him looking at me with a grin. “You feel better?” he asks.

“I feel good.”

His eyes grow serious as he stares at me. “I want to always make you feel good. You and that baby are my world, Angie. I know you’re scared. I see it, but little by little, I want to help show you that you have nothing to be afraid of.”

I’m not afraid, I’m freaking petrified. I don’t know how to be the girl he wants. I don’t fish or hunt. I don’t do dirt or animals. I’m the girl who paints her nails and shops like a pro. This isn’t me, and I don’t know how long he’ll find that cute.

“I think you underestimate how different we are.” I rest my chin on my hand.

“Different is sometimes better.”

“True.” I sigh. “It also can mean we’re not right for each other.”

Wyatt looks at the sky, rubs his hand on my back, and then moves my face closer to his. “I think the fact that we can lie in this boat, driftin’ on the water together, and not need to fill the silence is all the right we need. You’re not like any woman I’ve ever known. I think, considering all the women I’ve been with, the fact that I’ve never wanted more with anyone but you says something. You’re right; you’re different. You’re mine because I want you to be.”

I smirk. “So I’m yours?”

His grin grows playful. “You will be again.”

“Does that mean that you’re mine?”

“I’ve never been anyone else’s.”

I think about that. Neither of us have taken the steps to be with anyone on a serious note. We’ve both kept ourselves without strings. I think that means something. But Wyatt has known love. It may not have been reciprocated, but he’s felt it. I haven’t.

Instead of pushing and possibly ruining a tender moment, I just nod.

“Enough bein’ lazy. Fish need to eat, and we need lunch.”

“Umm.” I sit up a bit straighter. “I thought you were kidding. The only way I like my fish is rolled around some rice.”

Wyatt laughs. “You really have a love for food.”

“Shut up. I’m serious! I’m not really a fish person.”

“Have you ever fished before?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Well,” Wyatt chuckles, “how do you know you don’t like it? Plus, if you don’t catch anything, you’re going to be hungry,” he says as he grabs the poles. “I only brought stuff for a good fish fry.”

My stomach churns at the thought. I’m not a seafood person, especially not if it’s a fish we’re going to have to handle. I shudder. “That spa better have a salon attached.”

He ignores me and hands me the rod. “The line is ready, bait the hook.”

I have no idea what the hell he said. “Can you talk city to me?”

“You gotta put the food on the hook.” He hands me the tub full of worms.

I shake my head. “No, no, no. Not happening.”

“It’s a worm. It doesn’t bite.”

He opens the top, and I start to gag. Oh, I can’t. I put my head over the side of the boat in case this baby helps me a little.

“Hey.” He touches my back. “I’ll do it, baby. Don’t get sick.” Wyatt runs his hand up and down as I try to focus on anything but hurling. Because that won’t be embarrassing at all.

I take a deep breath through my nose and push it out of my mouth.

“Better?” he asks as I sit up.

“I’m okay.”

The nausea fades, but I know better then to watch what Wyatt is doing. So. Gross.

Wyatt tosses the line over the edge of the boat and then hands me the rod. “Just hold it out there, and if it gets a tug, start reeling it in.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

No one tells you that fishing is literally the most boring thing. We sit like this for five minutes, and I’m ready to row my butt to shore. After another ten minutes pass with Wyatt sitting there not doing anything and not talking, I can’t stop myself. “So?” I ask, looking at nothing. “What do we do now?”

“We wait.”

“For the fish?”

“That’s the goal.”

Wyatt looks content. I try to follow his lead, but I’m no longer tired thanks to our nap, and I’m going out of my skull. There’s nothing to watch. No people doing weird things that I can observe. The trees move. That’s about it.