mountains.
“What do you want to do today?” she asks after she takes her first bite of waffle.
“I want to take the canoe out on a nearby lake and do some fishing.”
Her fork stops midway between her plate and her mouth and she stares at me. “Fishing?”
“Yes.”
“Like, with a pole?”
“Since I’m not a bear, that is my preferred way to fish, yes.”
“Huh. Well, okay.”
“Nothing’s biting my hook.”
I laugh and cast my line out on the calm water. “We’ve been out here for fifteen minutes, Lex. You have to be patient.”
“I don’t think I have patience,” she says with a sigh. She blows a raspberry through her lips and then looks around the lake. “Are we trespassing?”
“I own it.”
“You own what, the property we launched from?”
“The lake,” I reply.
“Hold on. You own the whole lake?”
I reel in my hook and then cast again. “After Kane bought the cabin, and I came up a couple of times, I decided that I’d like to build something up here someday. Don’t get me wrong, I love the ocean, and because it reminds me so much of Ireland, I’ll always be there. But a small place to get away that’s all mine and not something I bum off my brother sounds good to me, as well. So, when this property came up for sale, I bought it.”
She glances around again. “How many acres?”
“About one hundred. The lake takes up almost half of that, which leaves plenty of space to build a cabin nearby.”
She’s staring at me now, but I see her pole moving with something tugging on it.
“You have a fish.”
“I have a what? Oh!” She starts to reel it in, and when the fish is close to the canoe, I reach down with the net and help her bring it aboard. “Look at that! My first fish.”
“It’s a good size, too. Looks like a rainbow trout.”
“How do you know?”
I turn the fish on its side. “See? It has a rainbow in the scales.”
“Beautiful,” she murmurs. “So, I can hike and fish. I’m a regular outdoors enthusiast.”
“Says the woman who just, five minutes ago, was over it,” I reply with a laugh as I unhook the fish and let it go back into the water.
“What did you do that for?”
“You mean you wanted to gut it and cook it later?”
She scrunches up her nose. “No. I didn’t want to gut it. But I thought we’d eat whatever we caught.”
“We can’t eat them without gutting them.” I laugh at the look of horror on her beautiful face. “This is just for fun. We get the sport of catching them, and they get to live.”
She’s sitting two feet away, staring at me.
“What?”
“I need more bait. That fish ate it.”
“So bait your hook. You saw me do it.”
Lexi clears her throat. “Listen. I know I’m a pro at this whole outdoorsy thing and all, but I don’t touch worms. Not today or any other day. So, if you want me to toss this godforsaken line back into the water, you’re going to have to impale the worm yourself.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic.”
But I grab her hook and quickly stick a squirming worm on it, and she casts the line back out into the water.
“I can’t believe I didn’t know that you own a whole lake.”
“It’s not a very big lake.”
“It’s a lake.”
I shrug. “I suspect there’s plenty we still don’t know about each other. Like when did you get the tattoo on your shoulder?”
She smiles softly. “It was a stupid place to put it because I always forget it’s there. I got it after I published my first book. It says I Rise in French. I wanted to write for years. Actually, correction, I did write for years. I went to school to be a nurse, but creative writing really set my heart on fire. Anyway, I sent a couple of manuscripts off to agents and was told no a lot. Like, a lot. One agent told me I was a horrible writer, and I should stick to my day job.
“He was a complete dick.”
“And totally wrong, by the way,” I reply.
“Thank you. You have to have a thick skin in this business. And I do. But that one stung pretty bad. About a year later, I got up the nerve to attend a conference in New York, and I took some workshops from some incredible, very well-established authors. The thriller world is small, and it was awesome to network with those people. I made some friends, got some