“Nah, I think you’re safe. The piggy back ride was a nice touch, too.” She bumped her shoulder into his and smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“The hell I didn’t. Did you see the look on your face when your feet hit the ice? No, you didn’t. Why? Because your eyes were clamped shut.”

She threw her head back and laughed. The infectious sound filled up the tight quarters of the shanty, making him really glad he’d gone this route, even if it had started out a little rocky.

“How about we eat first and fish later? Unless you don’t want to stay that long.” He quirked an eyebrow as he dug the plates and utensils from a bag next to the jig poles and lure he bought before he left North Platte. He had all the same stuff at home in Omaha, too, but maybe he could leave everything with Jenny. Maybe they’d use it again someday.

“Now that you got me out here, we might as well make the most of this.” She winked and held the dinnerware while he pulled out the food and set it up on top of the cooler. Shaved prime rib, fresh rolls, creamy potato salad, some kind of pasta with olives, and apple dip with chunks of chocolate and caramel. “You weren’t kidding when you said you went overboard.”

“I’ve also got beer and hot cocoa.” He lifted a thermos with a modest smile. A guy had to be more than prepared when he was trying to impress a lady light years out of his league, and the pleased grin on her face made it all worthwhile.

She chose cocoa and they made small talk about his visit with his grandpa in North Platte while they ate.

“Wait—you mean he actually went up on the roof?” Jenny’s mouth slacked open and her pretty eyes went wide.

“Yep. Had a quarter of the snow shoveled, too. Hard to believe he’ll be eighty-two in a few months.” He popped the last of his sandwich in his mouth and sighed. “So you’re the creative type, huh? You do hair by day and sew by night? I saw the machine in the living room.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m creative, I just like to do things with my hands. Unfortunately, I spent most of my time at the salon, so I don’t quilt as often as I’d like. I did get some squares cut yesterday, though. That was awesome. It’s like therapy for me. Totally cathartic.”

“Baseball and fishing are that for me.” Neither of which he’d done in...hell, he couldn’t remember. Too damn long, that’s for sure.

“Is that why you chose to come out here today?” she asked quietly, stirring her fork through the little bit of potato salad left on her plate.

His first instinct was to deny it, but he caught himself before he acted on a habit he’d become too used to. That was the one thing he’d taken away from his sessions with Dr. Sherman—owning up to his insecurities rather than pretending they didn’t exist.

“Maybe? I guess I didn’t consciously think about it, but...” Last night sucked. And tonight he’d back in Omaha, further away from her, with no clue when he’d see her again.

“Well, let’s eat dessert and get to fishing then.” She smiled brightly and, not for the first time, her acceptance hit him hard. Did she genuinely care or was she just telling him what she thought he needed to hear?

“You go ahead. I cleaned up all the meat, so I’m good.” He stifled a burp...unsuccessfully, and she laughed. “Excuse me. God, I’m batting a hundred today, aren’t I?”

Just like that, she stopped spooning the apple dip onto her plate and turned to him, her brow furrowed. “I know we’re technically in the early stages of our friendship, but I don’t feel like I’ve just met you. Honestly, it sorta feels like we’ve known each other forever.”

That. A million times over. “Yeah. It’s crazy, but I’m with ya.”

“Then do us both a favor, okay?” She paused and he nodded. Hell, he’d do just about anything for her...already. “Keep it real with me. Just like you were in Vegas and just like you were earlier when you brought me here. I want to know you, Brody—not the guy you think you need to be to keep me interested.”

Goddamn, she knew where to land a punch when she wanted to, didn’t she?

“Come here a second. I want to tell you a secret.” She crooked her finger at him and like a moth to a flame he leaned in. Her breath fanned against his cheek and he shivered, her warmth a pleasant contrast to the chilly air around them. “I’m already interested, Superman.”

***

With a dozen bluegill in their bucket, Jenny and Brody called it a day on the lake. They packed up the remaining food and Tony’s portable shanty, and with lots of deep breathing, Jenny made it off the lake on her own two feet.

Brody turned his truck into her driveway just before six o’clock and she hated that he had such a long drive ahead of him.

“If you didn’t have to work in the morning, I’d ask you to stay.” Resting her head against the passenger seat, she turned to face him.

“And I’d take you up that offer. Unfortunately, I’ve got to be in St. Louis by tomorrow afternoon.”

“More driving?” Now she really felt bad.

“Some. I’m working this job with a few other guys, so we’ll switch out behind the wheel.” He shut off the engine and sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to leave. Spending the week with you would be a hell of a lot more fun than tolerating those assholes.”

She smiled. “What’s the project this week?”

“Doing some prep work for a big gas line expansion project this summer,” he grumbled. “Not quite as interesting as making old ladies feel like a million bucks.”

“Are you teasing me? Because I’ll have you know the old ladies are my favorite clients. They don’t tip worth a damn, but they have the best stories.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Can’t tell. Hairdresser code of ethics and all that.”

He dropped his head back against the rest and laughed. “I bet you hear a lot of shit.”

“See a lot of it, too. You know I run a full service salon, right?”

He shot her a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Put it this way—the ladies in Cameron County sure like their jewelry.”

Eyes wide, he asked, “You do piercings, too?”

“No.” This time she laughed. “I don’t do them, but I see them. A lot of them. While I’m waxing.”

Brody launched forward in the seat, his inner teenage boy coming out in full force. “Are you kidding me? You wax other chicks?”

She giggled again. “It’s not as exciting as it sounds. Believe me.”

His eyes darkened and he groaned. “Not gonna lie, Jenn, that’s a fucking hot image.”

“Somehow I knew you’d say that.” She rolled her eyes and nodded toward her front door. “Walk me in?”

They barely made it to the porch before he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. Likewise, she wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed into his hoodie. Sucking in a deep breath, she held it, locking his now-familiar scent into memory.

“Text when you get home?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“Yes, ma’am. It’ll be late though. You okay with that?”

“More than okay. I want to know you made it safely.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, sugar.” He rocked them from side to side and she closed her eyes, savoring his big arms around her.

“It’s my thing. The consummate caregiver.”

“Let me guess—if waxing beavers didn’t work out, you’d have been a nurse.”

She laughed until her knees went weak and Brody had to hold her tighter yet, though he wasn’t much help because he shook with laughter, too.

“I should’ve never told you,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “You’ll never take my job seriously again.”

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong, sugar—I have a whole new appreciation for what you do.” His hands slid from her lower back to her ass, pulling her hips against his. Unless he had a stick of dynamite in his jeans, he wasn’t lying.

Mmm, so tempting. Her pulse picked up and everything that made her feminine began to warm in response. Her hips rolled of their volition and he pushed back, the thick, taunting length of his erection pressing into her belly.