The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman 2) - Page 70

Was Angie someone’s world since her parents died and Fisher lost his memories of her? It was such a kind thing of me to ask Fisher to destroy her in front of his entire family on Thanksgiving. I was ashamed of myself.

And tired.

Getting a call that a baby was ready to come into the world was exactly what I needed. But that call never came.

“Hey.” Rory smiled at me when she opened my door a crack. “Pie is being served.”

“Okay,” I said, staring at the ceiling.

The door clicked shut, but it did so with Rory on my side of it. Then the bed dipped. She laid herself next to me, also staring at the ceiling, as she reached for my hand.

“I know he loves you,” she said. “I just want you to have it easier than I had it. I don’t want love to be this complicated and messy for you.”

“Messy …” I laughed a little. “That’s how we know it’s real.”

“I adore Fisher … or I did. And honestly, it’s just all been a lot. I was hit pretty hard, completely out of the blue. It would have been a lot to handle five years ago, but add in the accident, his memory loss, and Angie … well … it’s more than my heart and brain can reconcile at the moment. And I know … I know I have no right to say this, but I’m going to say it anyway. Seeing you and Fisher that day in that situation was not what any mom wants to see.”

I laughed and laughed some more. Rory started to giggle too. She definitely had no right to say anything to me. She saw Fisher enjoying my breasts. I saw Rose doing so much more to her.

Rolling toward her, I tucked my hands under my cheek. “I know it’s not the way you imagined … it’s not the way I imagined … but your little girl is in love. And it’s big. And all-consuming. It’s scary. It’s exhilarating. And real. So if you want to be the mom you didn’t get to be when I was going through my teenaged years, then I’m going to need a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on as I fight like hell to get my prince.”

“Your prince …” She gave me a sad smile and rested her hand on my cheek.

“I need you to want my happiness more than Angie’s. And I know that’s hard because Angie is a good person. And her love story with Fisher is pretty amazing. But it’s not forever. I just … I know it.”

Rory nodded slowly. “I’ve got you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

After pie.

After an apology from my grandparents.

After playing six games of Hearts.

Fisher called me.

“I’m calling it a night.” I excused myself from the game when I saw his number on my phone’s screen. It was close to ten-thirty at night. “Hi,” I answered in a meek voice just as I reached my bedroom.

“I’m in your driveway.”

My heart sucked at staying in chill mode or staying mad at him very long.

“Want to go for a drive?”

“I suppose.” That was my version of chill, even though I was already grabbing a hoodie to wear over my leggings and heading down the hallway.

“Take your time.”

“Okay.” I ended the call while I pulled on my wool-lined boots.

“Going somewhere?” Rory asked as they picked up the cards and glasses from the table.

“I am.” I grinned.

“Okay. See you in the morning.”

Was she assuming I was coming home after they went to bed or not until morning? I was twenty-four. It didn’t matter. But what did matter was I knew she knew who I was leaving with and she didn’t give me anything but an honest smile.

“Goodnight.”

Everyone else told me goodnight as I went out the front door. A few snowflakes swirled in the cold air, and my lost fisherman was in his truck waiting for me.

When I climbed in, he gave me a reserved smile. I felt certain that was all he dared to give me after my unexpected call to him during Thanksgiving dinner with his family.

Fisher drove us to his house, and I wasn’t surprised. We didn’t speak on the short ride. When we arrived, he climbed out, but I didn’t. Stopping at the front of the truck, he looked at me expectantly for a few seconds before he made his way to my door and grabbed the handle. But he didn’t open it right away. He paused and that look spread across his face. The concentration. The wrinkled brow and narrowed eyes.

Then he lifted his gaze and kept it on me as he slowly opened my door.

“I opened your door for you, but I acted like I didn’t want to do it. I told you to pull the lever to make it open. I think I was an asshole to you.”

Tags: Jewel E. Ann Fisherman Romance
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