“I think I’ll take a walk.”
“You okay?” He didn’t look up.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” She wasn’t, but she really doubted he would ask her anything else if she used that as an excuse. Men usually shied away from that sort of thing.
Cal watched her walk away and was riddled with guilt. Why had he pushed her about her parents? How the hell was he supposed to know her family had a business arrangement with her?
Maybe he’d suspected it from the little things she’d told him here and there, but he hadn’t realized it was as bad as what she’d just told him. What was worse, she didn’t seem to mind.
No wonder she’d gotten the nickname The Barracuda. Look at how she was raised. He shook his head and went back to preparing their meal.
Once the fire was burning good, he set the skillet in the center and waited for the oil to get hot. He’d already rolled the fish filets in cornmeal.
When he thought about families who made appointments to see each other, Cal realized that he and Brian were getting close to doing the same thing. They’d made an appointment to go riding on Friday.
No, it wasn’t the same as Nikki and her parents. He and Brian still had meals together and they dropped in on each other all the time. They didn’t have to schedule time to see each other, but apparently Nikki did.
What? Did he feel sorry for her now? Was he going soft? No, Nikki wanted a story and she’d do anything to get it. He wouldn’t forget that fact, either.
He glanced up as she returned and couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of her breasts, the gentle swing in her hips. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t know any state secrets because it wouldn’t take much to make him guilty of treason.
He focused on placing the fish in the skillet. They sizzled when they hit the hot grease. “Hand me a plate,” he said.
“Do you and your brother come out here often?” she asked after she handed him a couple of plates.
She eased to the ground. She was still sore. Maybe he’d rub the liniment in the places she wouldn’t be able to reach. He closed his eyes and counted very slowly to five.
“Not as much as we used to,” he said.
“Why?”
“No time, I guess.”
“Am I the first girl you’ve ever brought out here?” she asked as she looked around.
Nikki might have put her pole down but she was still fishing. “You’re the first.”
“Then I’m honored.”
He busied himself opening the can of pork and beans, then dumped them into a pan.
“Tell me about football. When did you get started playing?”
Was she planning on dragging his career through the mud, too?
“I started in peewee. I was eight.”
She smiled. “I bet you were cute.”
He relaxed. Maybe she just wanted to know more about him. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re a handsome man. Did all the cheerleaders start drooling when you walked by after you got older?”
“Who said they ever stopped?”
She laughed. “Oh, that was bad. I didn’t know you had an ego that big.”
Something about her was different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He wondered if she sensed the change, too. Maybe she would get her story, but he had a feeling she would get a whole lot more than just an article about him and Cynthia.
Cal finished frying the fish and set the pan of pork and beans on the fire. As soon as they were warm, he poured some on the two plates and added a filet of fish to each. “Here you go,” he said and handed her a plate.
“Is this how people traveled a long time ago? A couple of tin plates, a couple of forks, a spoon, and some iron pans?”
“I don’t know, but then I’m not the one doing research. I’m sure they didn’t have it this good, though.”
She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. That’s right, feel the guilt. Maybe he should just tell her that he knew who she really was.
“This is so good,” she said as she closed her eyes and took a bite.
She acted as though she hadn’t eaten a hot meal in days. And she probably hadn’t. He had a feeling she’d bought some food when she went shopping because the stove at the cabin still hadn’t been used. All the wood was still in the pile. Nope, she didn’t fool him for a second.
But she was right about the fish. It had been a long time since he’d eaten fresh fish and it tasted as though the best five-star chef had cooked it.
They didn’t speak again until they’d finished off the last of the fish and almost all the beans. Cal set his plate down.
Nikki looked up and caught him studying her. “I guess you probably think I’m a pig for eating so much.”
“You have a healthy appetite.” No, he was thinking a lot of things, but it wasn’t that she ate too much.
“Most men are put off by a woman who eats too much.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“Good.”
“Would it bother you if it did?”
She grinned. “No, I love to eat and I don’t care who knows.”
“I didn’t think it would bother you. Not much does.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She set her empty plate on top of his. “So why did you and your last girlfriend break up?” she asked out of the blue.
Just when things were going well, too. “Is it important?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to do the same thing.”
“Is our relationship that important to you?”
When she looked at him, he could almost believe that it was.
“Isn’t it to you?”
He thought of her milking Bessie for the first time, or Bessie Two, as she called the cow. Then he remembered the excitement on her face when she rode a horse for the first time. Skinny dipping, making love. Even fishing today.
And then it hit him. The reason why he made excuses to be around her. He liked watching her reaction to everything she did and saw. He liked her tenaciousness. He liked a hell of a lot about her.
“Yeah, I think it could be,” he said.
“Then tell me about her. Did you love her?” She set her plate down and lay back on the grass staring at him.
And looking oh so innocent, except he knew better. He picked at a blade of grass. If he told her the truth, Cynthia would become a laughingstock. There were some people who would like that. Cynthia was certainly no angel and she’d pissed a lot of people off in her thirty-one years. But he wouldn’t tarnish her reputation any more than it was already tarnished.
“She broke it off with me.”
Nikki raised her eyebrows.
“Why? Do you snore or something?”
“I guess you’ll find out tonight.”
Before she could ask any more questions, he stood, then reached a hand down to her. “Come on, we’d better wash the plates before it gets dark.”
She followed him down to the river, but then she surprised him by taking off her shoes and socks. He wondered just how far she would go. Hell, he already knew the answer to that.
But much to his disappointment, she rolled up her jeans and waded into the water.
“It’s cold!” She tiptoed out as quickly as she’d gone in.
“This river has always had the coldest water. I think that’s why the fishing is always so good.” He set the plates down and toed off his boots. His socks were next. He needed to let them dry out anyway since he’d been in the water with them on. If his grandmother were still alive, she’d give him what for.
“Okay, where’s the soap to wash the dishes?”
“We don’t need any.” Cal picked up one of the tin plates and walked into the water. She was right about it being cold. “This is how the pioneers washed the dishes.” He bent over and scooped up a handful of sand off the bottom of the river and began to scrub the plate.
“You’re washing our dishes in mud?”
“It has a built-in scouring pad and the fish eat all the stuff at the bottom of the river so it’s clean.”
He glanced at her. She still didn’t look like she bought what he was telling her. He set the plate on the bank and grabbed the bean pan, then handed it to her. “Try it.”