Page 30 of Falling for Her

“Apparently, we’re going fishing. So we’re going to have to grab a couple of those lunch boxes that you guys have, too. You don’t know where I can maybe rent some fishing poles? Do they rent those here?”

Everleigh silently chuckles. “I can call my husband, Brock. He’s at his mechanic shop right down the road. He took Sage fishing two weeks ago. She did not like it one bit. So he has a couple of rods he can lend you guys.”

“Great,” I say as Everleigh puts the coffee on the tray.

“Careful, that cup is hot. Why don’t you guys go sit down, and I’ll call Brock for you and have him bring them over.”

“Oh no, that’s too much trouble.”

“I left the house this morning early, and he hates it when I do that, so he’ll thank you for it,” she explains as I pick up the tray.

“So have you ever been fishing before?” I ask Asa as we sit at a table, hoping he knows what to do. He shakes his head. “Great, so it’ll be the two of us against the world,” I tease him.

Everleigh delivers the bagels to our table and lets me know that Brock is on his way.

Five minutes later, he’s walking into the bakery with two rods in his hands.

“Hey Asa,” he says, then turns to me. “You must be Finley.” I smile at him. “I’m Brock. Here you go.” He hands me a big brown plastic box with a handle. “There’s some extra fishing line and tackle in there.”

“Thank you,” I reply, taking a deep breath. “If I damage them, I’ll pay for them.”

“Don’t worry about it. Keep them. It’s safe to say Sage is not going to be going fishing anytime soon.” He nods as someone at another table greets him. “You’re going to need fresh worms.”

“Eww.” A grimace takes over my face. “Where does one get those?”

“There’s a stand not too far from the fishing creek.”

“And where would the fishing creek be?” I pull out my phone to take notes.

“You sure you’re going to be okay going fishing?” he asks. I want to tell him I’m not going to be okay. I actually want to go to the spa instead.

“It’s fine,” I assure him, trying not to sound petrified.

“Okay, just be careful. That creek’s got a fast undercurrent.” I nod my head, making a mental note to look up “fast undercurrent.”

Just as we finish our bagels, Everleigh hands us a square cooler box. “Here, you can return this whenever you get a chance. It will keep everything cold. I put in some waters and snacks.”

“That’s amazing,” I say. I pay the bill and tell her I’ll be back tomorrow to return it.

I carry the cooler while Asa carries the fishing rods and tackle box. I put the address Brock gave me into the GPS, and it takes us right to the little hut he told us about.

I pull over, and the man gives me a box of dirt and says, “Fish around in there for the worms.”

I don’t even want to touch the container, but I hold my breath and walk to the car. Opening the back door, I hold it out.

“This is so gross.” I hand it to Asa, and he snickers and takes it like it’s no problem.

I park the car on the side of the road by the creek and look around. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Asa. He’s already out of the car. “Ugh,” I groan and grab the cooler while he juggles the rods and the worms.

We walk down the worn path toward the side of the creek. The water is moving down quickly. “Don’t get too close to the edge,” I warn him.

“I won’t,” he assures me, putting down the container. “What do we do?”

“Asa.” I look at him. “When you said let’s go fishing, I thought you knew how to fish.”

“I told you I don’t,” he replies. “Don’t you?”

“The closest I’ve come to a fish is eating one.” I pull out my phone. “Let’s see what it says online.”