“Will you teach me?”
“Sure, but I warn you, we’ll be leaving at the crack of dawn. That’s when the fish bite best.”
“I’ll be ready.”
When they fell silent, she heard once again music. “What the hell is that?” she asked, not recognizing the tune.
Brody grinned, his teeth glistening white in the deepening night. “That is a classic from the eighties called “Armageddon It” by Def Leppard.”
Hannah listened, tapping her foot. “It’s kind of catchy. Where’d you find it?”
“When I was travelling, I picked up quite a few MP3 players. It makes the time pass quicker when you’re on the road.”
“Why did it take you so long to come back?”
“Biggest reason? I was chicken. I didn’t know if I could handle knowing everyone I grew up with died. And on the way, I ran into delays. The bike would break down. I’d find a survivor who needed a hand. Winter forced me to hole up in one town for a while. Then I ran into trouble a few times with some folk who thought they could order the rest of us around. It’s a shame violence and ignorance didn’t die along with the rest of the world.”
Hannah shivered at his words. She knew firsthand violence hadn’t died. With the world decimated, it boggled the mind that anyone would even think about it.
Brody saw her shudder and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll
Like a cold shower, these plaguing thoughts woke her from the comfortable zone she’d allowed to sink over her while in his presence. It would be all too easy to forgive and forget.
As if he read her mind, he spoke softly. “I’m never leaving you alone again, kitten. I wish you’d believe me. I still love you.”
With a strangled cry, Hannah jumped up from the step and tore into the house like the bats of hell chased her.
She fled to her room, hiding from the fact she loved him. Loved him so much it scared her.
Chapter Six
Brody waited for her out front, barely sleeping the night before, so excited to finally find himself spending a few hours alone with Hannah, if she hadn’t changed her mind. She’d taken off so quickly the night before after he’d confessed his love to her. But he wanted her to believe him and love him again.
Unable to stand still, he fidgeted with the straps on the luggage rack attached to the back fender of his bike. He had a cooler and the fishing poles strapped to the back fender. Good thing he’d been able to break the rods down into smaller segments or else they’d have had to carry them on the bike jousting lance style.
With a yawn, Hannah finally appeared dressed in loose track pants and a hoodie, her hair back in a tight ponytail. She looked so soft and still asleep that he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her ‘til her blood rushed through her body with sexual awakening. Damn, he needed to stop these thoughts. Hannah would come to him only when she was ready.
But I wish she’d hurry up, ‘cause if my balls get any bluer, they’ll probably fall off.
Coming down the steps, she approached the bike, and he could smell the clean scent of soap. “Where did you get all this stuff?” she asked looking over the mound of equipment.
“On one of my raiding trips into town. Good thing I picked up more than one pole. Ready?” Brody swung his leg over the bike and started it, tensing only a little when she clambered on behind him, her arms wrapping tight around his torso. He swallowed hard when her full breasts pushed into his back. Brody closed his eyes for a second, savoring the feel of her body pressed so intimately, his instant erection straining in his jeans. The only way this could have felt better would have been if she’d been plastered against him naked.
With a fierce twist of the throttle, he took off. Hannah’s arms tightened, crushing him like the coils of an anaconda-and he loved it. Brody took the familiar roads and dirt paths to the river, wishing it lay farther away so he could enjoy the feel of her molded against him a little longer. Hannah would notice if he detoured though, so reminding himself he’d be spending the day alone with her, he turned onto the rutted track leading to his favorite fishing spot as a kid. He slowed down only when they hit the grassy embankment just past the thin line of trees. He’d no sooner stopped than Hannah hopped off, her rounded tush, even in her loose clothes, swinging sexily as she wandered to the river’s edge.
Brody kept an eye on her as he unpacked the fishing gear. She looked so beautiful in the early morning light, her hair shining and her face soft with pleasure as she dipped her toes in the water, her shoes already discarded on the bank.
Spreading a blanket, he sat down cross-legged with the poles and threaded them back together, clipping bobbers, hook, and bait on their ends. Hannah wandered from the water and sat beside him.
“Where’s the worms?” she asked, lifting one of the baited hooks and wrinkling her nose at the hairball on the end.
“This is not the Stone Age, woman. Real fishermen use lures. That furry one you’re looking at is a Murdish minnow streamer.”
“Looks like something I pulled out of my hairbrush.”
“Yeah, well, for the bass we want to catch it will hopefully look like lunch. If those don’t work though I do have some plastic worms as backup. Now here, this is yours.” He handed her one of the poles, and she stood up with it, the hook swinging.
“Whoa! Watch where you’re pointing that thing.”
Her cheeks blushed a becoming pink, and she held the rod away from him while he stood too. Gesturing for her to follow, he went down to the water’s edge.
“Now watch what I do.” He instructed, exaggerating the movements required to cast the line. With the ease of years of experience, his lure flew across the water, landing with a little splash, the current pulling the line taut.
Hannah adopted his stance and flicked her rod. Nothing happened, and she scowled at him and her fishing pole. “Why didn’t it work?”
“Remember to click that button just as you fling it forward.”
She pulled back again and whipped the rod forward. The hook and lure ejected a few feet and stopped dead.
Brody held in a laugh as she cursed. “Stupid thing is broken.”
Wedging his pole into the soft ground and bracing it with rocks, he went over to give her a hand.
“Let me show you how it’s done.” He wrapped his arms around her, placing his hands over hers. Her lush bottom tucked into his groin, making him forget for a moment what he meant to teach her. But he had a hard-on that knew exactly what it wanted to do, and apparently she felt it nudging for she turned her face toward him with a gasp.
Hannah’s frustration with the whole fishing thing faded as her body interested itself in the pole poking against her backside. Even through her thick cotton pants, she could feel his erection, and it made her wet in response. A part of her knew she should move, but another part-the one that had spent so many nights aching for this-wouldn’t let her. She barely heard him as he told and showed her how to cast the fishing line.
