Playing for Keeps (The Game #2)(50)
Author: Emma Hart

“Marina,” Gramps says from the back seat. “We’re heading to the marina.”

Megan grins and turns in her seat, nodding her head. “Yep.”

“Why?” I frown slightly and glance at Gramps in the back seat. He taps a wrinkled finger against his mouth as he thinks, and Megan’s grin grows.

“Why do people usually go to the marina?” she asks.

“Boats,” I answer. Her eyes slide to mine, her excitement really obvious now. Her cheeks are flushed, but behind the light in her eyes there’s a hint of nervousness. Why …

“Fishing!” Gramps cries. “You’re taking us fishing!”

Megan nods vigorously. “I wanted to do something for you both. My parents were supposed to come this weekend but Dad had a work thing come up so they canceled. He had a boat booked to go out with Braden, so I asked if I could use it instead. I’m paying him back.”

I stop the car in the parking lot near the marina and turn around to see Gramps. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, and a lump rises in my own throat.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Megan, his eyes focused on hers. “Thank you.” She smiles in response, and Gramps shakes his head. “I’m gonna go to that fishing place over the road and get us some bait. Megan, do you fish?”

She shakes her head. “God, no. My dad taught Braden to fish, and his mom taught me to shop.” She grins. “It worked out well.”

“Then make sure they have three poles on that boat,” Gramps announces. “We’ll teach you to fish!”

“Oh, I, er, um …”

“Nope! You’re coming on that boat, so you’re fishing. No just sitting there and looking pretty. You can look pretty and fish at the same time, you know.” He winks and opens the car door.

“Hang on, Gramps.”

“I can get out of a car, boy. I’m not that old yet,” he scolds me, grabbing his stick and climbing out. “I’m getting bait. You go and sort out that boat.”

He hobbles across the street with his stick. I open Megan’s door for her, pull her out, and close to me. Her arms go round my waist and she leans her cheek against my chest.

“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head, letting my lips linger there. “Thank you for this. You don’t know how much it means to him.”

She pulls her head back and half-smiles. “Probably about as much as it means to you.”

I nod, realizing it’s true. “We haven’t fished since before the semester started.”

She runs her hands around to my stomach, her fingers splaying as they creep up my chest to my neck. “I don’t have to stay, you know. It’s your day. You and your Gramps can go out by yourselves if you–”

I silence her with a kiss. “No. No. Fishing was always our thing, just me and him, but if there was anyone in this world I want to share it with, it’s you.” And it’s true. She’s the only person I’d dream of sharing this with.

“Then let’s get to that boat. I bet he’s lethal with that stick, let alone fishing poles.”

~

The waters of the bay are calm today, and the small boat bobs along smoothly. Megan’s picnic is out of the way of any splashing water and she’s looking dubiously at the fishing poles. Her gaze drifts to the tubs of worms Gramps bought for bait and she scrunches her face up a little. I can’t help but smile.

“They’re just worms,” I comment as I casually hook one onto my pole.

“Exactly,” she mutters, still staring the tub down. “Worms. If I’d have known we’d be using real live worms, I …” She shudders. “I hate worms.”

I smirk. “They’re just worms, baby. You need them to hook the fish.”

“I know that.” She finally looks up at me. “I just wish I didn’t have to need them.”

Gramps hands her a pole. “You need to hook the bait.”

She takes a deep breath as I hold the tub out, trying to contain my amusement. Her fingers move toward the tub before she snatches her hand back, shuddering again.

It takes her five tries to grab one. Even then, she drops it.

“Grab the damn worm and slide that hook through it!” Gramps claps his hands. “Those fish ain’t gonna wait around all day to become someone’s dinner!”

“I … Ewwww!” she squeals as she grabs one quickly and slides it on. She holds the pole away from her body, the hooked worm floating through the air , and wipes her fingers on a rag next to her. “Ew, ew, ew, ew!”

I secure the lid on the tub and Gramps and I burst into laughter.

“Come on. We gotta catch some fish!” Gramps grabs his pole, hooks his bait, and casts out onto the water.

“Yeah …” Megan says vaguely. “I have no freakin’ idea how that works.”

I put my pole down and pull her up. “I’ll teach you.”

“He learned from the best!” Gramps calls from the other side of the boat.

I wink at Megan and position her in front of me, wrapping one of my arms around her stomach. “The wind is blowing from behind us, so we need to cast this way. If we try to go against it, it’ll just blow your line this way.”

“Right. But how do I cast it?”

I grin. “Patience. You need to hold the rod correctly.”

“Um, sure.”

I move my hand from her stomach and wrap my fingers around hers. “The reel needs to be facing down, and it should sit between your middle finger and ring finger for balance. Like this.” I move her fingers. “If that isn’t comfy, you can change it until it is.”

“Its fine,” she says a little breathlessly.

“Now …” I move my mouth closer to her ear. “You need to reel out until you have six inches of line hanging out, and turn the handle until the roller is directly under your middle finger.” I help her do it, my fingertips brushing against hers. “Now hold the line against the rod, and open the bait with your other hand.”

I take her free hand from the side of the boat and put it against the bait, opening it with her.

“Now what?” She leans back into me slightly.

“Point the rod at your target.” I help her position it. “Now we need to bring it up in a smooth, swift motion. You’ll feel when the top of the rod bends and as soon as it does, we need to push it forward. Halfway to the target, let go of the line. Then we’ll close the bait.”