Little Miss Lovesick (6 page)

“What? I’m trying to catch fish!” I looked at him indignantly and tried to pull away again. What does he know? The big tease.

“You are not. You’re pretending to try to catch fish. Emily there is actually trying to catch fish.” I looked past him at Emily, but my eyes came back to his.

I didn’t want to give away that I’d just turned girly-girl about the slimy beasts. I like being in the middle — not girly-girl, not tomboy, just in the middle. And having th
e
fishing guid
e
know that I’d just decided that catching something alive with bulging eyes and a gaping mouth and then killing it and eating it was making me wish there was a grocery store around here — well, that was more than I could take. When I signed up for this trip, I had no idea I wouldn’t like the stupid things.

“Fine. Say what?” I asked in exasperation.

He pulled my hand closer and grinned. “Say you think I have beautiful blue eyes.”

“You have blue eyes, now let me go.” I pulled away and he pulled me back.

“That’s not what I said.”

“You are a bully,” I said trying to inject some backbone into my spineless self. But my insides felt like little firecrackers were going off all over.

“You must like it.” His cute little dimples deepened. “Or you’d say it and get your hand back.”

I narrowed my eyes and sucked in my breath. “I-do
-
no
t
-like-it-you-have-beautiful-blue-eyes-so-there-let-me-go,” I said with the speed of an auctioneer.

He laughed and pressed his lips to my fingertips before letting go of my hand.

“You are so easy,” he said. Then at my offended look, hurriedly added, “T
o
teas
e
.”

I gave him a look out of the corner of my eye meant to say, “It’s a good thing you’re so cute and funny or I’d bust you one.” When he laughed, though, I had no idea if that’s what he got from it.

If we were alone, you’d be in so much trouble no
w
, said Lovesick.

I think I’m already in trouble.

CHAPTER 6

AFTER dinner that night (six big fish — headless — filleted and fried in butter and flour, eve
n
bette
r
than a restaurant), Emily and I settled back against some logs not far from the fire where Matt had cooked our meal.

“So,” Emily said, “when you gonna go flirt with him some more?”

Warning! Danger, Will Robinson!

Could I slip away unnoticed and hide from my well-meaning friend? I remembered the bear we’d seen on our way here. Maybe wandering the woods at night would be worse than what I was going through right now, but not by much. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want to get to know Matt better. It was that I did. And that scared me.

“I wasn’t flirting,” I burst out in a stage whisper. “I was fishing.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.” Emily patted my hand. “It’s a normal healthy way to get to know someone, see if there’s any chemistry.”

“Then you flirt with him.”

Em grinned and looked across the firepit to where Matt was talking with Patty and Janice. “I’m not the one he’s flirting back with.”

I turned to her in surprise. Matt was flirting wit
h
m
e
? Well, huh, I guess our playful banter could’ve been classified as…wow, okay. But I wasn’t comfortable with the idea yet, so I said, “I was just fishing.”

Emily snorted. “You were not.”

“I was too!” Why does everyone keep saying that?

“Oh? How many fish did you catch?” Emily folded her arms and looked at me.

I tried to think up a lie that wouldn’t make me laugh. “I caught…one…a great big one…but I had to throw him back…because…it was out of season.”

Emily started to giggle. “I don’t think you threw him back. You just want me to believe you did.”

I turned back toward the fire to try and hide my grin. “No, I did throw him back. I don’t much care for fresh fish and I don’t need a trophy to take home.”

“So don’t worry about a trophy. Just enjoy the sport.”

I looked at Emily in surprise. “I’m not really the sporting type.”

She leaned closer. “It’s a vacation. It’s not like the fish will follow you home.”

I hate to admit it, but Em’s arguments weren’t easy to dismiss. “I don’t know, Em,” I said. Though watching Matt, I was sorely tempted to follow her advice. “I’m not sure the cure isn’t potentially worse than the disease.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No way. No non-psycho is worse than Dirk. And you know someone who knows his family, so he’s probably not a psycho. The chances that you’ll wind up on the front page are almost nil.”

Naive girl found dead this summer in the Michigan wilderness. Known to have bad luck with men, she nonetheless made sport of flirting with the fishing guide. Her last known words were, “He’s safe. I know someone who knew his mother.”

I could see Em warming to her subject — matchmaking or flirting, I wasn’t sure which. I wanted to believe she was right. That flirting could be a safe, fun way to get a little fresh air into my weary soul. But it could also be stupid. After all, I came up here to get away from Heartbreak, not to see if I could go double or nothing.

“Trust me,” she said. “When have I led you astray?”

“I don’t know,” I wavered. “I haven’t flirted like that in a really long time. Over four years.” The idea was beginning to sound like fun but, when it comes to men, I have a history of making poor decisions. All of which seemed like good ideas at the time.

Em twisted herself to face me and grabbed my hands. “You were doing it today. Just up the amperage. Turn on your charms.”

“What do you mean? Kiss him? I can’t kiss him. I barely know him!” I could feel panic coursing through my veins. Why do I listen to her?

Emily laughed. “No, you don’t kiss him. You — well, I mean, if you want to kiss him, it’s dark and there’s a fire and moonlight, so it’d be perfect—”

“Em!” I whispered fiercely. I was getting cold feet already. I wasn’t sure I could do this with finesse. And without finesse, it would just make me feel worse about myself than I already did.

“Flirting can be the way to recovery. I saw you flirting with him earlier — and enjoying it immensely, I might add.” Em elbowed me lightly in the ribs.

I dropped my eyes. I couldn’t argue with that. But I didn’t mean it to be noticeable. The tiniest of smiles began to creep out. I
t
wa
s
a lot of fun. And it didn’t seem to be hurting anyone. Unless—

“What if he has a girlfriend?” I asked, rearranging myself against the log so we faced each other.

“He doesn’t. Remember what he said this morning? He was glad he didn’t have a girlfriend to keep him up talking all night? It’s just harmless flirting, Syd. It’s a fun self-esteem builder, that’s all.”

I snorted, and cocked my head at her. “And if it backfires, are you going to pick up the pieces?”

“Yes, but it won’t.” She leaned closer and grinned. “Trust me.”

Emily and I had our heads together, whispering and giggling, occasionally sneaking a peek at Matt. A moment later, she tapped her finger on my arm and grinned.

Matt turned toward us and caught us watching him. He looked over his shoulder, then back at us, then over the other shoulder before looking at us again. Of course we laughed. Exactly what he wanted, I could tell. He grinned.

Okay, that was cute.

He excused himself and wandered around the fire to where we sat.

Okay, that was scary.

“Hi,” said Emily. I looked at her and giggled softly. In one word she had managed to say, “Hello tall, dark, and handsome stranger. Come talk to us, your adoring fans.”

“Hi there, fisher ladies,” he said. He nodded and smiled at Em, then looked at me in my jeans and sweatshirt. He hunkered down beside me. “Warm enough?”

I grinned saucily at him. (Or at least tried. I’m not sure what a “saucy” grin looks like, but it sounds sexy in a cuter way than pure sexy — which isn’t me.) “For now,” I said.

Oh my gosh, I did it! Even I recognized that as flirting.

“Let me know if you get cold,” he said, never taking his eyes off me. “I’ll give you the shirt off my back — ’cause I’m that kind of guy.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Very Good Samaritan of you, kind sir. But how many shirts can you give away? Because you’ve already given me two.”

He laughed. It made me feel like maybe I was cute and funny. I remembered his T-shirt from this morning. “So, what does ‘Runs With Scissors’ mean?”

“It’s my Indian name.”

I paused for an instant, then laughed. No
,
h
e
was the cute and funny one.

The three of us chatted and laughed and ate s’mores. I could tell that Matt noticed me flirting. And it looked like he was enjoying it. Em was right — I was feeling much better.

After a while, Emily got to her feet. “I think I’m going to hit the hay so I can get up early and catch some fish before we go home tomorrow.” She yawned a very ladylike (i.e., fake) yawn. “G’night, you two.”

I looked around, suddenly noticing that the three of us were the only ones left around the fire. “Oh! Well—”

“Hey,” Em said quickly, “would you mind giving me five minutes of privacy? I need to write a letter.”

I looked at her funny. A letter?

“Oh, what am I saying?” She laughed down at Matt and me, still sitting against the log. “It’ll take me more than five minutes to write a letter. Would you mind giving me a half hour?”

I chickened out. Couldn’t do it. “I promise not to look,” I said, getting up and dusting myself off.

Emily didn’t give up easily. “I don’t want to keep you up with the light on and all.”

“Don’t worry. I can sleep through anything.” A big lie, and she knew it. “Thanks for the s’mores, Matt. See you in the morning.”

Before she could say anything more than “good night,” I grabbed her hand and hightailed it for the safety of our room.

Fun self-esteem building would have to wait for another day.

THE next morning, I slept in while the others took one last shot at fresh fish before we left for home. Having reconciled myself to the fact that it’s nature I enjoy, not fishing, I sat on the porch swing most of the morning, thinking. I’d wanted an escape from my life so I could figure things out. I got the escape, but still had no idea what to do when I returned home.

I thought about Matt. Did the fact that I was so attracted to him mean my heart was healing? Or did it mean I was a complete basket case, a loser who couldn’t go a day without a man in her life? I couldn’t figure it out. I’d lost all perspective on my life.

I leaned my head back against the porch swing and rocked. The birds sang choruses all around me. I heard a squirrel chatter. Occasionally the leaves rustled in the breeze. I took a deep breath and let it out.

Maybe now was the time to simpl
y
decid
e
to feel better. The words of my junior high gym teacher echoed in my head: “Fake it till you make it.” Could I do that? Could I hold onto this peace that I felt right now?

Surprised, I opened my eyes and stopped rocking for a moment. Hey,
I
di
d
feel at peace. It’s been so long, I didn’t even recognize it at first. A lazy grin spread over my face as I closed my eyes and started rocking again.

After a while, I went inside and grabbed a banana and a bag of Reese’s Pieces (nutritious, I know) and headed off into the surrounding woods. I wanted to savor the peace and quiet for as long as possible. When we returned to the city tonight, my life would be there waiting for me. Maybe I could come back with a new attitude and that would make the difference.

At least I won’t have to wonder about Matt. I have absolutely no interest in trying to see someone who lives so far away. Maybe the flirting this weekend really was a sign that I’m getting over my Heartbreak.

I stuffed my banana peel into the candy bag and put it in my pocket. The trees, the ferns, the birds, the woods — it all calmed me. (I know, calming ferns, weird. But I love ferns. They’re like living lace.) I smiled and sighed. It was a fragile peace, but I thought I could hang onto it.

Maybe when I got home I’d keep my eyes open for a guy with some of Matt’s characteristics. Funny, good-natured, part Tom Sawyer, part Hugh Jackman. Surely someone like that lives in Traverse City.

Maybe by the time you find hi
m
, said a Voice
,
you’ll be ready to do something about it.

Yeah, that’s a good plan. Take my time. Keep my eyes open. Relax and enjoy the good life I have. Then when I meet someone, I won’t have any baggage to deal with.

I made my way back to the lodge, arriving as the others were packing up their fishing gear. Matt stood by the porch, collecting the fishing poles. He smiled as I approached. Yeah, I’d like to meet a man with such a kind smile.

“Have a nice morning?”

I closed my eyes dreamily. “Wonderful,” I said. “I sat on the swing, then explored the woods. Eavesdropped on about a hundred conversations between the birds.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I just wish I could stay longer and wander around some more.”

“I wish you could, too.” His smile warmed. He stopped working on the fishing poles and leaned forward. “You know, I—”

Before Matt could finish, Mikki brought him her pole and regaled me with stories of “the ones that got away.” As much as I was thrilled no one caught anything this morning — I hated to think about being in an enclosed space with several dead bodies for seven hours — I wanted to know what Matt was going to say. But he’d gone to put the fishing tackle away.

When everyone was packed up, we hauled our stuff to the van. Patty loaded everything in, often interrupted by Ted or Matt who had a better idea on how to make it all fit. The three of them were funny together, arguing and muttering like people who’ve known and loved each other for a long time. Half way through, it became obvious they were putting on a show for our amusement.