Eagles. I have fish to catch.”
“Can I watch?”
She eyed him cautiously. “Are you capable of keeping your hands to yourself?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, and then proceeded to kiss her one more time.
“Hey,” Sonora said. “I thought you said—”
“You asked me if I was capable of keeping my hands to myself. I told you the truth. I am capable. But I didn’t promise I would.”
Sonora cast the line in the water, then propped the pole against a rock. Without saying a word, she turned around, grabbed Adam by the collar with both hands and yanked him forward.
They’d kissed before, but never like this. Sonora set him on fire. He’d thought about dying plenty of times, but never thought it would be like this.
“Sonora… God…let me—”
She turned him loose as fast as she grabbed him.
“I’ve got a bite,” she said calmly, bent down and picked up her fishing pole and landed a fish.
Adam was still shaking when she took it off the hook and put it on the stringer.
“You’ll stay for lunch, won’t you?”
Adam took a deep breath and jammed his hands through his hair, but wouldn’t answer.
That didn’t stop the conversation.
“Good,” Sonora said. “How hungry are you…one fish or two?”
“Starving,” he muttered, and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
When he sat down and pulled off his boots, then got up and started unbuckling his belt, Sonora’s lips went slack.
“Um…uh…”
He glared. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked man before?”
Sonora’s mouth went dry. She’d seen naked men before, but never one so remarkably built or so remarkably aroused.
She glared back. “I’ve seen plenty,” she snapped.
“So what’s your problem, then?” he asked.
She kept trying to look at his face, or at the trees under which they were standing—at anything and everything but the obvious.
“Uh…you’re…you’re…”
“I’m what?” he said, and then turned his back on her and dived into the water.
She watched the perfect dive with undue appreciation, both for his form and his perfect backside.
He came up with a whoosh, sending a shower of water into the air. The frustration and anger were gone from his face. To add insult to injury, he was treading water and grinning.
Sonora wanted to scream.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I was in the water when you answered. You were saying I was…?”
Sonora hadn’t grown up alone and tough for nothing.
“I was about to say…you’re scaring the fish.”
Chapter 9
Sonora made Adam clean the fish. He considered it only fair since he’d come to the meal uninvited. Franklin woke up just as Sonora was taking the last fish from the skillet and followed the scent of his favorite food into the kitchen.
His delight in knowing there was fish for lunch doubled when he realized they would be having company.
“Adam! It’s good to see you. I was beginning to think you’d found something better to do than visit a sick old man.”
“You’re not old,” Adam said.
“Maybe not, but today I am not so sick that I can’t eat some of this wonderful fish. Daughter! It seems you have been busy while I was sleeping.”
“You have no idea,” Sonora muttered, then made herself smile.
She was still shocked at herself for letting Adam push all her buttons. Her lack of self-control was so out of character she felt off-center with the world.
Franklin paused. There was something different in her tone of voice, and now that he was looking, there was something different about her appearance, as well. This morning her hair had been up. Now it was down, and her face was flushed. The flush on her cheeks could have been from the heat of the kitchen, but the fact that she was studiously avoiding looking at Adam seemed more likely. And there was no explanation forthcoming as to why Adam’s hair was damp.
“Has something been going on in my house that I should know about?” he asked.
Sonora looked guilty.
Adam looked up. “Of course not, Franklin. I would never disrespect you or your home in that manner. The pond, however, is neutral territory, right?”
Sonora gasped, and then glared at Adam all over again.
Adam’s eyes were twinkling, but his expression was completely calm as he awaited Franklin’s answer.
Franklin grinned. “Yes. You are right. The pond is neutral territory.”
“Oh… I’m so laughing my head off,” Sonora muttered, then pointed at Adam. “You. Put some ice in the glasses, please.”
Adam knew better than to say anything else. He was still reeling from the kiss she’d laid on him down at the pond.
“Hey, Franklin… I was looking at that new piece you’re working on. It’s really something. What kind of bird is that…a wren?”
“Yes. I thought it was going to be a barn swallow, but when I began carving, the wren is what began to emerge.”
Sonora was listening to their conversation with interest as she put a small bowl of quartered lemons on the table, along with a bottle of tartar sauce.
“You mean, you don’t know what the sculpture is going to be before you begin?” Sonora asked.
Franklin smiled. It was something people often asked him once they found out his process.
“How can I know until I remove the excess wood?”
Sonora’s eyes widened with amazement. “The excess?”
“Yes, you know—the part that doesn’t belong.”
“That’s just amazing,” she said.
Franklin shrugged. “It’s not so much. It’s just the way it works.”
A
