It was Ben McKee. He’d traded his Stetson for a blue ball cap and his dress shirt and tie for a jersey faded from red to almost pink.
“Sunny,” Belle said, “the blond hunk in the sunglasses is my husband, Gabe Burrell, and I think you’ve met the other hunk, Ben McKee.”
“Good to meet you, Sunny,” Gabe said. “I see you’ve brought your own rod. It looks custom-made.”
“Whoo-ee,” Sam said. “We’d better watch out, guys. She looks like she takes fishing seriously.”
“Sunny,” Ben said, simply smiling and touching the brim of his cap. “Closest thing I have to a custom-made rig is a cane pole I cut myself.”
Sunny felt her face blaze, and she felt an irrational urge to slap the silly smile off his face. “It was a Christmas gift from my husband.”
There was a sudden silence. Her comment had gone over like a toad in a punch bowl.
“Sorry about the crack,” Ben said, and he held out his hand to help her aboard. “It’s a fine-looking rod. Was it made locally?”
Sunny accepted his hand, and everybody started talking at once as they climbed onto the large boat.
“The biggest fish of the morning,” Sam said, “is exempt from cleaning the catch or cooking lunch. Except for Skye. She’s not included in the contest.”
“Because you’re vegetarian?” Sunny asked her.
“No,” Belle said. “Because she’d probably catch a whale. Fish jump on her hook.”
“You fish,” Skye said, pulling a paperback from her tote, “and I read.”
“Why is it fish jump on your hook?” Ben asked.
She shrugged. “Just one of those odd things.”
“She’s enchanted,” Belle said. “Critters of every kind adore her. Who’s got the worms?”
“Ben brought the worms,” Sam shouted as he pulled the boat away from the pier.
They spent the rest of the morning fishing and laughing and talking. Sunny thoroughly enjoyed herself. She couldn’t remember when she’d laughed or talked so much. Sam and Belle were natural cutups, and they were in fine form. A shame she’d only met them now.
Shortly before they were due to go in, Sunny cast her line near where someone had left a milk jug marker. Immediately, a fish struck, a big one by the feel of it. She played it, praying she wouldn’t lose what she hoped was a whopping-size black bass. When she finally pulled in the fish, Ben helped her get the huge black bass in the boat.
Ben held it up and said, “Unless I miss my guess, this looks like the day’s winner. At least seven pounds.”
“Or eight,” Gabe said. “Only fitting, Sunny, that you’re our winner.”
“I agree,” Skye said.
Sam looked at Skye and frowned.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Skye said. “I had nothing to do with it. I’ve been reading about the latest treatment for mange.”
They headed back to the lake house, where the guys lit the grill and cleaned the fish while Belle and Skye retrieved containers of side dishes from the fridge. Sunny tried to help, but they wouldn’t hear of it.
“You won, fair and square,” Skye said.
“Do you really attract critters?” Sunny asked. Although the thought of such a thing seemed a little odd, who was she to say? She talked to a ghost.
“Umm. Sometimes. When you’re a veterinarian, it’s helpful to have a good rapport with animals.”
“Do you treat many fish?”
Skye chuckled. “Not many. In fact the only patient I can recall was a goldfish, and I wasn’t able to revive him. We had a funeral service instead.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. With songs and prayers and the whole shebang.” Skye picked up a plastic container. “I’m going to take these veggies out for the guys to put on the grill. Want to bring the paper plates?”
LUNCH HAD BEEN SO MUCH FUN that before she knew it, it was midafternoon. “Oh, wow,” Sunny said, jumping up. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I have to get back to town.”
“Big date?” Sam asked.
Sunny almost laughed when she saw Skye kick him under the table.
“No. I have to work tonight. Most Saturday nights are full. Let me help with this real quick.”
She picked up the empty bowls from the patio table, and Skye picked up the ice-cream maker. Belle got the rest of the remnants, and the women carried the things inside to the kitchen.
“Are you working tonight at the café?” Skye asked.
“No, I play with a band on most Saturday nights.”
“A band?” Skye said, her eyebrows going up. “Like with instruments?”
“Guitars, drums, keyboard. Real instruments. We’re the Copper Pistols.”
“What fun!” Skye said. “How did you come up with the name?”
“Seemed like a logical one for police officers—and everybody in the group is a working cop. They let me stay in the band after I left the force.”
“I forgot Belle told me you were in law enforcement,” Skye said as they walked back outside. “What did you do on the police force?”
Hearing Skye’s question, Gabe asked, “Sunny, were you really a cop?”
“Sure was. For several years. I was in uniform for a while, working traffic, and later I became a detective. Listen, everybody, today has been wonderful. I’m so glad you invited me, and Cass and I are looking forward to next Sunday. In the meantime, if you drop by Chili Witches, your next meal is on the house. Now, I’ve got to run.”
After goodbyes were said, Ben picked up her rod and reel and tackle box and followed Sunny to her car.
“You really did have a previous engagement,” he said.
“Did you think I didn’t?”
“I wasn’t sure if it was a brush-off.”
“It wasn’t.”
He stowed her things in the backseat, then turned to her. “How about tomorrow night?”
“For what?”
“For dinner. With me.”
That clawing panic was back. She tamped it down. “I’d like that.”
“Where do I pick you up?”
“I live over the café. There are stairs around back. I’m A.”
“A what?”
She smiled. “I’m apartment A. My sister is apartment B.”
SUNNY WORKED HERSELF INTO a lather trying to find something to wear. She didn’t have any dating clothes, especially when she didn’t know where they were going. Of course Austin was a super casual town, but she really didn’t have much besides jeans and church clothes.
Her wardrobe, like her apartment walls, was pretty plain and boring. Her walls were beige; her carpet was beige; even the countertops in the kitchen were beige. The only spot of color in the living room was her light blue couch with the