She stuck her tongue out and tried to swim past him to the boat.
“I'm pretty sure both your arms went around me,” he said, snagging her around the waist with one of his own arms, “which, last I heard, was a hug.”
She kicked free and grabbed onto the flat deck of the boat, then turned to him with wide eyes. “You smiled!”
Daniel felt his features automatically snap to neutral.
“No, no, no! You smiled. Do it again!”
Hesitantly, Daniel let both sides of his mouth lift, and Crystal squealed.
“You have dimples!”
Daniel scowled, wiping at his cheeks with the back of one hand as though he could scrub the offending skin divots away.
Crystal swam back to him and poked at his cheeks. “They’re so cute!”
Daniel groaned. “If the words baby face come out of your mouth, you’re swimming home.”
“Are you embarrassed?” She poked him again and laughed as he swatted her hand away. “You are! Mr. Rich Boy with the party house and the party boat is embarrassed.”
“Do I need to hug you again so we can both be embarrassed?” It was a shot in the dark based on how fast she'd dropped her arms when she’d caught him looking at her earlier on the boat, but with her hat off, he could see the pink flush to her cheeks now. Ha!
Then again, with her soaking wet like that, he had to be more careful. At least she hadn’t worn a white shirt.
“Maybe I'll just beat you onto the boat and drive away first.”
“Good luck with that.” They both swam for the ladder... which did not stretch down into the water for them, as he hadn't planned on swimming, and thus hadn't lowered the ladder when they'd stopped. They'd have to hoist themselves up onto the deck, which was just above their heads.
Daniel looked at her. “I'll give you a boost if you promise not to drive off without me.”
She tossed her hat up onto the boat. “Deal.”
He cupped his hands for her to put her foot in, and was gentleman enough not to point out that the way she grabbed around his neck for balance before catching the edge of the deck was very close to a hug.
CRYSTAL’S CLOTHES DRIED fast enough in the morning sunlight, helped along by a striped towel Daniel had tossed her from one of the boat’s lockers. It was thick and plush like a fancy bath towel, not the coarse beach towels she kept on her dad’s old boat.
Crystal tossed the towel onto the lid of the built-in cooler storage where they’d put the fish they’d caught. “All right. Time to take some fish home to your chef.”
“Do I have to?”
She stared at him. “You don't want to eat your own fish, that you caught yourself?”
“When you put it that way, it’s almost tempting. But I don’t really eat fish.”
Crystal crossed her arms. “What's wrong with fish?”
Daniel glanced at her and saw her defensive posture. “Nothing. I just haven't been able to eat it since an unpleasant experience with a fish taco from a truck in San Diego.”
Crystal shook out her t-shirt, which was mostly dry now. It was lunchtime, and even talking about fish made her hungry. “There's nothing like fish so fresh you just caught it yourself a couple hours earlier.”
“I'll take your word for it.” He steered the boat back toward his massive home, which she could see rising in the distance.
“No, you won't. You're going to learn how to cook it, and you're going to eat it, and you’re going to like it.”
“Oh yeah?”
She walked closer to him and patted his shoulder. “Trust me.”
He looked up at her from where he sat at the boat’s controls, and a funny expression she couldn't read crossed his face. “Okay.”
A simple agreement, but for some reason it made her breath catch, so she just nodded and hurried away to the front of the boat.
When they reached the house, Crystal sent Daniel on ahead. He wanted a shower after his unplanned lake swim, and he was going to chase the fancy chef out of the kitchen so they could use it. Crystal, meanwhile, had decided her best chance at getting Daniel to eat the fish included taking care of gutting them while he wasn't around.
When she got up to the house, she found the kitchen waiting empty, and instead of twiddling her thumbs until Daniel finished showering, she began going through cupboards looking for oil, flour, salt, pepper, and a frying pan.
She heard Daniel walk in behind her, and said, “Do you have any lemon...” She broke off as she looked at him. He stood in the doorway almost hesitantly, his dark hair damp.
He wore her dad's shirt.
Crystal had to fight the urge to go wrap her arms around him, as she would have if it had still been her dad inside that shirt, getting ready to fry up some fish with her.
Trying to hide her sudden emotions, she put her hands on her hips. “I thought you didn't want to be caught wearing that shirt. I remember you were pretty horrified by it.”
Daniel shrugged, coming further into the kitchen. “You've already seen me in it, and there's no one else around. Besides, it seemed like the appropriate thing to wear for cooking fish.” His voice held a note of uncertainty, like he was hoping he'd done the right thing.
Crystal went back to arranging the supplies she'd gathered on the island counter in the middle of the room. “My dad was the best fish fryer in Eureka Springs. Maybe it will bring you luck.” Strange as it was seeing her dad's old shirt on someone else, it felt right. Her dad wouldn't have wanted it to sit in a drawer forever.
“In 1985 the Bassmaster Classic was held here in Arkansas. They change the location every year. Dad didn't compete, but he helped run the tournament, and he was always proud of that shirt.”
Daniel had come up beside her, and now he touched a hand to her shoulder. “Sounds like you had a great relationship.”
Crystal busied her hands with washing the fish in the sink. “Yeah, he never had a son, so he did the best with what he got. Taught me everything, including how to fry up the best fish you’ll ever taste.”
Daniel leaned back against the island in the center of the room, not following her to the sink. “I bet he's glad you were a daughter.” His voice turned teasing. “I know I am.”
What on earth did he mean by that? His voice held the same playful tone it had when he'd told her to hug him again earlier, but even the thought that he might be flirting—with her—it just didn't even make sense.
Crystal put on a no-nonsense face and turned to face him. “All right, Danny boy. Time to get your hands dirty.”
Crystal guided him through dumping flour, salt, pepper, and some lemon zest she’s found into a plastic bag. Carrying it to the sink, she added one of the fish, closed the top, and handed it back to Daniel. “Shake.”
Daniel looked down at the bag, looked up at her, then raised it above his head and spun himself in a slow circle, arms pumping and booty swinging. It wasn't even dancing, but could probably be classified as an attempt.
Crystal cracked up. “The fish! Shake the fish.”
He shot her a mock-wounded look. “You couldn't have been more specific the first time?”
She shook her head, still laughing, as he began making sure the fish was coated in flour.