“Want me to take your picture?”

He chuckled. “I’m good. I have at least a million already.”

I tilted my head and wrinkled my nose. “Yeah, but not with me.”

Something quite like a genuine smile bent his lips. “True.” He stood next to me, one arm around my waist, pulling me close while he stretched out his other arm with the phone and took a selfie with me.

That was the one I wanted him to send me. It wasn’t just the mountains; it was him, the motorcycle, the feeling (although foolish) that I was a woman enjoying the perfect Sunday afternoon with a man. The naked fisherman.

On our way back home, we stopped in Idaho Springs, an old mining town, for pizza at Beau Jo’s. Not just any pizza. Nope. Thick wheat crust with loads of toppings. And we dipped our crust ends in honey. It blew my mind.

He blew my mind.

Fisher told me about his family. Two older sisters and a younger brother. His love for building things that started at an early age. And his all-star jock status in high school. All State everything. His coaches thought he would go on to college to do something—basketball, baseball, track. But he didn’t love any of it as much as he loved his tool belt and the smell of fresh-cut lumber.

“Are you awake?” he asked, killing the engine inside his garage.

“Sort of,” I mumbled as I almost fell on my butt getting off the back of his bike.

He grabbed my arm to steady me. “I got Rory’s daughter back in one piece. Phew.” He removed my helmet and unzipped my jacket.

“But she’ll never know because we aren’t telling her.”

“She won’t hear anything from me.” He winked, removing his jacket.

“Thanks. I realize you probably weren’t planning on a tagalong today.”

“You can tag along anytime.”

“Well …” I nodded toward the garage door. “I’d better get to bed. My boss isn’t a morning person or a Monday person, so I have to bring enough awesomeness for the both of us.”

He smirked. “I’m sure your boss’s reputation is unfair and exaggerated.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But just in case … I’m off to bed. Goodnight.” I headed toward the open garage door.

“Reese, you can go through the house. It’s dark. No need to walk around the side of the house.”

“You sure?”

Fisher held open the door to his house for me. “I’m sure. Just don’t steal anything on your way through my kitchen.”

With an eye roll, I stepped into his house and removed my shoes, carrying them through his kitchen. “Are you going to lock your basement door behind me?”

“Why? Are you going to rob me?”

“No.” I giggled, opening the basement door.