A Certain Kind of Hero Read Online Free PDF

managed to shift the tackle box and cooler to one arm so he could steady her with the other. “Deep down in my heart, and I think it’s got your name on it.”
    â€œWhat a line.” She laughed as she slipped her arm around his waist. “So corny it’s actually sweet,” she quipped, playfully bumping hips with him as they slip-slid toward the little fishing shack he’d said belonged to a friend of his.
    â€œMmm. Sweet corn makes a good side dish, don’t you think?”
    â€œWhat’s the main dish?”
    â€œYou are.”
    She looked up, feigning surprise.
    He dropped a quick kiss on her pouty mouth. “Come on, now, you should’ve seen that one coming.”
    â€œI did. I decided to accommodate you, since you’re the host.”
    â€œGuide,” he corrected. “The man who’s gonna show you the way, sweetheart.”
    â€œThe way to…?”
    â€œHeaven.” He gave a sly wink as he shoved a key into the padlock on the door. “Or supper. Take your pick.”
    She was tempted to tell him that she really wanted heaven. Might as well admit it right off the bat. Everything about him said sexy. The way he walked, the way he laughed, the way he wore his jeans, everything. The trouble was, Raina was wary of heights. She believed in working her way up, testing all the footholds along the way. Meanwhile, she wanted a third choice. She liked the word maybe. Maybe later, in a few weeks or months, after they’d shared lots of suppers and made commitments, maybe then …. Heaven sounded awfully good to her.
    With Gideon, nothing came easily, not even a simple supper. He did make ice fishing look simple, even with a spear, which required a larger hole than the icehouse would allow. So he dazzled her with his skill several yards away from the house, and then they took his catch inside. She was surprised to find that the little house actually had chairs and a card table inside. There was a small heater, and Gideon had brought a camp stove for cooking. Once he’d gotten the appliances going, he squatted next to a hole that had been drilled in the middle of the floor and began chipping away at the ice that had formed since the last time the icehouse had been used.
    â€œWhat’s that for?” Raina asked. “Don’t we have enough?”
    â€œNo appreciation for the sport,” he complained to the hole in the ice. “This is our excuse for being out here. Otherwise we look pretty stupid, sitting out here in the middle of a frozen lake.” He grinned up at her, his hands braced on his knees as he prepared to stand. “Officially, it’s your line that’s goingdown here. I’m giving you the chance to catch the big one, darlin’, so you can brag to your friends.”
    â€œA hook at the end of a line is my best chance,” she agreed. “Obviously I’ll never have your talent for spearing.”
    â€œIt takes practice. Either that or you have to be born to it.” He stood, ducking to avoid bumping his head on the low roof. His baiting smile loomed over her. “As you’ve probably heard, some of us just naturally come complete with the necessary equipment.”
    â€œYou might find this hard to believe,” she said, returning a coy smile, “but some of us are perfectly content to let you carry that particular burden around with you constantly.”
    He chuckled appreciatively as he rummaged through his tackle box, and she figured she was racking up points for her side. He handed her several pieces of tackle.
    â€œAh, yes.” She looked them over, ostensibly weighing them in her hands. “The hook, line and sinker are so much less cumbersome.”
    â€œMaybe.” Going about the business of setting a line, he sank into an ice-fisherman’s crouch. “But I’ll bet you’re gonna ask me to bait yours for you.”
    She returned the bits of tackle he’d