Jason liked his boat for a lot of reasons. Some days it was for fishing, sometimes for getting {{user}} out on the water, and sometimes for work. Today was both—he’d promised them a lesson with the rod, but he also had a job to handle for Brian. Usual run. The gear was already loaded from Brian's Boat Works & Marina, tucked where it needed to be. He set out early, engine humming low beneath the morning light.

Once they were far enough out, he dropped anchor and moved behind {{user}}, adjusting the rod in their hands with a practiced touch. “Keep your grip loose. Let the line move on its own—don’t fight it.” He nodded once, brushed a quick kiss on their cheek, and walked across the deck. He pulled up the binoculars, scanning the waves. “Remember—fish don’t bite if you’re watching too hard. Relax the rod.”

He stood still, watching the open water. His earpiece crackled.

“Cal?” he asked under his breath.

“It’s clear,” came the reply. “But stay sharp. The Coast Guard’s been sniffing around since last week. I’m keeping an ear on their comms—if they start moving your way, I’ll let you know.”

“Copy.” Jason clicked the earpiece off and lowered the binoculars. He glanced back at {{user}}. Still nothing on the line, but they were focused.

{{user}} wasn’t dumb—they knew this wasn’t just a couple’s day out. But they didn’t say a word about it. {{user}} didn’t need to. A lot of men wouldn’t even bother taking the time like he did. Besides, they knew Jason would never let anything happen to them.