Lyla woke up to the aromatic smell of coffee. It wafted through her room and practically begged her to get up and have a cup. She was weak, and quickly obeyed. Her drowsiness clouded her memory and she was initially confused about where she was, until she reached the kitchen where the aroma originated, and where Tim sat reading a chapter book with his hot coffee wafting in front of him on the table.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Tim Riggins?"

He didn't look up from his book, but did stretch his lips into a wide smile. "Morning, Garrity. Or should I say afternoon? Ain't it past noon?"

The clock on the coffee maker confirmed it was still morning, but it was just past nine, a good three hours later than she would normally have woken up.

"Har, har." She mockingly laughed as she poured her coffee. "I did sleep pretty late though."

"Told ya you needed to get out of your dad's apartment," he commented, still reading.

Lyla walked over and had a seat beside Tim. "That bed is pretty comfortable. I'll admit it."

A sly smile stretched across his face. "It's my old bed."

That bed has had quite a history. Lyla attempted to surpress a thousand memories with another sip of her morning coffee.

"Talk to the ball and chain?" Tim drawled, still not looking up from his book.

"Yes." She hadn't.

"All's well in the big city?"

"He's fine." Lyla hadn't even looked at her phone. It was still on her nightstand. She suddenly felt a strong urge to go get it. Becky would appreciate an update. "Sorry I fell asleep early last night. I wanted to catch up a bit after I got my bags but I just got worn out."

Finally he looked at her with his silly looking reading glasses. They weren't silly, exactly, it just looked silly on him. Tim Riggins. Slacker extraordinaire. Now with reading glasses. His smile was warm and sweet, the kind he used to give Lyla for free in high school.

Tim is still in there, Becky.

"I'm just glad you're here, Garrity."

They smiled and went back to their activities. Lyla took another sip of her coffee. It was rich and smooth and drinking it made her feel quite at home.

"Since when do you read?" She teased, flicking a finger at the cover of the novel.

A playful glare. "Since I ran the library in prison."

Tim went back to reading. Lyla raised an eyebrow. "You really ran the library?"

"Yep," Tim stretched out. "Wasn't 'sposed to. Guy who was took one look at me and decided the new meat wasn't much of a threat. Decided to give me all of his chores. Practically ran the operation."

The side of Lyla's mouth stretched into a smirk. "What made you give books a second chance?"

"Not much else to do in prison," he answered, still reading. "I know. A shocking revelation."

Her smirk bloomed into a smile. "What book was it?"

Tim turned to look at her. "Huh?"

"Which book turned you into a reader?" She couldn't help herself. She was so proud of this newly acquired habit. Who knew prison would actually do Tim some good?

Tim buried his face back into his book. Lyla took note of his embarrassment and reveled in it. He groaned ever so softly, but Lyla heard it. Her smile turned into a teeth-baring grin.

"You're just lovin' this, aren't you?"

Lyla nodded emphatically with a grin that could make Tim's knees weak.

He audibly groaned now. The book, still parted in his hands, fell to the table. "It wasn't nothing special." He started. Lyla batted her eyelashes purposefully; a signal to continue. "I was slacking books, the ones the 'mates were returning and I just noticed a book 'bout Texas. That's all."

Lyla couldn't help but pry. She was enjoying this all too much. "What's the title?"

Tim glowered at her – a bit less playful this time. "I don't wanna say."

Her interest was piqued. "I need to know what book it was that turned you around on reading. This is huge!" Her grin was plastered on.

Tim's face had reddened. It went back to hiding in his book. "I… don't remember."

Lyla's jaw dropped. "I don't believe you! Tell me!"

The book dropped back to the table. His hands covered his face, and slowly fell away. His eyes were closed when he finally admitted, "Terms of Endearment."

If her jaw was slacked before, it fell even further to the ground. Her eyes widened with shock and glee. "No way!"

Tim nodded with humility.

It took Lyla a moment to recover from the shock. She wasn't going to ruin this moment by embarrassing him further. Once she had regained her composure, she said, "I like that you're reading."

His eyes met hers and for a second, perhaps a minute, they locked on to each other. These little moments were when they were most honest with each other. The world fell away and without words they communicated understanding and compassion. It was so easy for them.

Without breaking the connection, Tim asked, "You doin' anything today?"

Her lovely smirk returned. "I don't have anything planned."

Tim matched her grin. "Wanna go fishin' with me today?"

Lyla shot up an eyebrow. "Where? There's no bodies of water around for miles."

A knowing smirk arose on Tim's face. "There's a lake on my property. Filled with fish."

"Ok," she answered, overjoyed at whatever the day might bring her.

Within an hour, they were fed, properly dressed, and on their way. A minute after they closed the back door, Lyla's phone, still left forgotten on the nightstand, chimed for attention.

Tim engaged Lyla in the story of the property. How he found it, how Billy helped with the payments while he was incarcerated, how they built the house together. Lyla couldn't help but admire the view. It surrounded her with a warmth she had been missing for a very long time. Perhaps Lyla was looking for home in all the wrong places. Maybe Tim was right all along. Texas Forever, he once chanted with such pride. She felt at peace being here with Tim. She felt God within the Texan horizon.

"Tyra loved this lake," he said upon approaching their destination. Tim pointed to the lake up ahead. "She loved it so much she named it Collette Lake. I built that boathouse out yonder for her. She'd come here when she was stressed and what not. She spent a lot of time out here just before she left."

Lyla didn't know what to say. She was really good at forgetting about Tyra's presence within the property, that is, until Tim would bring it up again. It didn't shock Lyla to know that Tim and Tyra got back together, but it left a bad taste in her mouth, like bile. Actually, she was shocked Tyra even left. It's no secret that Tyra held a candle for Tim in her heart and it only grew stronger with time. Lyla didn't like to think about any of it. There was no love lost between Tyra and herself. She held her tongue.

"So what do ya think? You like it?"

Despite the fact that it has Tyra written all over it, Lyla thought the lake looked idyllic. Its waters were a dark clean blue and stretched out farther than Lyla could see. The boathouse sat not too far away and it was more of a cabin than a boathouse. It was build with the same dark wood as Tim's house, only it was much smaller in size. It faced the lake with a similar porch as Tim's and overlooked the lake and the dock which a red boat was tied to. A small island in the middle of the lake was home to at least two flocks of ducks and a hawk who was swooping in and out of the trees.

"I love it," she said in awe. "It's absolutely beautiful."

Lyla caught the grin on Tim's face as they approached the boathouse. "I had a feelin' you'd like it."

"Did Tyra name the island too?" She teased. It came out sharper than she intended.

His smile waned a bit. "No, actually she didn't."

"Then I'll name it Garrity Island." She said, nudging Tim in the side with her elbow.

"Alright then." He said, accepting the proposal. "Our fishing stuff's in the boathouse. I'll get it and then we'll hop onto Riggins Boat and get to business," he mocked.

He disappeared inside the boathouse with a grin and Lyla couldn't help but love being out here. It was so rural. So comforting. She could see why Tyra spent so much time out here. She wondered what Kevin was doing back in Austin. Working, undoubtedly. It's all he ever does. What would Kevin think of this place? His ring felt so heavy on her finger.

"Alright, you want the red or the blue fishin' pole?" Tim asked as he came out of the boathouse.

"Red," she answered and grabbed it from his hands.

Tim eyed the way she handled the pole. "You know what you're doin'?"

"Yeah," she said as she twisted the reel carelessly. "I've done this before."

Doubtful, Tim set down his rod and approached her. "Here," he said while walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her until his hands enveloped hers. "You want your hand here," he said, moving her left hand down to the handle and manipulating her fingers into the correct position. "Use your right hand to adjust the reel, otherwise hold it here," Tim instructed, moving her right hand to the handle just above her left hand. "When you're castin' out, quickly fling the rod above your head, and fling the hook as far as you can in front of ya." with his hands on top of hers, he showed her the correct gestures to make.

Tim's face was right next to hers, over her left shoulder. The closeness was familiar and comfortable, but forbidden and exhilarating. She shouldn't have liked it as much as she liked it. She shouldn't have liked the feel of his arms enveloping her. She shouldn't have enjoyed his hands on her hands. All of it was wrong. Lyla didn't stop it. She was hyper aware of every place he touched.

"Alright. Let's do this," Tim smiled, and gestured for her to approach the dock first. They walked up the dock to the red boat and Lyla hesitated once she reached it. "Here," Tim said, and jumped into the boat first, setting down his rod and tackle box. He reached up, grabbed Lyla's waist, and lifted her down into the boat safely. She could feel his strength. Her waist was on fire. They were so close. Her heart was beating so fast.

Lyla calmed down and sat down on her side of the boat with her fishing rod. She watched as he untied the boat from the dock. As he did so, a patch of skin revealed itself from where his shirt lifted just a pinch too high for only a moment. Lyla noticed it. Tim sat back down on a plank in the boat and began to row away from the dock towards the island. They startled several ducks by doing so, and they flew up and around to the other side of the island. Silently they rowed further into the deep middle of the lake, near the island. Lyla watched Tim row. His muscles in his arms revealed themselves as he did so. She secretly wished Tim's plaid flannel shirt was rolled up higher on his arms so she could see his biceps work as he rowed. It didn't really matter though, as Lyla knew what he looked like without his shirt on. It was easy to imagine his strong muscles at work.

"This is it," Tim said with a final heave. "This is my spot. I've caught a lot of carp here. There's some bass too."

"Don't I need bait or something?" Lyla asked. "I mean, I think that's how it's done right?" Tim looked at her with a light in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. She sighed. "I obviously don't know what I'm doing."

A chuckle escaped his lips. "I know," he couldn't suppress the smile on his face. "Don't stress. Fishing's about relaxin'. I gotcha covered."

Lyla tried to release any nerves within her, but the truth of the matter is, with no experience fishing, and with Tim being so close to her on this boat, relaxing wasn't going to come naturally. She was relieved to see him place a worm onto the hook for her.

"Remember what I taught you," he said. "Raise the pole over your shoulder, and fling the hook out as far as you can."

She did as he instructed and yelped as she flung the line out into the water. It landed not as far as she was hoping for, but Tim's praise told her she didn't do badly. "Now what?" she asked.

Tim baited his hook and flung it out into the lake further than Lyla's went. "We wait."

The two of them watched each other fondly and giggled like school children. She saw Tim twist the line back into the reel. "What are you doing?"

"We gotta lure the fish somehow. Make it look like the worm's alive. The fish love the chase."

Lyla awkwardly grabbed her rod again. She began twisting the line back into the reel. "Not so fast," Tim instructed, and she slowed down. It wasn't long before the line had reached back up to the pole, empty.

"I didn't catch anything," she lamented.

"Throw it back out again! This is what fishin's about. It's repetitive. It's calming."

"It's boring," Lyla teased.

Tim shrugged. "To some people, it is."

She flung her line back out into the lake. This was nice. She was out in the middle of a beautiful lake. She could see some fish swimming around the boat. The birds swimming around the tiny island were having a grand time. Up in the sky were two hawks flying around, and Lyla was awed by their large wingspan. There were swifts flying all around the water, dipping to take gulps of water before flying back up. Lyla could read out here all day long. She supposes Tim does from time to time.

"I lied. It's not boring. I'm having a good time, actually."

"Nice, huh? Relaxing?"

"Yeah. I could do this all the time."

Their eyes locked again. It was like they were saying, 'you could, you know. You could do this whenever you wanted.' Lyla got lost in them. Somehow they were closer than they were a moment before. Their eyes pulled them closer together, like magnets. Lyla would have submitted to the moment, but for a pull on her fishing rod.

"What the?"

"Grab it!" Tim yelled. "Start reeling!"

Her nerves were wired. She grabbed the pole and fumbled until she got ahold of it again. "What do I do!?"

Tim maneuvered the boat until he was sitting behind her. "Reel! You caught something!"

Lyla squealed as she tried to reel the fish back in, but the fish was strong. Tim's strong arms swathed around her once again and grabbed ahold of her fishing rod. "I got you! I got you!" He wrapped his hand around hers and using his strength to reel the fish in. Within a minute, the line pulled out of the lake, and there, struggling on the hook, was a carp.

The two cheered as they pulled the fish into the boat. "I did it!" Lyla shrieked as Tim took hold of the fish and removed it from the hook.

"Not bad, Garrity! Not bad at all!"

The two laughed with the last of their adrenaline.

"So, what do you wanna do? Throw him back in, or shall we take him back to the house and have him for dinner?"

"Aww," Lyla moaned. She didn't think about this part of the fishing. "Don't kill him!"

"Trust me, Garrity, I cook a mean carp. He'll taste delicious."

Lyla frowned. "No. Throw him back."

"Have you never ate fish before? It's good for ya you know."

"I've had fish!"

"Where do you think it came from? Did it just poof into the supermarket?" He teased, the fish struggling for life in his hands.

"Tim!" She moaned playfully, pouting. "He's suffering!"

He threw the carp back into the water, and it fell in with a splash. A moment of silence passed before Tim said, "Wanna do it again?"

A sly smirk crawled onto Lyla's face. She grabbed her pole and held the hook out to him. "Will you bait it for me?"

Tim and Lyla sat out on the lake until the sky shed its pale blue skin in favor of a richer color of Texan orange, which deepened into a gorgeous Texan red. They watched the sunset sitting on the dock with a blue cooler that contained a bass that Tim caught on ice, which he insisted on cooking for dinner. It was the biggest fish either of them caught. Lyla caught two more carp, while Tim caught three along with another three bass. Sitting there, Lyla couldn't help but feel the most relaxed she'd been in years, despite her ritualistic trips to the spas in Austin. She wished everyday could be as fun and as easy. Being with Tim was easy. Was it ever this easy with Kevin? Was it supposed to be?

They made it back up to the house with the bass and Tim started cooking as Lyla took a quick shower as she was feeling a bit grimy. Just after she got out, she noticed the abandoned phone on the nightstand. It came to life by itself, announcing the arrival of a text message. Still wrapped in towels, Lyla walked over to check her phone for the first time that day. Whereas the other day the phone was mum, today, the phone was littered with missed calls and texts, largely from Kevin and Becky.

Kevin called three times this morning while she was still sleeping.

Why aren't you answering your phone? Kevin asked around nine.

How are things going with Tim? Becky asked at nine-thirty.

Kevin called another three times at lunch.

I miss you babe, He texted again.

Are you mad at me? Kevin worried.

I haven't heard from you, so I assume things with Tim are going well? Becky texted.

Or you're with your father. She sent directly afterwards.

You have seen your father again, right? He knows your still in town? Her third text in a row.

Please call me ASAP. I'm worried. Kevin texted again an hour ago.

You haven't gone this long without calling me. Are things going ok? His last text, sent a minute ago.

I should call him, Lyla told herself. She couldn't make herself do it.

A smell wafted under her nose. The fish, she suspected. It smelled of herbs and spices and grilled meat. Her mouth watered just smelling it. When did Kevin ever cook her a meal? Lyla tried to think back. He's hardly ever home in time for dinner anyway. Kevin slaves away at work at all hours of the day. He's only really home to seduce her, sleep, and change clothes for another day of hard work. On one of the rare days he isn't working from dawn till dusk, Kevin takes her to nice restaurants for dinner.

Still. She ought to call him. It was after seven o'clock anyway. He probably wouldn't even answer anyway because he'd be in the middle of whatever case he's working on.

The phone rang twice before a voice answered with a very anxious 'hello.'

"Kevin?" Lyla asked dubiously.

"Lyla! You called!" Kevin sounded relieved. "I was worried something had happened to you. I talked to your assistant, Molly, and she hadn't heard a word from you for two days! Is everything all right over there?"

A wave of calm over took her. Maybe all she needed was to hear Kevin's voice. He was so worried about her. Lyla could hear it in his voice. "Not really, actually." And so Lyla regaled the story of how her dad had fired her as his lawyer.

"You're joking!" Kevin exclaimed. "That is the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard. Who does that?"

"My dad, apparently. He always has an angle."

"Lyla, darling," Kevin cooed, "come home. I miss you terribly. I haven't been able to sleep in days. It's definitely affecting my work here. I've been working longer than usual because I keep messing everything up. Look at what you've done to me, sweetheart. I'm going to lose my case all because you're not here at my side. Come home and help me on this case. I need you."

She could not contain her smile. It shined out of her like the brightest star in the sky. Lyla wished he could see how loved he made her feel. "I miss you everyday," she said honestly.

"Come home," he begged. "I need you."

Lyla thought about it for a good moment. Hearing him on the phone made her realize just how much she actually missed him. She wasn't lying to Tim the day before. Kevin was good to her. She truly did love him. Their love was entirely different from her love for Tim.

Loving Kevin was steady and comfortable. It was like driving on cruise control. It felt like a warm embrace. So many friends have commented on how they already acted like a married couple. Lyla worried they would grow stale too soon.

Loving Tim was like wildfire. It only took one spark and her heart engulfed in flame. It was like speed racing. It felt like an adrenaline kick. It was easy and nostalgic and felt like being enveloped in a thick blanket of love and lust. But Lyla worried the wildfire would fan out as quickly as it ignited.

She wanted to come home to Kevin equally as much as she wanted to stay and revive Tim.

"I can't," she finally said. "My dad still claims to need me. He wants me to be there during his trial. I guess I owe it to him as he is my father, regardless of how many times he has abused that title."

Kevin sighed. "You're right, as usual. You should be with your father. I'm so sorry for all the grief he's caused you, and I hope the trial goes all right."

"I hope so too. I just don't know what 'all right' is."

"I'll miss you terribly. I love you, Lyla Garrity."

"I love you too, Kevin Mussman. Don't screw up your case. Break a leg."

"If I do break a leg, I'm suing you," he purred into the phone. The familiar banter brought a smile to her face. "I have to go. Good night, my love."

"Good night." She said, and with that they hung up.

The smell of the grilled fish became much stronger and it only made her salivate more.

Lyla knew she was in big trouble.