by Jill Shalvis
But he couldn’t catch it in time. The boat hit the pole and people went flying.
Jason shoved Lizzy the rest of the way across the street, then headed for the closest two splashes, managing to snag a woman in his right hand and a teenage boy in his left before they were washed downstream. “You okay?”
They both stood up, gasping and coughing but nodding. Jason waited until they had their feet beneath them to let go, then turned to the others.
The guy doing the yelling had caught the boat. Everyone else scrambled back into it, still griping at one another.
Jason helped them hold it steady while the woman and her son got back in. “Take it easy on the steering,” he said.
“We will, thank you.” The woman reached out to squeeze his hand. “You’re an angel.”
No. He wasn’t. Because he didn’t catch them all…And as he thought of Matt, and all the people he hadn’t managed to save over the years, he locked eyes with Lizzy, who was holding on to a sidewalk parking post, watching him as if he was a superhero.
Too bad he was nothing close.
Yeah, he had training in survival and rescue, but that was pretty much his only claim to fame. The rest of life—the emotions, the heart, the real stuff…ever since Matt’s death, it’d all eluded him.
Lizzy sent him a half smile, clearly worried, leaving him no doubt that she felt real affection for him. And when he touched and kissed her, that affection smoked and burst into a heat neither of them seemed able to resist. Just looking at her caught something deep in his chest.
Yeah. Most definitely feeling again, which was something he could think about later, after he’d figured out what the hell he was going to do with himself. Leave…or stay. Leaving was easy. But for the first time in recent memory he wanted to stay right where he was. Wanted to fit in right here….
He headed toward her and her expression warmed further, and hell if that didn’t do something to his insides, as well, telling him that leaving might not be the easy thing after all. “You okay?”
“Yes, I—Jason, watch out—”
That’s the last thing he heard before he was plowed over by something hard and unforgiving. Before he could process anything except maybe “fuck” and then “ouch,” he was underwater and down for the count.
8
“JASON.” HEART in her throat, Lizzy leaped into the water toward where the fishing boat had run him over. “Jason!”
The occupants of the boat were an elderly couple who had no more control of the vessel than they had of the weather. The woman was staring at the water where Jason had gone down. “Oh, dear!” she cried, slapping her hands to her cheeks.
Jason didn’t surface. Lizzy swam like hell toward where she’d seen him go down.
“So sorry, honey. I can’t seem to steer like I used to,” the man called out, dropping his oar and leaning over the edge to look for Jason.
Which was little to no help as his boat kept floating away. “Do you see him?” he called back. “Anywhere?”
“No, I—”
Just then, Jason surged out of the water, shook his head and whipped around to look at the boat that had just hit him. “What the hell?”
“They can’t steer like they used to,” Lizzy repeated, swallowing her half-hysterical laugh as she grabbed him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” His eyes narrowed on the boat as it continued its merry path down Third, mostly because neither of the occupants could stop it. “They’re going to kill someone.”
It hadn’t been him. That’s all Lizzy could think. It hadn’t been him. “You’re not okay.” Her heart took a hard hit at the gash on his forehead. She slipped her arms around him to hold him upright, even though he was as steady as a rock. It was her legs shaking like a bowl of Jell-O. “Come on, come here.”
They waded through the water to the far side of the street. On the corner was a park. Or had been. With the rain battering the virtual sea around them, they headed straight to what looked like a wooden lean-to.
It was really a playground set, half-covered by water. They sat on what turned out to be the middle level of the jungle gym, using it as a shelter to get out of the driving rain for a minute.
Lizzy looked around the three-foot-by-three-foot area. She’d give her last penny for a space heater and dry clothes.
“You must be cooked,” Jason said. “No sleep last night, literally running in this storm all day…”
“I’m okay.” She slipped her backpack off and opened it, pulling out her first-aid kit.
“I’m fine, Lizzy.”
“I know it.” She lifted the gauze she’d opened and scooted closer. He was sitting, leaning against the back wall, one leg straight out in front of him, the other bent, his elbow propped on it, hand holding his head, eyes closed.
“Let me see,” she said.
He dropped his hand and set his head back. She kneeled at his side and pressed the gauze to his cut, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
He sucked in a breath but said nothing.
“I don’t think you need stitches,” she murmured.
“No, I don’t.”
She looked at his face. His eyes were still closed and he looked pale to her. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and her heart sank. He was in great pain. “Open your eyes.”
He did, flashing the gray depths at her.
“Not concussed, I don’t think,” she decided, relieved to find his pupils normal and reactive. “But we should get an X-ray just in case.”
“Your nurse is showing.”
It wasn’t pain getting to him, she realized. He was pissed, and she stared at him as it sank in. “You’re upset that you got taken down by that boat.”
“Hell, yeah. They were older than dirt and couldn’t get out of their own way.”
She let out a low laugh. “Big enough ego?”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Ego?”
“Yes. You’re being such a…guy.”
“News flash. I am a guy.”
“Uh-huh. Look, I’m sure you’ve taken a hell of a lot worse hits than this. I’m figuring if you’re okay enough to be insulted, then you’re okay enough to continue. So if you’re done sulking, we should go.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Your bedside manner could use a little work.”
“Oh, sorry.” She let her smile slip out. “Would you like to be fawned over?”
“No. Hell, no.” But he paused, and then looked at her curiously. “What would the fawning consist of?”
“Funny. Let’s go, big guy. Oh, and it’s two-one now.”
“What?”
“Before we crossed the new river running down Third, we were even, one-one. I saved you, you saved me. But now we’re two-one, big guy. You owe me.”
He narrowed his eyes, then hissed out a breath at the movement.
“Careful. You’re still bleeding.”
“Yeah, and how exactly did you save me this second time?”
“It’s all in the gauze work.” She cupped the back of his head and pressed on the gauze with her other hand. “Are you going to go all alpha on me and get upset that I’m winning?”
“I didn’t realize we were keeping score.” He turned his head a fraction and she watched his eyes go from alert and sharp to…heated?
She looked down and realized their positions—him sitting, her kneeling—left him at eye level with, not to mention less than an inch from, her breasts.
He licked his lower lip.
And just like that, her nipples hardened.
Not that he could see her reaction. She wore his thick sweatshirt and a rain poncho, and was soaked to the skin, but it didn’t seem to matter.
Her breathing changed.
And so did his.
Trying to act normal when her body was so hyper aware of his that it was quivering, she pulled the gauze away from his cut, bent over the first-aid kit and located Steri-Strips, which she put on the gash. She worked in silence, and he didn’t s
ay a word until she’d finished and sat back on her heels to regard him.
He looked right back at her, then skimmed his hands up to her arms and tugged, and with a little gasp, she ended up in his lap. “Yeah, you’re winning,” he murmured silkily. “More than you bargained for.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. He slid one arm around her waist; the other skimmed up her spine to the back of her head, cupping it, bringing her mouth to within a beat of his.
Her heart kicked.
“Once upon a time,” he said quietly, “I didn’t know what to do with the things you made me feel.”
“You always knew what to do with all the other girls,” she managed.
“Yeah, but if you’ll remember, that was all show. I really was an idiot back then.”
“Yes.” Her lips quirked. “Though a really hot one.”
He snorted, and spread his fingers wide on her back. “You’re different now.”
“Meaning I can talk to you without tripping over my tongue?”
“Uh-huh. You have a confidence.” His fingers slid beneath the poncho and played with the hem on the sweatshirt, slipping beneath that, as well. “It’s sexy as hell, Lizzy.”
“It’s fake.”
He shook his head. “You’re comfortable in your own skin. I bet you’re a hell of a nurse.” He ran those warm, work-callused fingers over her bare back. “Do you love it?”
His fingers touching her? Yes. Yes, she did.
He was looking at her, waiting for her to speak, but it was tough to talk while he shifted his hand around to her front, those fingers now playing against the bare skin of her stomach. “Do I love my job?” she repeated shakily. “Yeah. I do. It grew on me.”
“Well, it fits you. When I went into the military, I had no idea if it would fit me.”
“It did. At least for the time you were there.”
“Yeah.” His other hand joined the fray, sliding up under the back of the sweatshirt, skimming her spine all the way to her nape and then back down, letting out a shaky breath as the tips of his fingers caught on her bra.
“It was a rough time for you back then,” she said, sounding shockingly normal for a woman who had a man’s hands up her top. “You’d just lost your father. You were tired of football.”
“You remember a lot about me.”
Yes. She remembered everything about him, but because that would probably put her into stalker status, she just lifted a shoulder.
“You cared about me.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
His hand urged her forward some more, until she lost her balance and had to set her hands on his chest. He closed his eyes as if to savor the touch as he continued to play beneath her clothing. “God, you smell good.”
“You can’t smell me. I’m half-drowned and wearing too many layers.”
“I’ll give you the too many layers.” He pressed his face to her hair. “But you do smell good.” Hands tightening, he shifted, adjusting her so that she was straddling him.
“Jase—”
“Shh. Just for a minute.” His mouth found the sweet spot beneath her ear, the one that was an instant turn-on switch for her, which she hadn’t realized until just now. When his tongue touched her skin, she gasped, and with a low breath of appreciation for her response, he pulled a small patch of skin into his mouth and sucked, turning her gasp into a helpless moan.
“God. God, you’re sweet.” He palmed her thighs, urging them open a little more, pulling her flush against him so that she could find him, hard beneath his layers.
Her head fell back, her eyes closed, and when he rocked up, she moaned. Then he fisted his hand in her hair, tugged her mouth to his and kissed her, hard and deep, like he was dying for her.
Which was only fair, because she was dying for him.
Yesterday she hadn’t thought about him in forever, and today she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She cupped his face to hold it to hers, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere. Instead he let out a low, rough moan of pleasure that went straight through her. It was heaven.
He was heaven.
“Didn’t expect that,” he murmured after they pulled apart to breathe. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You?”
Was he kidding? She’d known for years that she’d melt into a boneless heap if he ever touched her. What she hadn’t known was that the reality of kissing him would be so much better than the fantasy. And her fantasy had been pretty damn good. “After earlier? Yeah.”
A corner of his mouth curved and flashed a dimple that went with the wicked light in his eyes. “I came home thinking I’d figure out what I should do with myself, and to maybe shut my damn brain off for a while. Mission accomplished, because when I look at you, it shuts right off.”
She shook her head with a smile. “Is it coming to you? What you want to do with yourself?”
“I know what I want to do with you.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” He looked around at the river running by them. “Stay or go…Do something because I think I should, or because I want to.” He shook his head. “I thought I had it figured out, but I don’t. I have nothing figured out at all.”
She ran her fingers over the bandage on his temple, and his expression softened as he grabbed her hand.
“I came here feeling like the rug had just been pulled out from beneath me,” he said. “Knowing damn well I wasn’t in any shape to enter into any kind of a relationship. I didn’t expect you, Lizzy.” Letting go of her hand to cup the back of her head, he nuzzled at her throat.
Her eyes drifted shut as he slid his hands back beneath her clothing, making it all but impossible to breathe.
“I didn’t expect you, either—” She broke off on a shuddering gasp when his hands slid up her ribs, his thumbs barely grazing the underside of her breasts. “We—” She had to swallow. “We should go.”
“Rest a minute.”
“I’m fine—” Another pass of those thumbs and her knees wobbled.
Which reminded her that she was straddling him, holding him down as she pressed on the impressive erection he had going between her thighs. With a strength she didn’t know she had, she rose to her feet and held out a hand.
He took it and let her pull him up. “That’s some control you have, Lizzy. Given I’m the soldier, it should have come from me.”
“I have as much control as you.”
“You’re definitely the stronger of us, always have been.”
“Stop it.”
“I’m serious. Remember Carla Alvarez?”
Oh, yes, she remembered the beautiful Carla Alvarez. “You spent a month trying to convince her to go out with you?”
“Uh-huh. And you finally told me to stop trying so hard, to let someone else make the first move once in a while. Which worked, by the way. She was my homecoming date.”
Yeah. Lizzy remembered. It’d driven her crazy. She’d wanted to make the move on him, but hadn’t had the nerve. She watched him re-shoulder his backpack, thinking she had the nerve now. It’d come hard earned, but she had it. “Jase?”
“Yeah?”
She fisted her hands tight into his wet poncho.
“What—”
That was all he got out before she yanked him close and kissed him. Kissed him until they were both breathless, and then she shoved him away.
He staggered back a step and stared at her. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”
“I have no idea.” But she did. She knew exactly.
She was over holding back in order to protect herself from hurt. Over setting aside things she wanted, things like her education and becoming a doctor, or taking an extra shift instead of a vacation in order to make sure Cece had what she needed.
Cece didn’t need her anymore, and life was too short. She needed to live it. She was going to get what she’d always wanted, which right at that moment was him.
9
CECE GRABBED her stomach as
another contraction took over, this one deeper and far more intense than the last, and when she opened her eyes again, breathing as if she’d just run a marathon, she realized she was on her knees, clutching her belly. Worse, her stranger had come right into her garage, crouched at her side, and was supporting her with an arm banded around her back.
“There you go,” he said in a low, gruff voice that went with the badass boots and leather jacket, which he wore over a plain tee and torn jeans, all matching the tough expression on his face. “Keep breathing.”
She’d planned on it, thank you very much, perfect stranger.
“How far apart are the contractions?” he asked.
She had no idea. “Oh, God,” she gasped as another hit.
“Not far,” he muttered, summing up the situation with one brief, unhappy glance.
She breathed through the worst of the pain, and then managed to look at him. She couldn’t see past the brim of his cowboy hat, which didn’t help. “Who are you?”
“Hunter. Hunter Bryant. I live next door. Who are you?”
She narrowed her eyes, still breathing like a lunatic. “No one lives next door.”
“I just moved in a few days ago.”
Well, if that was true, he was gone every night, which made him exactly the kind of man she did not need right now.
“Listen, is there someone I can call for you? Because I’m not any good at this.”
“I haven’t seen you,” she said stubbornly. “Oh, God. Goddammit.” The pain came hard and all-consuming, and nothing like menstrual pains, damn her damn doctor who’d said they would be. “Did I die?” she demanded, gripping the front of his jacket and fisting it tight. “Are you my frigging angel of death, Mr. Badass Biker Dude? Because first of all, the irony? Sucks. And second, I’m not ready to go. I have a baby coming and I’m all it has. Well, me and Lizzy, but she’s bailed me out of every mess I’ve ever gotten myself into, so it’s my turn to finally stand up and do this right. Do you hear me? I’m not going. I refuse.”