Page 12 of Will Bark for Pizza
“Shit,” she sputtered, her eyes doubling in size when she spotted me. “Where did you come from?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She ran her fingers along the back of the dog’s neck. The gesture seemed protective, as though she’d fight me if I threatened her dog. I had to admit, in his doggie life vest, the pup didn’t seem all that intimidating. The mama bear warning in her narrowed eyes made sense. “Really, I’m good. Just a little wounded pride.”
“You hurt?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” she fired back, understandable suspicion in her gaze.
I took a few steps backward, finding firmer footing. My aching toes thanked me.
“I saw you go under,” I explained, brushing water from my forehead before the droplets could roll into my eyes any worse than they already had. “You weren’t comingback up.”
“I’m fine.”
“You were under long enough for me to swim out here.”
“My foot got tangled in pondweed.” She looked at the dog. “Seems like it got us both, huh, Bubbies?”
“I can call someone?—”
“I appreciate your concern, but really, I got it from here.”
If I had any sense, I’d leave well enough alone. Swim back to shore, hope like hell I had a towel to sit on until I could get back to the farm to change, and forget all about the frustrating woman anchored on the other side of a paddleboard. But around redheads, I seemed to be a special kind of stupid.
“At least let me help you back to shore,” I insisted.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I’m not a serial killer or anything.”
“That’s something a serial killer would say,” she pointed out.
“Fair point.” I scanned the lake, the shoreline, the houses, the nearby tents. “If I were a serial killer—which, to be clear, I am not—there are too many witnesses. This would be a really bad place to murder you.”
Husker looked at me, his head tilted at an angle that shouldn’t be physically possible. Add in those big brown doe eyes and pointed ears large enough to pick up a radio signal, and I strongly suspected this dog was good at wielding his cuteness to get anything he wanted.
“Witnesses?” Red sputtered a laugh that ended in a coughing fit. Her eyes watered, mascara smudges running.
I wished I could take away the taste of lake water in her throat. Fragile was the last word I’d use to describe thismystery woman, but a near-drowning scare could rattle even the toughest of people. Something I knew all too well. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“This place is deserted,” she added. “It’s perfect serial killer ground.”
“There are two tents over there,” I said, pointing to the family camping just on the other side of Karl Hayes’ property line. A fire roared, and laughter carried across the lake. “Two adults in that family. Both have been watching since I swam out here.” I waited as her gaze snagged on the campsite. She released an exhale, her shoulders dropping the slightest.
In case it wasn’t enough, I went on. “Across the lake, there’s a couple in their garden. Been there for hours. Green house with the kayaks tied to the boat ramp. The woman’s been off her knees since you went in the water. I bet she’s even called someone by now.”
“What are you, some kind of secret service or something?”
“Or something.”
I’d always been observant, a survival skill I honed at a young age, thanks to an alcoholic father. My military training only sharpened those skills. I couldn’t turn it off if I tried.
“You think she called someone?” Red’s expression was less the relief I expected and a whole lot more like dread. I needed to get this woman and her dog back to shore so I could leave with a clear conscience.
Before I did something reckless, like ask her out.
It didn’t matter that I swore off the opposite sex after my last incident with a redhead cost me a solidjob and uprooted my comfortable life. My brain went stupid around these women. All the more reason to steer clear of the entire female population until I was comfortably established in my new life.
