Page 6 of Kissing in the Rain
When they reached land, he put her down but didn’t pull his hands off her immediately. “You okay?” heasked.
She nodded, hugging her arms around herself. “I thinkso.”
“Good.”
She watched him head up a slight hill toward some dunes and brush, which was all the island seemed to be made of. There were no trees that she could see. Nothing to shield them from the howling wind and drivingrain.
She held a hand over her eyes, futilely trying to see. She was pretty sure she’d lost one of her contact lenses when she’d gone overboard. Maybe both. Everything was blurry as she watched Gabe pull a tent out of his bag and start building it in thebrush.
He moved quickly, and within a matter of minutes, he was ushering her inside. “Better?” he asked when they were seated next to each other. It was hard to hear him over the loud tapping of the rain on the nylon covering right above theirheads.
“Y-yes. Except I’m drenched and c-c-cold.” She shivered again. “Are you sure we need to stay out here all night?” She’d always despised camping. Her father used to take her and her brother on a trip once per summer. Except they’d never camped in bad weather, and they’d always had their basic needscovered.
Gabe was a blurry image beside her. Yep, she’d definitely lost one of her contact lenses. And her head was throbbing, she suddenly realized. Putting a hand to her left temple, she felt the large lump that was creepingup.
Gabe’s hand followed hers. “That looks bad. You must have hit your head when you went overboard outthere.”
Electricity sizzled from histouch.
She sucked in a breath and pulled back just as much from the pain as from the fact that this was Gabe Sawyer. She didn’t want him to touch her. Or she did, always had, and she hated that. “I’mfine.”
“Little Miss Tough Girl,” he saidquietly.
“You know I always hated when you called me that. You never thought I was tough. You were just making fun of me when you saidthat.”
“Oh, you were tough, all right. I worried you’d beat me with one of those books you were always lugging around if I said the wrongthing.”
This made her laugh. Her laughter froze in her chest when he started to peel off his wet T-shirt. “What are you doing?” She was half-blind at the moment, but she could see well enough to know he was one hundred percent tannedmuscle.
“I’m wet. I’ll be warmer without the soggy clothes.” His gaze lowered to her drenchedsundress.
“No. No, I’m fine,” she said again, even as she started trembling uncontrollably. Every time a fierce wind blew outside, a little bit of it rushed in through the tent’s flap and chilled hermore.
“I can’t keep you warm if you’re in that, and it’s only going to get coldertonight.”
“Keep me warm? How do you expect…?” Her mouth fell open as she pieced together the scenario in hermind.
“I’ve seen guys get really sick in this kind of weather, even in a short amount of time. Contrary to popular belief, hypothermia is just as likely in the summer as thewinter.”
Her mind was racing, looking for anotheroption.
“Come on, Jillian. It’s not like I haven’t seen you half-nakedbefore.”
She pulled back and gasped. “I was wearing a bikini that night!” she snapped, hating to relive the memory. Her adolescent hormones had gotten the best of her the night she’d thrown herself at Gabe, and she’d thought he was crushing on her as hard as she washim.
Gabe chuckled and held up his hands. “It’s my job to keep you safe right now. I promise, I won’tlook.”
“Fine.” Seeing no other option, she peeled off her dress but left her bra and panties on, which was the equivalent of a mini bikini—just like she’d worn when she’d slipped into his bedroom at fifteen years old. Then she hurriedly sat down in the dark tent and folded her arms over her chest, trying to cover herself as much as possible. The tent was made for one person only, so she and Gabe were pretty much shoulder to shoulder.Bareshoulder to bareshoulder.
She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. Thenrepeated.
“You’re not going to start hyperventilating, are you? I don’t have paper bags in my emergencykit.”
Despite her nerves, she laughed softly. “No. My therapist told me taking deep breaths helps during times of stress.” She felt his eyes on her. “I’m not crazy, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m going through a divorce. Or, actually, I’ve gone through a divorce. It’s official now. I’ve been seeing a therapist over the past year to deal with some of the repercussions of a badmarriage.”
“Sorry about that,” he saidquietly.
“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who apparently has horrible taste in men. I’m not sure a therapist can fix that,though.”
