Page 14 of Catch of a Lifetime
Great.
Getting drenched while fully clothed was never going to be my favourite thing. Even though I should be used to it by now.
Keeping an eye on his face and watching for discomfort, I twisted at the waist and threw my phone up the beach behind me, lobbing it as far as I could. I took a deep breath and lay gingerly down on top of Dave, ducking under the water.
His face brightened and he tilted his chin to kiss me.
I shook my head even as I let the water lift me up and off his body.
He immediately hauled me back flat.
I shook my head again and hitched a thumb behind me at the surface. The tide dragged out, water bubbling and pulling over me. I struggled to get my head above the waves and he rolled his eyes but relaxed his grip.
I spluttered and coughed and sucked in a quick breath just in time. The next wave crashed right over me. My legs lifted and floated straight behind me. I pushed against Dave’s shoulders, managing to slither off him and to the side without—I hoped—snagging his wounds. Once I was clear, I thrashed up to standing.
Dave’s hand immediately locked around my ankle.
I bent down and tried to take his hand. He resisted, thinking that I was trying to detach him. I grabbed his free hand instead. Taking hold of his thick wrist, I gave a gentle tug.
He didn’t move. Not even an inch.
“Come on, Dave,” I said. “Help me out here.” Using two hands, I gave a firmer, businesslike tug and stepped backward.
He frowned at me. Understanding crossed his face when I tipped my chin over my shoulder, gesturing behind me. He let go of my ankle and in one long, powerful undulation, he beached himself.
“I was going topullyou!” I yelled. “Dave. Stop it!”
He writhed himself another few feet up the beach, managing somehow to make it look like an erotic choice rather than a flopping fish—neck arched, wet tendrils of hair wreathing around his shoulders and trailing down his flexing back, muscled shoulders rolling—and when he was clear of the water, he held still, breathing heavily.
I crouched beside him, patting his arms uselessly. He was sitting on his arse, upper body propped up on his elbows, panting at the sky.
“All right?” I asked. Like an idiot.
He grunted, and shot me a sour look.
I rushed over to retrieve my phone, checked to see if Jerry had called again—he hadn’t—and hurried back to Dave’s side. I sat on the sand, and he immediately arranged himself with his head in my lap, grumbling the whole time. I stroked him soothingly, working out the tangles from the long, coarse locks that spilled over my cargo shorts and stuck to my wet, goosebumped legs.
He drifted off again. While I hoped it was a natural slide into a healing sleep, I was almost sure he’d passed out. I touched my fingers to his pulse, as if that would give me some indication. All it told me was that his heart continued to pound away at an alarming rate.
I curled my hand around his throat and rested it there.
Not long after he lost consciousness, I heard the thrum of an engine in the dunes behind me. I turned to look over myshoulder as Jerry appeared at the end of the beach closest to the road. He threw up an arm in greeting, and as soon as the borrowed quad bike hit the packed sand, he accelerated.
Dave sat up sharply and grabbed me.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said. “It’s Jerry!”
Dave frowned and pushed up onto his elbows to eye the rapidly approaching quad bike with suspicion.
“Whoops. Sorry.” Jerry slammed on the brakes, nearly tossing himself over the handlebars, and managing to spray me and Dave with clods of wet sand. “Harder than it looks. Lotta fun, though! I’m definitely getting me one of these.”
“Where are you going to keep it?” He and Marcy had a small, semi-detached cottage in town. It came with a single-car garage that was full of junk and a drive with one parking space they were constantly squabbling over, as they each had a car.
He gave me a winning smile.
“No,” I said.
“We’ll discuss it another time.”
