by Kyra Jacobs
“Wouldn’t want that,” Kayla mumbled, eyes on the pier and frozen in her seat.
“Look, all we need to do is pry up four or five boards and then screw the new ones into place.”
“New boards,” she echoed. Her eyes brightened. “Oh, so we’ll need to cut the new boards? And stain them? I could do that for you. The tools are back at the barn, right?”
“Nope, I measured the boards last week. Cut and stained them over the weekend.” Brent walked around and stopped before her, blocking her view of the pier. “All I need you to do is play nurse while I operate. Hand me tools, boards, screws…”
Kayla’s right brow arched higher on her forehead. Oops, so that’d been a bit of a Freudian slip. Not that he’d ever turn her away from playing nurse or offering screws.
One thing at a time, Masterson…
“You think you can handle that?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Of course I can handle it.”
“Good.”
A bee buzzed past his ear, and Brent pushed the whole nurse thing aside—temporarily. DeWalt cordless drill in hand, he headed for the pier. Kayla, however, remained in the Gator, white-knuckling the seat cushion.
“Gonna be difficult to hand me supplies from way over there.”
“I-I’m enjoying the view, all right?”
“If you say so.”
Brent grinned and kept walking. If there was one thing he’d learned being around Kayla, it was that she couldn’t resist a battle of the wills. He stepped out onto the pier and stopped at the first rotten board he came to. Too bad it was a good ten feet out from shore—she probably wouldn’t come anywhere near this far. He flipped the DeWalt’s direction switch to reverse.
“So how long have you lived in Fort Wayne?”
“My whole life,” she called. “My parents, too. Tommy was the first rebel, chose an out-of-state college.”
“Your dad stayed there, then?”
“Oh, yeah. Too many memories he’d have to leave behind.”
“I can understand that.” Brent cast a quick glance back at the Gator. Kayla had still made no move to leave her seat. Wow, she really was afraid of the water. Best to keep her talking then. Another bee buzzed by as he knelt down on the pier. “Is that why you stayed, too?”
“No. I stayed because I had a year of college left. And then I got a job offer from Wayne Advertising right after graduation.”
Brent set about loosening the screws from the rotten plank. Once they were nearly out, he stopped with the drill and loosened them the rest of the way by hand to keep them from falling into the pond. With his luck, he’d be the one to step on them this summer and need a damned tetanus shot. “Can’t beat that. Was it the first job you’d applied for?”
“No. But it was the only company where my dad had connections.”
“Ah. Well, you know what they say—it’s not what you know, it’s who you know who knows who you need to know.”
Kayla laughed. “Wow, say that five times really fast.” Her mood sobered then. “Unfortunately, it’s turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing. I’m starting to think I’d rather be hired for what I know, not because of who knows whom.”
“Never underestimate connections, Kayla,” Brent said, freeing the last old screw. “You never know when one might come in handy.”
He stood, tucked the loose screws into his back pocket, then straddled the loose plank. “You ready to help me?” he asked, looking at his still-seated helper.
Her gaze flickered to the pond.
“I promise to keep you dry,” he said, his voice low and sure.
“You already said that.” Her eyes narrowed as she stepped out of the Gator.
He shrugged. “Seemed like something worth repeating. Now, here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to pull up the old boards one at a time and bring them to you. You throw them in the back of the Gator and then bring me a new one. Got it?”
“Got it. Oh!” Kayla swatted at something near her face. “I wouldn’t have expected bees to be out this early in the season.”
“Well, don’t swat at it, you’ll only piss it off.”
She bobbed again and took a few hurried steps toward the edge of the pier. “Give me the board already, will you?”
Brent rolled his eyes. Darned city girl. He stepped forward, knelt down by the pier’s side, and grabbed hold of the board’s edge that he’d just loosened. If he was lucky, the entire piece would come free without snapping. Though judging by how badly rotted the piece was, he didn’t expect that to happen. He gave the board a careful tug. It didn’t move.
“Huh,” he said, glancing back to make sure he’d removed all the screws holding it to the pier. Which, as far as he could tell, he had.
“What, forget to eat your Wheaties this morning?”
“Wheaties are nasty,” he grumbled, and gave the board another tug. Still nothing. Two bees buzzed by. “And they’re missing a key ingredient.”
“What’s that?”
“Bacon.”
Brent tightened his grip once more and gave the board a solid jerk. Still nothing. Pissed that it wouldn’t budge, he stood and straddled the rotten plank, then reached down with both hands.
“Right,” said Kayla. “Because growing boys need their—”
Brent gave the board a mighty tug, and a section of it broke free. Attached to its underside was part of a massive, formerly hidden beehive. In an instant the air around him came alive as an angry swarm of bees blotted out the sun and drowned out whatever Kayla was saying. Brent dropped the plank and scrambled backward. Three steps later, his foot met thin air.
Kayla watched in horror as a cloak of angry bees seemed to swallow Brent whole. Her fears intensified when, in a desperate attempt to flee the buzzing monsters, he stumbled right off the pier and into the pond.
“Brent!” She screamed, and ran along the shoreline away from the pier, eyes focused on the water’s surface. “Brent!”
Oh, God, where is he?
The swarm of bees condensed over the pier, the buzz nearly deafening. Even if Kayla could swim, there’d be no way for her to dive in from there and save him without getting stung a thousand times. No, the only way to save him now would be by swimming out to where he’d gone in.
Only, she couldn’t swim.
“No, no, no!” she cried, hands on either side of her head. She couldn’t bear to stand there, helpless, watching him drown. In a panic she rushed forward, stopping at the edge of the water.
How hard can it be? Paddle with my arms, kick with my legs. Ripples from his splash lapped at the shore, taunting her.
But common sense quickly wove its way back into her consciousness. She had no idea how deep the water was, or how she’d ever manage to pull him to shore without drowning herself. That’s when she saw a line of bubbles in the water, running parallel with the shore a dozen feet or so out. A second later, Brent broke through the surface, gasping for air.
“Brent! Oh, thank God. Swim this way, over here.”
His gaze flashed to the buzzing pier, then back to her. “A-a-are y-you al-l r-right?”
“Me?” Kayla stared at him, dumbfounded. What kind of stupid question was that? “I’m fine. Now get out of there before you catch hypothermia.”
“H-hypo-th-thermia’s n-n-not s-something you c-c-catch.”
With a grunt, Brent pushed against something beneath him, and Kayla watched him rise out of the pond. He started toward the shore, the water skimming his upper thighs.
“Wait, that’s how deep it is over there? Of all the… Do you know how worried I was that you were going to drown?”
A faint grin came to his lips, which, she noticed as he drew closer, had taken on a bluish tint. “P-people have d-drowned in less.” Brent’s gaze shifted back to the pier as he sloshed his way out. “C-can’t believe I d-didn’t s-see the d-damned hive.”
“There was no way you could have. The cattails block the view from shore.”
He stood befor
e her now, soaking wet and shivering, water running off him and dripping to the ground like a soft, spring rain.
“How badly did you get stung?”
“N-not sure. C-can’t feel much. T-too c-cold.”
“Crap, you are going to go into hypothermia.” She hurried toward the Gator and started riffling through its back cart. “Don’t you have a jacket or something in here?”
“Ruby p-packed a blanket,” he managed. “F-for the p-picnic lunch.”
“Well, you won’t have much need for lunch if you go into shock and stop breathing.” She located a patchwork quilt packed alongside the cooler and snatched it up, then hurried over to Brent and threw it around his shoulders. “Better?”
“S-sure.” A spasm rocked through him, and he nearly lost his balance.
“You’re a terrible liar, Brent Masterson. Come on, we need to get you out of those wet clothes.”
His right brow arched, and Kayla’s mouth went dry. “Not here,” she managed to grind out. “Now get in, I’m driving.”
“F-fine,” he said. “B-but not to R-Ruby’s. We’re going t-to my p-place.”
“We don’t have time to drive all the way over there. You need to get dry before the rest of you turns blue. Or pneumonia sets in! And you probably need to see a doctor. Who knows how many times you got stung?”
“No,” he growled, and stumbled into the Gator’s passenger seat. “And I d-don’t need a d-damned doctor. I j-just need a hot s-shower and some d-dry clothes.”
“You aren’t allergic to bee stings, are you?” Kayla jumped into the driver’s seat and stomped on the gas. The Gator didn’t move. “Oh, God, please don’t be allergic to bee stings. How far is it to the nearest hospital? What if we can’t make it in time?” She slammed her hand on the Gator’s dash. “And what is wrong with this thing?”
“Kayla, s-stop.” Brent’s hand touched her shoulder, his voice calm. “It’s going to b-be all right. My h-house is on the other side of those w-woods. It’s q-quicker than going back to the inn, and I n-need dry clothes.”
She stared up at him, wanting to believe the sureness in his stormy gray eyes. But his lips…they were definitely blue. Could the Gator really get them to his place in time?
“T-trust me.” He reached up and placed his hand on her cheek.
There he was, ice cold and shivering to beat the band yet trying to comfort her. But why? Why was he so worried about her?
Because he cared.
Oh, no. No, this couldn’t be happening. She hadn’t meant to lead him on, didn’t want to break his heart the way his ex-fiancée Nikki had.
I should never have kissed him like that in the woods.
Guilt weighed on her so heavily she wanted to scream. Instead, she drew in a deep breath and focused on doing the responsible thing: take him home and make sure he was okay. After that, well, she’d have to think of a way to let him down easy. Because if things were gearing up back at work like she thought, then her time here was short. Indiana was waiting.
“Fine. Which way to your place?”
Chapter Eighteen
A hot shower never felt so good, and never smarted so bad. Kayla had refused to let Brent leave her sight once they arrived at his place; she’d followed him upstairs and insisted on inspecting him for bee stings. He shooed her out of his master bathroom once the shower was running, refusing to have her see him shiver and shake his way out of his sopping wet clothes. Once they were off, he lunged for the shower, eager for reprieve from the cold…and having forgotten just how damned painful a hot shower on a cold body could be.
He roared as the lukewarm water rained down on his body, turning his bluish skin instantly to red.
“Is it still too hot?” Her voice was laced with concern.
No way would he fess up to that, especially after it’d been her idea to dial it back from the scalding temperature he’d first selected. Brent worked to keep his temper, and his chattering teeth, in check. “N-no.”
“Okay.”
Another spasm rippled through Brent’s body. He’d never been submerged in water so cold before. Hoped to never be again. The bathroom door squeaked open.
“You doing all right? Because if you are, I could get these clothes in the wash for you.”
Brent sighed. The woman had gone into Energizer Bunny mode after his plunge in the pond, always moving or talking. Or both. “F-first floor, behind the kitchen.”
“Great. I’ll be right back. Oof! Yes, Bear, you can come, too.”
The door closed behind her, and a blessed silence descended upon the room. Brent turned the water temp up a notch and bit back a cry of pain. Damn, it stung. But not as much as his pride. Right now, he didn’t know which was worse—falling into the pond in front of Kayla, or barely being able to make it upstairs from all the shivering and muscle cramps. And if she insisted on a clinical full-body inspection after his shower, well, that might just kill him.
What a mess.
He closed his eyes and felt the burning sensation start to ease from his skin. Kayla had been in a total panic back by the pond. Insisting they get him to a hospital, that he needed to see a doctor. She’d done that with his hand after the fight at Chevvy’s, too. What was with her always thinking he needed to get to a doctor, anyway?
Then it dawned on him: her mother.
Only the doctors hadn’t been able to save Mrs. Daniels. Her illness had fallen outside the usual range of tests, had gone undetected. It must have been hell for Kayla, to watch the cancer eat away the woman she clearly looked up to. But still, her mother hadn’t been taken overnight, she hadn’t had to learn of her death from a detached police investigator.
God, what he would have given for some advance notice of that plane crash. A chance to tell his parents good-bye, to let them know how much he loved them…
“You still doing okay in there?”
Kayla’s voice woke him from his silent pity party. “Uh, yeah. Starting to thaw out.”
“Great!”
The hot water began to cool, and Brent knew his time was up. Damn. He shut the water off.
“Done already?”
“Old water heater, doesn’t hold much. Guess it’s time to update.” Brent moved to the far end of the shower and reached a hand out from behind the curtain. “Towel, please?”
A warm, soft towel met his hand. Fresh from the dryer? He hugged it to his chest and savored its warmth and the scent of his favorite fabric softener. She had no idea how much the gesture meant to him right now.
“I found some baking soda while I was downstairs and made up a paste for any stings we find. Hopefully there won’t be any stingers still in there—I hate trying to pry those suckers out.”
Brent grimaced at the thought. “Thanks. Why don’t you just leave that stuff on the counter, and I’ll take care of it when I’m done?”
“Nice try, buddy. But unless you grew a set of eyes in the back of your head, you’re gonna need my help. Besides, you aren’t really going to play shy with me, are you? I have seen you without your clothes on before.”
“Says the woman who’s still fully clothed.”
“Yes. And you should know, she plans to stay that way.”
A devious grin tugged at his lips. Her voice had waivered on that last sentence. No waiver meant no chance, but that sound? Hmm, maybe being naked isn’t such a bad thing after all…
Brent put the towel to his face and drew in a deep breath. He hadn’t had a chance to tell his parents how he felt before they were gone. Was he really going to stand there and do the same thing with Kayla? Because he was definitely falling for her—that warm towel had just pushed him right over the edge. If only he could convince her to give him a chance, to leave Indiana and all that stress and heartache.
“Do you need help drying off?”
“You in a hurry to see me naked or what?” He grinned at the prospect.
“No. I need to make sure you’re not a walking bee stinger pincushion.”
“Uh-hu
h.”
Brent gingerly dragged the towel back and forth across his back. So far, so good. Oh hell, good nothing—it was a freaking miracle he wasn’t covered in stings from head to toe. The cooler weather had saved his ass. That, and the freezing water. He did a quick inspection of his lower extremities. Nope, no stings visible.
“You know, if you did get stung you’re gonna want to get this paste on before the itching gets too bad.”
He tucked the towel loosely around his waist, pushed the curtain back, and leveled a look of mock annoyance at her as he stepped out of the shower. Kayla’s gaze fixed on his naked torso and her cheeks blossomed with pink.
She cleared her throat and stepped behind him. “Now, uh, just hold still while I check you out.”
“You know, usually when people check each other out, they don’t give a play by play.”
“This isn’t that kind of checking you out.”
He grinned at her insolent tone. “Find anything back there?”
“So far, only two stings on each shoulder blade, no stingers visible. Man, I can’t believe how lucky you were.” She dabbed some of the cold goop onto his shoulder. “Do they itch?”
He sucked in a sharp breath as the cold paste met his skin. “No. Maybe I’m still in shock or something.”
The thought only worried him slightly. Right now, he had more important things on his mind. Like how best to take advantage of their tight quarters.
“God, I hope not. It’s been too long since I took a CPR class. I don’t even remember what to do with someone who’s gone into shock.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. And you call yourself a nurse.”
“No. I don’t.” She lifted his arm and inspected the left side of his body. “And besides, I’d make a terrible nurse. I…don’t do well in hospitals.”
Brent watched her work, enjoying that she was too focused on looking for embedded stingers to notice him staring. Kayla’s brows were pulled into a small V as she chewed on her lower lip. She looked absolutely adorable, concentrating like that. Good thing she wasn’t a nurse—who knows how many patients she’d have hitting on her.
