Page 48 of When I Fall In Love

Buckle up, Buttercup, you can do this.

The harder I try to steer the paddleboard away from the current, the more I seem to slide towards it. Shit. Not panicking… not panicking… I push harder, faster, with more vigor, but even this exertion doesn’t make me warmer—I need to get back to shore, like yesterday already.

With all the force I can muster, I dig deep and paddle hard, then at the last second twist the paddle to force the board to change direction. This move would work perfectly in a canoe or anything else. But I’m standing tall and ready to topple over with the least bit of tilt, encouraged by a rogue wave that hits me just so. I would have been fine… except my shaky legs impulsively decide to correct my wonky balance. In that split second of idiocy which I see homing in on me from a mile away, I topple—

The water knocks the air right out of my lungs. My head goes under. My feet find zero purchase. It’s deep here and freezing. I grapple for the paddleboard and manage to put the paddle on it. I try to heave up onto it but can’t seem to get a proper grip.

I’m Leo, hanging onto that stupid wooden door. Kate is nowhere to be seen and the Titanic is long gone.

Bottom line: I’m frozen meat.

23

HUNTER

I knock on Beth’s door but there’s no answer.

After lunch and some indigestion trying to process the full reality of Raiden’s public outcry in the Pie Chart, I could only stare blindly at my computer screen. Work was the last thing on my mind.

On a platter overruled every other thought and objection. I called it a day, stuck my head into Derek’s office to tell him to take over the show until I got back, and headed out to the drug store. I had no idea where I was going with this and what would happen, but I wasn’t about to be without condoms. And thumbs up for self-checkout and discreet packaging… nothing can set the tongues of Ashleigh Lake wagging like an indiscreet purchase of contraceptives. Trust me, I know.

On the way home, my body had been buzzing, with jitters of anticipation literally shaking my organs. I deposited my purchase on my nightstand minutes ago and headed straight over to her place. Now, standing in front of her door, I’ve countered every objection to having sex with my ex with a logical argument. The only thing that can stop me now is if she says no.

Hell. That’ll hurt.

We can start with hello and see where it goes. I knock again and listen with my ear to the door. Nothing. She can’t be gone. As far as I know her car is still standing at Brodie Farm.

I go around the cottage to her deck and immediately notice that my neon green paddleboard isn’t in its slot on the rack. Her sneakers and socks are tossed negligently to the side and on the small side table next to a deck chair, her paperback is flip-flip-flipping in the breeze next to a half-full glass of orange juice and a mug. It’s not a good time to be out on the water, despite the sunshine and the illusion of warmth. I know this weather. The wind is always stronger on the lake and a cold front is on its way, bringing an icy lick to the air.

I look over the water and spot her about ninety yards offshore, still upright, right there where the current swirls deep under the surface of the lake. I watch as she struggles to turn around. Shit. My girl’s in trouble but I’m not sure she’s realized it yet.

My shoes go first. I roll up my pants. I’m already at the canoe rack when I watch her grapple for balance and in one predictable move, crash into the water.

In seconds I’m rowing like a madman. I watch her intently. She can’t seem to push up and onto the paddleboard by herself. Shit. The water is still bearable—that depends on who you ask and how much time you spend in it—but even from here Beth looks deathly white. She must be freezing, and this wind is still picking up.

“Beth!” My voice gets carried away. She’s still trying to push onto the board, again and again, just never getting enough of a kick up to give her a proper push. This is how people drown. If she’d stayed close to shore, she could’ve doggie paddled out in a minute. She could still paddle to shore if she doesn’t panic, but she’s probably not thinking straight right now.

“Beth!” I’m close enough now. She blinks and glances my way. Her lips are blue but the panic in her eyes flickers for a second before she gasps on a cry. I slow down and drift right up to her, place my paddle to the side and go on my knees. “I’m going to pull you out, okay? You kick, push on the paddleboard and let go when I tell you to.”

She nods, out of breath.

“Shoulder in first, okay?”

“Yes,” she breathes.

I have her by the collar and lean in. “Now kick hard and push.” As soon as I feel the upward motion of her body, I reach deeper for her waist and grab a fistful of her pants. “Let go!” I surge up and lean back with all my strength and weight and twist at the same time so we don’t topple in the opposite direction and both end up in the water.

The sluice of water hits me about the same time as her body connects with mine. There’re going to be bruises, but she’s out. We’re both breathing hard and for a moment we just lie on top of each other, letting the canoe stabilize. “Are you okay?” I ask, right by her ear. She’s shivering uncontrollably.

“I think so. Thank God you’re here.”

I close my eyes for a moment. Yes. Thank God. “Let’s get you to shore. Sit up slowly.”

She’s so cold, her skin has taken on the icy look of marble. I’d love to have her against my chest, but rowing will be harder, and I have to get her warm as soon as possible. With this windchill, hypothermia is a reality.

“Sit between my legs. At least the wind won’t get you so much there.” I reach in and rip loose the leash attached to her ankle.

“The paddleboard,” she murmurs as she scoots until my thighs hug her shoulders.

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