Page 33 of Her Filthy Mistake

“The captain thought we were here as a couple who’s trying to work on their marriage. Not strangers who want nothing to do with each other.” My eyes sting at the bright sunshine. At least I’ll die claiming that. I’m not shedding a tear over him. Ever. Okay. Ever again. “That’s part of their plan. And I’m sure that’s why we won the prize. There’s no way we know more about each other than Mom and Landon do.”

“Yeah, that is a little hard to believe.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I glance down at his fingers. “You can let go of me now. Thank you.”

“No problem.” He raises his hands in defeat. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. I already did that last night.” I spin on my heel, slide the mask over my face, and adjust the snorkel. While I’ve never been snorkeling before, the instructions were thorough enough that a two-year-old could do it.

As I ease into the water, I let the tension from hours of disappointments and hurt wash away. There’s no reason to hold onto the fantasy that someday he’s going to want a relationship with me. They all say they aren’t good enough when they mean they aren’t into you. I’ve had girlfriends that have gotten that blowoff. And if I hadn’t gotten the memo already, he’s shouting it loud and clear today.

The water caresses my skin, sending me floating into peace and tranquility. I watch in fascination as the fish swim past me as if they’re ignoring my intrusion. While others stop and nibble on my thighs. It’s gorgeous. Mesmerizing. Slowly, the anger dissipates, and I’m surrounded by beauty. And the minutes of blissful relaxation turn into hours.

Fuck. The word lashes through my mind as pain shoots from my foot and up my leg as I flounder around, trying to see what’s behind me. A jellyfish. Shit, those babies sting as badly as they said.

Don’t panic. Don’t get upset. Calmly search for the beach and make your way to safety.

I follow the instructors’ words to a T as my heart thuds in my ears. It’s difficult navigating in the sand without putting any pressure on my foot.

As if Jace senses my haste, he turns toward me and swims the couple of hundred feet between us at a pace that would equal an Olympic medalist’s gold medal efforts. Within several strokes, he’s standing at my side, clasping my upper arm with his mask and snorkel clutched between the fingers of his other hand.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” His eyes are panicked as they rake over me. At this point, we’re only in waist-deep water, so he can see my upper half with ease.

“It’s fine.” I cringe as I take a step. “Well, it might not be fine because it hurts, but I’ll live. A jellyfish stung my foot.”

“Jesus.” He lifts me out of the water and cradles me to his chest. His bare chest. At some point, he must have removed his T-shirt before getting into the water. “I set the radio down in the gazebo. Hold on, and as soon as we get to it, I’ll contact them to fly in and get you.” He sloshes through the water until he reaches the beach and adjusts his grip at the change in resistance.

He’s moving so fast, I’m afraid I’ll fly if he trips. I wrap my arms around his neck to keep from slipping to the ground and breaking something. “I think you’re overreacting.” I bounce against his body with each long stride.

“They said they’d fly in if there was a medical emergency.”

“I don’t think a jellyfish sting is considered a medical emergency that warrants a helicopter. They said there’s a first aid kit in the gazebo that will ease the stinging, and you can remove the tentacle things. It’s not a big enough deal to call in a helicopter, for fuck’s sake. I don’t want everyone panicking back at the resort and thinking I’m dying.”

“They’ll understand.” His jaw is tight as if he’s not willing to listen to reason.

I grip his face and turn it toward me as he stops in mid-step. “You’re not calling for the equivalent of life flight for a jellyfish sting. Get the first aid kit. Take the tentacles out. And let’s wait. We were in the water for a couple of hours, so they’ll be headed this way before long. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Fine,” he growls but won’t meet my eyes as his pace turns less anxious, and we retreat under the cover of the gazebo. He lowers me to the sofa, retrieves the first aid kit, and plops down on the coffee table, cradling my foot in his enormous hands. The worn, rough patches brush against my flesh. “But if it looks bad, I’m calling anyway. You’re not losing your foot or dying on me.”

I lean forward until our heads are side by side as I lift my right foot above my left leg, trying to search for the pulsating section of my foot. “That almost sounds like you care.”

“Of course I care.” His eyes meet mine. “I care too fucking much.” He jerks his attention back to my foot and slides his index finger along the pad of my foot. “I think I can get them.” He tilts his head and studies the tenacles. “There are only a couple of visible barbs. You must have barely put any weight down on it.”

I blink as my attention shifts to his face. For some reason, I don’t care that much about my foot at this moment. “Then why are you fighting it?”

Chapter Nineteen

Jace

As I brush a finger over her puffy and discolored flesh, I yearn for a drink. It would be so easy to escape it all by drowning in whiskey. It does no good to tell her how I feel. Nothing can come from it. Her father has made it clear that he’ll ruin her life if I so much as look at her. And her mom? My brother? Hell, no one would want us together. Why would they? I have nothing to offer her.

“We’re relatives. Of course, I care.” I deposit her foot on the coffee table and open the first aid kit, retrieving the tweezers, antiseptic, antibiotic ointment, and wrap.

She doesn’t speak as I gather the supplies. It’s better this way. I’m barely holding it together as it is. Between holding her in my arms, walking away, fighting all day, and seeing her in pain, I’m about to lose my shit.

“I got them out.” She climbs to her feet and shakes them off her thumb and into the trashcan.

Clearly, I spent too long fretting rather than focusing on the issue at hand.

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