Page 94 of Pretend Girlfriend

“Because you’re…” I stopped myself from saying a big hunk. “Because you’re strong.”

He smiled like he knew what I was going to say. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Not a compliment. Just an observation.”

“Uh huh.”

Listen. I didn’t consider myself the damsel-in-distress type. I hated those women. I could take care of myself.

But having a busted ankle, and then being carried to safety by a very strong man? Who was shirtless? It kind of turned me on. I was only human, after all. This was the female equivalent of a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader bouncing her boobs in a man’s face.

He doesn’t need to know that. But based on the way he kept grinning, I suspected he already knew.

As soon as we neared the starting point, Landon and the others came running toward us. “What happened?!” he demanded.

Theo was there, eyes wide and concerned.

“Twisted my ankle,” I said. “Look.”

By now, my right ankle was swollen up to the size of an orange. The skin was already turning a gnarly shade of bluish-purple.

“Fuck!” Landon said.

“She tried limping home,” Austin explained, “but can’t keep any weight on it. You can take it from here, chief.”

Theo stepped forward to take me, then stopped himself as Landon reached me first. Thankfully, nobody had noticed. Austin handed me over to Landon like I was a big bag of dog food. Landon bore my weight easily.

“Better watch out,” Danicka teased. “Austin might be making a move on your girl, Landon.”

Landon and I both laughed. Maybe a little too hard.

“There’s a medical room next to the lobby,” Landon said. “Let’s get you all fixed up.”

I never had a chance to thank Austin, because Landon was carrying me up to the resort, escorted by half the wedding party. I looked over Landon’s shoulder and saw Austin standing on the beach, shirtless and concerned.

He gave me a final stomach-fluttering wink before we disappeared from sight.

39

Joanna

The medical office attached to the lobby was also the room where the lifeguards hung out while rotating their shifts by the pool. Two Jamaican lifeguards jumped up from their chairs and immediately took charge of my care, poking and prodding and examining my ankle.

While they worked, I thought about what had happened. Austin was a good-looking guy—that was undeniable—but I hadn’t really looked at him beyond that. Now I felt a much deeper attraction. I knew it was the bullshit damsel-in-distress feeling, which was frustrating. But that didn’t make the attraction go away.

And there was Landon, sitting in a chair in the corner watching with concern while the lifeguards wrapped my ankle. We absolutely had a connection now, a connection that was much stronger than when we made this agreement two weeks ago. He didn’t need to be here, yet he refused to leave; and it wasn’t just to maintain the appearance of a caring boyfriend, either.

Then there was Theo, who had wanted to help on the beach but was forced to watch rather than blow our cover.

This honeymoon was quickly going off the rails. Thankfully we were only here three more days.

The lifeguards gave me some painkillers, along with an anti-inflammatory topical cream I could rub directly onto my ankle. With a recommendation to ice my ankle several times a day, they sent me on my way with a pair of crutches.

Landon went to inform his family that I was fine, and I hobbled straight to the nearest bar. If anyone needed a drink, it was me. The only annoying part was that after pouring my beer, the bartender faced me and stared at the glass as if he thought he might catch another creep trying to slip something into it.

“Margarita, please,” Marisa said while taking the stool next to mine. “How’s the ankle?”

“Not broken.”

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