Page 12 of Sweet Summer

Unaware of my internal dialogue, Wyatt jogs to a picnic table and lays me down on top of it. I open one eye and squint at him, watching him grin as he leans over me.

“You’re so dramatic.” He winks, little drops of water spilling down from his face to his…oh wow. His chest. I must have been staring at it pretty hard because he gets this weird expression on his face. One of his hands crosses his stomach and covers his abdominal area, right around the spot where the lines form a perfect V showing off his definition. “What are you looking at?”

You.“Nothing. Just getting back into focus.” I clear my throat as he looks around, flagging Reid before he turns his attention back to me.

“I’ll go get you some water, okay? Stay here.”

My chin continues pounding with pain. “That won’t be a problem.”

I watch as he runs over and joins a few other guys from his fire station who are standing nearby on the scene. It’s incredible, they all look like he does in shorts—hot. Honestly, if Ididn’t hurt so much, I’d get up and tease him. They look like they’re about to shoot a calendar for hot fire daddy bods of the century. Considering the raft race is for charity, with these guys around I feel like I’ve been dropped into a magazine photoshoot.

The day has made me realize one thing, though, and that is charity isgood…in fact, I’m planning my own charitable contribution to the Lake Lorelei Fire Department this year.

Once I get Wyatt to realize I don’t need stitches (which seems to be a thing with us), I finally convince him to take me home. He wants to go to the hospital, but I want my bed, so I get him to agree but only under the caveat that Maisey would be there. I’m a clumsy human and I know when I need surgery and when I need two aspirin and a good night’s sleep. Today, I’m writing myself a prescription for the latter.

However, when we get back it turns out she isn’t here. I walk into the kitchen to find a note on the counter saying she’s staying late at the cafe to prepare for the rest of the week and would most likely stay in town at a friend’s apartment that’s close to the cafe. Can’t blame her for doing that when a week is as busy as this one is for her. Makes it easier for her to open tomorrow at five in the morning if she only has a block to walk to work.

“I guess that means you get me as your nurse for the night.” Wyatt stands before me, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his voice husky and low. “And you can’t argue your way out of this one. As your friend, I wouldn’t leave you here, and as a fireman who has sworn to protect and serve my community, I can’t in good conscience leave you alone.” He walks over, plunks himself down on the couch and throws hisfeet up on the coffee table. When I make eye contact with him, his eyes twinkle. “So, baby, I’m yours.”

My head still hurts and so does my chin. I don’t have the energy to argue, but I’m also not sure if I have the energy to fight off the feelings that are seriously bubbling to the surface right now. I want to shove this down and compartmentalize the situation, at least for a few days. The last thing I need while I’m trying to decide where to live is a complication. And stepping over this line with Wyatt could complicate things.

I sigh and look at the man sprawled across my couch with that lazy smile playing across those sexy, full lips of his. What is it Maisey likes to say? “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

I walk over to the couch and scoot in next to him. “Move over, I’m the one who was injured.”

“Pffft.” He nudges me with his elbow. “You’ll have a mark, maybe some bruising, but we did get ice on it pretty quickly.”

I groan. “All I need is a bruise showing up on my face. Maisey will never let me live it down.”

Wyatt leans forward and swipes the remote from the coffee table. “Feel like streaming something?”

“I do.” I reach over and grab the remote from his hand. “Again, as the injured, I reserve the right to choose. And tonight I pick Dirty Dancing.”

“Good choice,” he murmurs, thumping on a pillow which he’s stuffed behind his head. “Are you going to treat me to a concert with every song tonight?”

“Ahhh, the good old days.” It’s true. I know every song and have made this man sit and listen to the album more times than he probably wants to admit. “Lucky for you my head hurts too much, but raincheck?”

I hit play on the remote, and Wyatt scoots down, making more room for me on the couch so I can lie down. He even helps me get comfortable by tucking a pillow under my head. “You good?”

“As much as I can be with a severe head injury.”

He chuckles. “It’s not severe, you big baby.”

“It hurts like I was hit by a fuel tanker. Dylan’s got a powerful arm.” For all I know she did it on purpose.

“She feels terrible and wants me to tell you she’s sorry. She insisted she come over and help me take care of you, but I told her not to.”

For that I am grateful, but I have to ask Wyatt about her. I decide I’m going to try to sneak in a question like it ain’t no big deal. “Tell her I said thank you, but all’s fair during the raft race. Was this her first one?”

Wyatt nods. “She’s only lived here a few months. Here, you lie down all the way, I don’t want to hog the couch.” He gets up and sits in the chair opposite me, and changes the subject, thus changing tactics. “Can I get you anything at all before we start the movie—food, aspirin?”

I shake my head no. “I’ll be fine.”

Wyatt sits back in his chair, and I sink deeper into the couch. It’s not long before I’m sneaking looks his way while we watch the movie. I want to ask him if he was going to kiss me. Did he mean to do that or was I imagining things? I want to tell him I think I feel something, but there's a huge possibility he’ll laugh at me.

Do I want to open this door or slam it shut?

My mind screams,Get over yourself!And it’s not wrong. I’m an adult, this should be so much easier. The fact that I am a grown-up woman who has a mind of her own spurs me on. I’m going to tell him.

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