Page 61 of Undertow

Just one day to breathe.

I flinch when arms slip around me from behind, then relax into her hold. Her lips rest on my shoulder as she presses against my back.

“What’s your favorite adjective?” she asks.

I glance over my shoulder with amusement. “That’s an impossible question to answer. An adjective is nothing without context.”

“Exactly. So your favorite adjective would come from your favorite context, right? It’s a loaded question.”

I let out a breath. This woman.

“Okay. Um… Tangible,” I say quietly.

Substantial.

Lasting.

Real.

Her arms tighten around me, and I close my eyes, relieved she can’t see my face.

Don’t do this, Shaw. Don’t torture yourself. This isn’t… tangible.

“Shaw…”

“What’s your favorite song-piece you’ve collected?” I ask before I get lost.

I feel her breath on my shirt, the pressure of her cheek as she burrows against me. “The intro to ‘Downtown Holiday.’”

“The country song?”

“The song that was playing at Mama’s when I first saw you.”

The blow strikes hard and fast.

I force in a steadying breath.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, sorry. Just cut myself.” I draw the knife along my finger before she can look.

“Oh shit! Come here.”

She drags me to the sink and flips on the cold water. Shoving my hand in the icy stream, she turns apologetic blue eyes up at me. “It doesn’t look deep.”

I manage a weak smile. “No. It’ll be fine.”

I made sure of that. Not on the fingertip, too intrusive and prone to infection. Not on the knuckle. Takes too long to heal. Just the smallest cut on the side where it will be flamboyant with blood but easy to patch up.

I’m a surgeon when it comes to inflicting pain. This was as much a reminder to myself as a distraction for her.

“Good. Because Mama H wants you to help at the general store tonight. I told her that wasn’t fair since you already worked a shift at the Palmetto Grande, but she insisted. Linc isn’t feeling well, and Adrian will need help on a Friday evening.”

“It’s no problem.” I rip a paper towel from the roll and try to ignore her sympathy as I wrap my finger.

“You sure? I’d help but I have some work at the marina.”

The marina. Every night at the marina.That’sthe assignment I need to get so I can find out what’s really going on. But I know from experience the best way to get what you want is to give them whattheywant. Right now, that’s a cooperative, wounded poet.

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