Page 24 of Brewbies
A pained moan filtered from the reeds on the right and a little down the hill.
Ethan plunged into the marshy flora to find Darby already struggling to retrieve her bike from where it’d tangled in the moss and mud.
A relief so confoundingly potent struck him dumb for the several seconds it took for her to realize her handlebars were not only bent, but her back wheel was mangled.
“Son of a bitch.”
“Don’t move,” he commanded. “I need to assess the extent of any injuries.”
She rolled her eyes up to where he shined his flashlight down at her and lifted her hand against the glare. “Oh, I’m fine. I’m an aerialist and a dancer. Weknowhow to fall. Hell, we know how to fall and make it look good.” She kicked a mud-stained hip out and perched her hand on it in a vixen pose.
He could argue with no particular point of that.
As he scanned her for wounds, he couldn’t help but notice that the tumble had only turned her into his fifteen-year-old fantasy after he’d discovered bikini mud wrestling for the first time on cable.
Not that she had on a bikini at themoment, but merging the fantasies was something his brain did before he thought to suggest it.
“Take my hand,” he said, bracing himself on the slope and reaching down toward her.
She handed up the corpse of her bike. “Take Lola first.”
He lifted the wreckage with one hand and discarded it behind him before reaching back down for her.
The roadside ravine was a bit too deep for their fingers to reach.
“Grab my flashlight,” he said, extending it.
“Thanks.” She snatched it from his hand, and bounced the light off every part of ground she could safely reach.
“No, dammit, so I can pull you up.”
“In a minute,” she snapped, as she shined the light further down to where the creek turned into a river this time of year.
He blinked. “A minute isn’t going to help you get back up the hill in those shoes.”
“No, but it might help me get my basket. It fell down the side of the goddamn hill, and I need a goddamn stick long enough to get it.” She gesticulated an impressive tantrum that had him catching his breath that she didn’t go tumbling down the hill.
“We’ll get you a new basket. Come on.” He reached out again.
“Getting a new one would defeat the entire point. I found that basket at an estate sale.” She looked up at the sky and shook her head. “Not to mention, the baked brownies inside it were so good, they nearly restored my faith in a higher power.”
Yeah. Well. He wasn’t climbing down a ravine in the middle of a soggy night so she could get high.
With a deflated sigh, she turned to him and reached out.
“Hey!” she gasped as he lifted her bodily, and didn’t set her down until he’d taken her the five or so strides to the road.
Once her sandals touched the ground, she squirmed out of his grip and lunged for her bicycle. The handlebars came off in her grip.
Ethan caught the frame before it fell over again. “Looks like the bolt holding it on is sheared clean through.”
“You don’t say,” she droned, examining the damage.
“Your back tire is shot. The rim looks bent. You will probably need to replace it.”
Her eyes went round and owlish in her dirt-smudged (and still adorable) face. “Oh? Is that so, sheriff? Tell me, is the earth round? Is water wet? Is there any other wisdom you can share with me where my lack of a dick would have hindered my own deduction?”
A defensive retort jumped to his lips, then he bit it back.
