Page 8 of Between Now and Forever
“Left. I think.” I start to look but swing my eyes back to him instead. “What do I do? I’m afraid to move.”
“You’re going to be okay. I got you. Just stay still.”
He parts the vegetation and inspects the area. I squeeze my thighs so I don’t pee.
“There it is,” he says, as the hissing grows louder. “It’s just a big bull snake. It wants less to do with you than you do him.”
“I beg to differ.” Tears cloud my vision. “Please, help me. I’m gonna puke.”
He stands inches in front of me. The soft, yet strong smile he displays for my benefit causes a tear to trickle down my face.
His smile softens further. “Hey, I said I got you.”
“Then get me.”
“Okay. Your buddy over there is pissed. I will get between the two of you and lift you up in case he wants to strike.”
I whine, my legs wobbling. “Okay.”
He wraps his hands around my waist. The towel is crooked and barely covers my chest and thighs. His fingers dip into the fabric in the front and my bare skin in the back.
All non-life-supporting functions come to a screeching halt.
He positions himself between me and the snake—please don’t get bitten—and all I can concentrate on is how rough the pads of his fingers are against my hips. They’re fire—little bolts of heat that permeate the barriers between us and ignite a storm inside me.
He lifts me up and half over and half through the bush in one swift move.
“Oh, my gosh,”I say, sucking in a lungful of air. The thought of the snake lingering close by brings on a full-body shiver. “I’m going to have to sell my house now.”
He chuckles, pulling me against him.
His body is long and hard as I slide down his torso to the ground. As soon as my feet touch the earth, he digs his fingers deeper in my skin.
“Don’t move,” he says, holding my gaze.
“Why?”
He shrugs out of his flannel, exposing his wide, tanned shoulders.
My God.
He reaches behind me, and the soft fabric of his shirt touches my ... bare ass.
Oh.Oh!
My eyes go wide as I remember that there are undoubtedly parts of me exposed to the world.
“Hold the towel against your front,” he says. Once I’m covered, he steps back and ties his shirt around my waist. He cinches it tightly at my belly button. “There you go. That’ll keep you covered until you get inside.”
I skim his solid chest, chiseled abdomen, and the hint of a happy trail leading into his jeans as discreetly as I can. But when I raise my attention to his face, his shit-eating grin tells me it wasn’t discreet at all.
“Thank you,” I say, patting the top of my head with one hand. I pluck a flower out of my hair and toss it on the ground. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“As soon as you stopped screaming, you would’ve walked out of there.”
“I didn’t scream.”
“You screamed.”
