Page 28 of A Surefire Love
Anson kept a hand on her shoulder as he crouched in front of her, panting. Rivulets ran from his hair down his cheeks. His shirt was plastered to a masculine chest that did indeed look like it belonged to someone who could drag a drowning person from a river. “Can you stand up?”
An involuntary shiver coursed through her. The wasp stings that had caused her to jump throbbed, as did the bottom of her foot. Nothing hurt so badly as to prevent her from rising. She just … needed a minute.
Vegetation crowded the bank, and brown water stirred around her legs. What had brushed past her before Anson caught up? Seaweed? A catfish? Despite the unknown, she knew one fact with certainty: She’d felt completely safe in Anson’s arms.
Cheering registered—the kids, at the edge of the sandybeach. Everyone had seen her tip the canoe. Humiliation heated her cheeks like a sunburn.
“Everyone okay?” Nolan splashed toward them, Mercy close behind.
“Yeah.” Blaze rubbed the tender sole of her foot. The skin didn’t feel broken. Fading adrenaline left her feeling weak, but she was okay. Physically. Her emotions might as well be white-water rafting. As if simultaneous relief and embarrassment weren’t disorienting enough, something more than gratitude toward Anson swirled in her core.
As Nolan and Mercy neared, Anson stood and extended his hand toward her without making eye contact.
She accepted the offer, but he still didn’t look at her. As soon as she balanced on her shaky legs, he stepped away and wiped his hand on his dripping shorts. As if Blaze were dirtier than the grit in the water.
He had a right to be annoyed.
“You did warn me about gymnastics in the canoe.” She smiled apologetically, but he didn’t look.
“You missed your calling.” Nolan clapped Anson’s shoulder.
Mercy threw an arm around Blaze’s waist and rested her head against the life jacket in a side hug. “I was so scared.”
Finally, Anson glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “What happened?”
“A wasp. I think it got me more than once.” She tipped her leg. Like something out of a sci-fi movie, the blood vessels in a four-inch circle had reddened on her thigh. The area itched and stung.
“Are you allergic?” Anson checked over his shoulder, toward the overturned canoe. The first aid kit had been inside. Was anything in it still useable?
“I’ve never had an allergic reaction to a sting, so I think I’m okay there.”
Mercy burrowed closer. “I thought you were going to die.”
Blaze squeezed her. “The life jacket did its job, and I was with a good swimmer.” She risked meeting Anson’s blue eyes—a sincere expression of gratitude required it. “Thank you.”
He exhaled visibly. Under the clinging shirt, that didn’t take much.
When a subject interested her, Blaze became obsessive. She’d spent hours reading up on ADHD, for example. Now, she felt the force of that attention tipping toward Anson.
She could not allow him to become her next obsession.
He motioned them toward the beach. Arm still around Mercy, Blaze obeyed. Judging by the splashing behind her, the men followed.
“Since you’re soaked anyway, want to swim out and get the canoe?” Nolan asked. “Between the two of us, we could handle it.”
“I’d rather use the kayaks.”
“If only they were here.”
Blaze scanned the little beach. A couple of students tossed a football in waist-deep water. Others milled around the beached canoes and the picnic tables. Not one kayak in sight.
“Where are they?” Frustration deepened Anson’s voice.
“Dunno. It seems they didn’t stop.”
“Have you tried their cell phones?” Anson asked.
“Not yet.”
