Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Brooke and I looked at each other as we placed ours in the box, meeting eyes for a significant moment. I knew what she was telling me.
It’s easier this way. We don’t have to fight the temptation.
I want to think clearly like I do when I’m assessing a company, and there’s no fog of lust, affection, the future, or anything else like that.
Just the situation and how to fix it.
We circle the island, then slow down as we head toward a narrow passage between two huge rock faces, the surface catching the rising sun. Everything is bright, and the heat is beginning to build as the sun rises higher and higher.
As we glide into the passage, shadows suddenly close in on us, and everybody oohs and ahhs.
“Please be extra careful here,” the guide says, a Kiwi woman called Charlotte. “The reduced visibility will make it harder for us to find you if you fall overboard.”
We’re all wearing life jackets, but I understand why she feels the need to give us this warning. The rock faces rise massively around us, joining at parts, completely blocking out the sun.
At the end of the passage, I can make out more sun-touched water.
Clive grins at Cynthia, and she returns it without any guilt or wondering if their marriage is going to wreck anybody’s life. I envy them, praying for the day Brooke and I can be like them.
We’re almost at the end when Gil lets out a roar unlike any I’ve ever heard from him.
I leap to my feet on instinct, rocking the boot, drawing a sharp look from Charlotte.
“Brooke!” Gil roars, and my blood turns to ice. I’ve read that in books before. But I’ve never felt it.
Until now.
My whole body goes cold and focused.
“What happened?” I shout.
“She fell in.”
“Wait a second,” the guide yells at me, but it’s too late.
I leap into the water.
CHAPTER 11
Brooke
I flounder in the semidarkness, feeling like the biggest idiot who’s ever lived. I was daydreaming, leaning against the edge of the boat, wishing I hadn’t left my phone behind.
And then there was a crash as the boat snagged a rock.
It tipped slightly.
Everybody else was able to hold on, but not me. My mind was too busy thinking about Banner, and now I’m kicking my legs and arms, trying to spin around so I find the boat.
Water rushes all around me. Dad’s voice is raised.
Somebody else is shouting.
I warn myself to calm down. It’s not like I’m stranded, and the life jacket is keeping me afloat.
But I’ve never been the strongest swimmer.
“Calm down.”
It’s Banner’s voice, closer to me than I expected it would be.
“Brooke,” he says sharply. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
Suddenly, his arm loops around my waist. He holds me tightly, with protective strength, as he begins to swim, guiding me after him.
“Grab onto my shoulders,” he says.
I do as he says, digging my fingernails into his firm muscles, and then he ducks his head and swims powerfully. I’m hugging close to his back, and suddenly I’m smiling like a loon.
It’s like proof he’ll always save me, always do his best to be there for me.
I stop smiling when we reach the boat, considering I’ve just freaked everybody out. Banner climbs up and then reaches down, grabbing me under the armpits and hauling me up with surprising gentleness.
Even now, I have to focus on not focusing on his touch.
I have to remind myself that, to everybody else, he’s a family friend who’s simply doing the right thing.
Nobody knows how badly I want him to keep his hand there, or pull me into his arms, hold me, kiss the top of my head and tell me everything’s okay.
“Everybody settle down,” the guide snaps as the boat rocks side to side.
“Brooke, are you okay?” Dad asks, ignoring the guide’s glare as he walks over and then carefully sits next to me.
Banner is on my other side, his leg touching mine, both of us soaked. Water drips down my back, my clothes sticking to me.
I feel him, it – my man’s gaze, moving up and down my body. The same temptation strikes me, but I look at dad instead.
If I study Banner with his soaked clothes stuck to him, it might be obvious to everybody how badly I care and want him.
“I’m fine, Dad,” I say.
“Thanks to Banner,” Dad looks across me, nodding firmly. “Thank you.”
“Of...of course,” Banner says, wringing his hands, and only I know why he can’t fully take the praise.
Only I know how stained with guilt we feel.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dad asks.
“It’s not much worse than when one of the dogs loses its temper with me at work, Dad. I’m fine. Honestly. I just want to get into the sun, so I can dry off.”
“The weight’s all off now,” the guide mutters, glancing at Banner.
Dad’s voice rises, his face coloring red a little. “What do you want him to do? Swim back? He just saved my daughter’s life.”