Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“You pissed at these birds for some reason?” he calls out to me, sounding amused.
“Uh…kind of, yes,” I holler back. “I don’t want them to take my shirt.”
He laughs. “Maybe you should try reasoning with them.”
I shake my head with aggravation. There’s not one thing about this that’s funny.
“My swimsuit top came off in the water,” I explain.
The runner hikes his brows up with interest. “I see.”
“Anyway…could you bring me my shirt? Please?”
Shrugging, he says, “Yeah, sure.”
I wrap my arms around my chest as he slips off his shoes and socks. He reaches for the waistband of his shorts, pausing to ask, “Do you want me to leave these on?”
“Of course! Why would you swim out here naked?” I look up and down the beach, suddenly wishing there were other people near.
“I’d rather not run in wet shorts and underwear,” he explains. “But it’s fine, I’ll leave ‘em on.”
He picks my shirt up. As he wades out into the water and gets closer to me, I get a better look at him. Damn, he really does have an incredible body.
When he reaches me, the water barely even comes up to his chest. He looks down at me, crouched with my arms wrapped tightly around myself. One of his brows hikes up in amusement.
“Can I have my shirt?” I ask impatiently.
He holds out the wadded-up shirt in his hand. “You’re planning to put this on under water?”
I consider this situation for a second before saying, “I guess I’ll have to.”
“You’re not gonna be able to get dressed under water.”
I scowl at him. “Did I ask you to bring me my shirt, or did I ask you for advice?”
“I’m gonna turn around so I can’t see you. If anyone else is on the beach, they won’t be able to see you, either. I’ll pass the shirt over my shoulder, and you stand up and put it on.”
“No!”
He gives me a weary look. “Have it your way.”
He actually may be right. And the thought of walking back to my room with a soaking wet T-shirt on and nothing beneath it isn’t too appealing.
“Okay,” I concede. “Turn around. But don’t look—not even a peek.”
“I’m not gonna look.” He rolls his eyes and turns his back to me.
And what a back it is. There are so many defined lines of muscle there. And his shoulders look like something out of a men’s fitness magazine.
“Are you waiting for something?” he asks.
“Oh, uh…no.”
I take a deep breath and stand up, keeping one arm over my chest as I snatch the T-shirt he’s holding behind his back with my free hand. I scramble into it as quickly as I can while soaking wet.
After a final glance at the man’s back, I walk past him and head for the beach. He’s right behind me, both of us dripping wet as we emerge from the water.
“Thanks,” I say, looking up at him. He has to be 6’2” at least, considerably taller than my 5’7” height.
“No problem.” His brows lower in confusion as he asks, “What are you doing swimming out here all alone?”
I shrug. “I’m enjoying my honeymoon. Lay off.”
“Oh.” He looks up and down the beach. “Where’s your husband?”
“Oh, I’m not married. I’m on my honeymoon by myself.”
“Huh. Is that like a new age thing?”
“No, it’s a my-fiance-told-me-at-the-altar-that-he-screwed-two-of-my-bridesmaids thing.”
His face pulls down into a scowl. “Damn, what an asshole. I’m sorry.”
A group of three kids come charging down the beach toward us, sand buckets and shovels in hand. Several adults follow behind them.
“Well, I guess I better get back,” I say. “Have to buy a new swimsuit.”
Extending a hand toward me, he says, “I’m Knox Deveraux.”
I shake his hand, a tingle of excitement dancing down my spine as our hands touch. “I’m Reese Dalton. Thanks again for your help.”
“No problem.” Knox bends down to pick up his shoes and socks.
I gather my shorts and shoes, pointing in the opposite direction than he was running in. “I’m that way, so…bye.”
“You need me to walk you back?”
Need? No. But want?
I banish the thought immediately, reminding myself that until a few days ago, I was engaged to be married. I’m the rebound poster girl.
“I’ll be okay,” I say. “But thanks.”
He gives me a small smile and a nod.
I walk down the beach in the direction of the resort, only letting myself glance back over my shoulder once.
His back really is impressive. And the view from the front is equally good.
But again…rebound. I cross my arms over my chest, hoping it looks natural, and take the path that leads back to my hotel, where I plan to put on a bra as quickly as possible.
And then, I’m getting that pastry. I definitely deserve it.
Chapter Four
Knox
“Hey, wait up.”
I look over my shoulder to see my teammate Silas jogging to catch up with me. I stop running and turn to face him.