My head throbs as my body flips upside down. I struggle to get myself turned right side up and blink rapidly to spot Everly’s little legs kicking over to the side of the pool. It feels like I’m going in circles, and panic begins to overtake all my emotions, blocking out the pain I feel on the back of my head.
Finally, my feet find purchase on the bottom of the pool, so I push myself up, reaching toward the top of the water with all my might. Just as my face is finally about to break through to freedom, a dark cloud descends over top of me.
A rush of water sends me flying as bubbles impede my vision. When they clear, two arms wrap around me, yanking me back against a hard body. I look down and notice the hands are planted firmly on both of my breasts as strong legs kick aggressively behind me.
In seconds, I feel sunlight on my face as I break through the water, gasping for air and coughing violently. My stomach roils as the water I swallowed earlier threatens to come back up. One of my breasts sags as it’s released, so I turn around to discover with great horror that it’s Everly’s dad swimming me toward the shallow end of the pool.
“Everly, go inside and get the first-aid kit out of my bathroom!” his deep voice bellows, but it sounds muted because I have water in both of my ears.
He finally reaches the shallow end and stands up, turning to lift me up in both of his arms as he makes his way toward the steps of the pool.
Oh, my God, what is happening? I glance down when my body is lifted out of the water completely. How the hell is this man carrying me out of a pool right now? I’m…not light!
Seconds later, I’m lowered onto a lounge chair, and I look up to see the silhouette of Max Fletcher standing before me in a soaking wet dress shirt, tie, slacks, and shoes. His pink nipples are at full salute in his now see-through shirt, and I am mortified. Which can only explain why I can’t take my eyes off his wet chiseled chest.
I glance down and see my caftan clinging to my curves and discover with great horror that one of my tits has come completely out of my bikini top and is nearly fully exposed through the V-neck of my dress.
“Shit,” I murmur as I unstealthily place my too big for its own good breast back into its cage.
“Can’t you swim?” Mr. Fletcher’s voice growls angrily at me.
“Um…I can do a halfway decent doggy paddle,” I croak, coughing out the last bit of liquid circling my lungs. I swing my legs off the side of the lounger to lean forward, feeling dangerously like I’m about to vomit as I push my hair out of my face.
“Your résumé said you know CPR,” he thunders at me.
“I do know CPR,” I snap at him because he’s yelling at me, and I do not take kindly to being yelled at by a grown man moments after almost dying. “You are aware you can get CPR certified without knowing how to swim, right?”
“What would you have done if my kid started drowning?” His sculpted chest is heaving with rage.
“I don’t know!” I screech, tearing my eyes off his pecs to look into his darkened eyes. “Do you have a big pole?”
His face contorts. “A big pole?”
“I mean a life preserver thingy!” I correct, my brain clearing more now. I stand to gain some leverage, but he still towers over me in his well over six-foot, broad-chested glory. I have never felt small at five foot eight, but Max Fletcher must be pushing six two to make me feel like a child getting scolded at this moment. I puff my chest out to match his, noticing his eyes straying to my breasts for a moment too long before he looks up. “Most lifeguards have life preservers strapped to them so when they jump in to save someone, they don’t have to grope their victim’s tits.”
Mr. Fletcher blanches, his hands turning to fists as his eyes cast downward. He clears his throat, looking mildly less angry now. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to…” He pauses and looks away, giving me a profile view of his chiseled jaw. He has a lot of nerve being so attractive while being a class A dickhole. “I looked up from my desk just as Everly pulled you in, and I didn’t think. I just reacted.”
His face looks tortured, and now I feel bad for being mad at the man trying to save my life. This whole ordeal is probably a fireable offense for this guy.
I cross my arms over my chest and swallow nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t inform you I’m not a strong swimmer. I assumed that Everly being on a swim team meant the odds of me needing to save her were slim to none. But I must inform you that the job application never said I needed lifeguard training.”
Mr. Fletcher pinches the bridge of his nose. “An unforgivable oversight on my part.”
He looks like he’s already made his decision, and I feel horrible. I already unpacked all my shit. And I love that tiny house. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever lived in. My sister is going to lose her shit on me if I come crawling back to her house after one day on the job.
I wiggle my earlobe to drain some water out of it and wince when I feel an ache on the back of my head.
“Shit,” he murmurs under his breath and moves to stand behind me. “Did you hit your head going in? You might be concussed.” He reaches up to inspect my injury, causing me to shiver as the warmth of his body presses against my back. I’m suddenly feeling light-headed for a whole different reason.
“I’m fine,” I croak, catching myself from leaning into his body for comfort. I try to step away, but he annoyingly follows. “I’m not bleeding, am I?”
I reach back to touch the injured area, and his fingers brush over mine as his other hand rests on my waist for purchase. His fingers press into my curves, holding me in place, and I have to swallow my gasp as a current of heat damn near explodes between my legs.
His voice is soft and velvety when he replies, “No open wound that I can see, but you have a decent goose egg.”
I lick my lips and nod. “Your kid is stronger than she looks.”
Mr. Fletcher exhales through his nose. “That was horribly reckless of her. Everly knows better.” His tone is scathing, and I suddenly wish it was directed at me again, not Everly. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t know you were hurt. We should get this looked at. My friend Josh is a doctor in town. I can run you to his private practice clinic.”
“Heavens no, I am fine.” I wipe the water off my face and turn, instantly feeling the loss of his touch while noting the genuine traces of concern in his eyes. I offer up a smile as proof of life. “I grew up on a farm. We’re built of sturdier stuff than most.”
He holds my eyes for a moment, and I swear they shift from that bright ocean blue that Everly’s are, into a cloudy mix of bluish green. Almost indigo. They’re narrow and framed by long, dark lashes that have no business being on a man with lighter hair. I quickly drink in the rest of his face, noting the worry lines that stack on the center of his forehead. His nose has a faint smattering of freckles over it that I never noticed before. Probably because I was too busy staring at the scruff on his square jaw peppered with light, dark, and gray hairs. And those lips. Those full lips look so soft, I have a strange urge to reach out and pinch them to see how they feel.
I swallow the knot in my throat, and my voice is barely a whisper when I croak, “If you need to fire me, I understand.”