Page 41 of Catch and Release

Startled, Willa lost her balance right as a wave crashed into her. Normally sure-footed in the water, she felt shock ripple through her as she toppled over, right into the rusted, pointy ends of the chair. She hissed, feeling it cut her legs, and she tried to wiggle her way out, reaching her feet for the ground to steady herself.

She heard a curse and a splash, and as she tried to stand back up in the water, she felt strong arms grab her and lift her out of the Bay.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for startling you,” Shawn said, his eyes wild. “Are you okay?”

He started booking it to shore, careful to keep Willa above the water. Her head was spinning.

“I’m fine,” she said. “You can put me down.”

She kicked her legs a bit, and he gripped her tighter. Her arm rubbed up against his chest, and that’s when she realized he was shirtless. She looked up at him, but his gaze was concentrated ahead. Though his eyes were still frantic, he was honed in on getting her to safety. She sighed in resignation as he carried her up the stairs and into her kitchen, where he gently set her down in a chair and inspected her legs.

She definitely didn’t miss the feeling of his strong arms around her now that he set her down.

Definitely wasn’t thinking about what it felt like for him to pick her up like she was nothing and carry her out of the water with almost alarming ease.

Definitely didn’t wish he’d let her run her fingers along his muscled arms and abs.

Nope, not one bit.

“Not too deep, but these cuts need to be taken care of immediately,” he looked up at her, and she remembered that she’d hurt herself on the rusty chair. “You up to date on your tetanus shot?”

She nodded.

Shawn grabbed another chair and propped her legs up on it.

Willa tried not to think about how his rough fingers felt on her calves,

“Got a first aid kit around here?” he asked.

She stood up to go get it, and he gently pushed her back down, eyes darkening.

“Stay put. Where is it?”

“I can?—”

“Where. Is. It.”

She rolled her eyes. “Above the sink.”

He went into the kitchen and opened the cabinet, returning with some peroxide and cotton balls.

“Shawn, you don’t have to do this,” Willa said. “I’m fine.”

He looked at her, his eyes hardening.

“Don’t.”

A single word never sounded so menacing.

She didn’t say a word as he put peroxide on the cotton balls and dabbed them over the cuts that danced across her calves, her feet, and her thighs. It burned, but not enough for it to be uncomfortable for her. She’d gotten stung by jellyfish in this bay more times than she could count; her pain tolerance was high.

He went back into the kitchen and washed his hands. Then he returned with Neosporin and gently rubbed it over all her wounds. His calloused fingers were remarkably tender as he put it on the cuts on her feet.

Then he lifted her right leg and set her foot on his shoulder so he could better reach the cuts on her upper thigh.

Willa’s breath hitched as he took care of her with such concentrated intent. She felt heat creep up her neck and into her cheeks. He didn’t notice; he just finished her right leg, set the foot on the ground, and moved to her left leg, setting that foot on his shoulder again.

Willa’s imagination ran wild as she imagined what it’d be like for her legs to be draped over his shoulders because of something else.