“I haven’t spoken to her in days. You understand my concern.”
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“No, I just—”
“I didn’t kidnap her,” I snap, irritation rising. “She’s an adult. She can make her own choices.”
“We all make our own choices.” Somehow, over the phone, Douglas sounds older. Exhausted, really. “How does Sal’s old place look?”
My thin thread of patience snaps. “Fuck you.”
I hang up, fingers clenched tightly around my phone. Jerking my hand through my sweaty hair, I kick a nearby rock. It skittersto the edge of the dock, a mere centimeter away from falling into the water. I finish the job, watching as it sinks beneath the surface.
As I turn to go back inside, I notice movement out on the docks. A woman wearing a hot pink dress and heels high enough to break an ankle if she falls, her golden hair swaying in the breeze. She has big, ritzy sunglasses perched on her nose.
Poppy.
My chest tightens. I can’t help myself; I laugh. She’s as out of place here as she was in that dive bar, drinking whisky even though she hated it and worming her way into my half-baked plans. I take a few steps forward, watching as she leans over to peer at something in the water.
As I stare, she wobbles—and falls into the lagoon.
Goddamnit.
I guess I could use a swim.
Chapter 7
Alligator Bites
Poppy
I’ve been in Florida less than a day and I’m about to die via bloody alligator death.
I can see the news headline now:Disgraced Influencer Dead in Freak Alligator Accident.
I flail for the surface. Why did I wear this dress? Theseshoes? My leg brushes against something rough, and I shriek, snorting water, bracing for the moment I’m torn in half.
Instead, something thick and muscular wraps around my waist. My heart, already racing, nearly jumps out of my chest. I wriggle in its grasp. What the hell is it? A water python? A giant octopus? I refuse to be strangled to death by asquid.
I slam my heel behind me and hear a decidedly human-like grunt. Before I can escape, I’m dragged to the surface and onto the dock. I turn my head to the side, coughing up seawater. By some miracle, my Dior sunglasses are still on my face.
My savior splays over me, chest heaving in time with mine.
Green eyes. Tattoos.Jack.
We stare at each other, breath slowing. Water drips from his nose onto my throat.
His face tightens. “Poppy?”
Despite the sunshine, I’m shivering. I push up the sunglasses. “Hi?”
His dark expression doesn’t change. Neither does his position. He feels as warm as a furnace where he’s pinning me to the dock, which is nice, but I might die of suffocation. I count the drips of water dotting my throat. Five now. Six. He looks close to strangling me. “Stop—crushing—me.”
He springs away. I sit up, shaking out my thankfully intact limbs. I had visions of bloody legs and chewed-off fingers, but apparently, we made it out without a scratch. Not exactly how I anticipated running into Jack again, but I’ll take it. I raise an eyebrow, and he reluctantly holds out a hand to help me to my feet. My fingers tingle where he’s touching.
I peer at the blue-green water, sparkling under the sunlight. “Did you see the alligator?”
“A gator? You sure you weren’t looking at your reflection?”
