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Out here on the water, away from the rest of the world, his cocky persona and sarcastic quips are dialed way down. There’s a new focus to him, quietly determined, and if I didn’t already find him infuriatingly attractive then…
Well, this is a whole other level of temptation.
He looks over at me, grinning. “Isn’t this cool?”
“Very,” I agree, smiling. I lift the binoculars again to get another look. Dash moves in closer, his breath hot on my cheek as he murmurs, “See? You’ve got the bug now. Just you wait, you’ll be birding in Central Park in no time.”
My body tightens at his nearness. If I turn a fraction of an inch, my lips will be close to his….
So I turn.
Distracted, I fumble with the binoculars. They fall, bouncing on the side of the boat—
And falling into the water.
“No!” I yelp in horror.
His father’s gift!
One look at Dash’s stricken expression, and I don’t even think twice. I kick off my tennis shoes and jump into the murky water with a SPLASH.
I surface, spluttering, in waist-deep water.
“What are you doing?” Dash cries, leaning over the edge of the boat. “Get out of there.”
“It’s fine!” I wince, ignoring the slimy, squishy feeling underfoot. I reach around, trying to find the binoculars. “I’ll get them back.”
“Are you crazy?” Dash looks like he can’t believe this is happening. And neither can I, but now I’m soaked through, there’s no way I’m leaving the binoculars behind.
“It won’t take a sec!” I call, wading a little further from the boat. I peer into the shallow waters, trying to make out the glint of metal in all the murk.
Murk I’m going to choose not to think about right now.
“Callie!” Dash yells. “Get back here right this second.”
“And live with the guilt of losing your prized possession? No thanks!” I call back, still searching.
“I won’t care about the damn binoculars when you get eaten by alligators.” Dash exclaims, and I freeze.
“Alligators?!”
“Big ones. They’re everywhere around here. So get your ass back in the boat before I come over there and drag you.”
Shit.
I quickly skim my feet around, trying to feel for something—
There!
I hit something hard, so I reach down, grasping in the goop until my hand closes around something metal. “Got them!” I pull them out and wave triumphantly.
“Great, now get out of the damn water.” Dash orders impatiently.
“With pleasure.”
I start to wade back to the boat, but my foot gets tangled in something slimy. I tug, but I can’t move. “Dash?” I call, my voice rising in panic. “I’m stuck!”
Oh God, this is how I’m going to meet my maker: Ripped to pieces in some swampy backwater. I struggle, freaking out, but it doesn’t give.
