Page 75 of One Bossy Disaster


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No.

Nope, we’ll blame it on adrenaline and exhaustion.

Finally, he turns around to look at me.

I gesture hopelessly with my paddle in the air.

“Um, a little help? I can’t get out.” I make another half-hearted attempt to stand and fail comically.

Shepherd stares at me for a second before he laughs.

Helaughs—a real belly laugh—and it’s a happy sound that vibrates through me.

Not cruel, either, but warm and understanding.

There goes my heart again as he strides over to where the waves meet the beach.

He grabs the front of my kayak effortlessly and hauls it out of the water.

No sweat.

No big deal.

No small favor with bigger muscle.

Damn, I’ll admit it.

Right now, I am thirsty as hell.

I’ve been ogling him all day and he still hasn’t stopped getting hotter.

“There,” he says when I’m safely on the sand. “Can you get out now?”

I try.

I really do.

But my body simply won’t cooperate.

I guess my legs forgot they’re supposed to be a flesh and bone team, and my arms feel totally disconnected from my shoulders.

“This is so embarrassing,” I say, but he just releases the end of the kayak and steps closer.

“Save it, Destiny. You worked your ass off today and there’s no point in feeling shamed. Even if I’m going to carry you.”

What?

He bends down, and before I can register what’s happening, he does it.

Picks. Me. Up.

As in, I am in his arms right now, damsel in distress style, legs hooked over one arm while his other arm lends back support.

The world spins as I weakly wrap my arms around his neck.

And oh.

Oh.

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