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Carlos paddled so close I had to kick out of the way so he wouldn’t crash into my head. I didn’t need a concussion on top of everything else.
“Molly, are you okay?” He looked appropriately worried, at least.
“I’m freezing, Carlos!” I sounded like my throat had been scraped raw.
“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot! I’m sorry!” Repeating the hasty apology, he reached down to take my hand. He caught hold of me, but tipped the canoe and nearly dumped himself into the lake, too. I slipped back into the water, my worries shifting from my quickly numbing body to how, exactly, I would remedy this situation.
Arnav shouted instructions on how to pull me back into the canoe without capsizing. My breath hitched in my lungs as I boosted myself up while Carlos tried to pull me in. Instead of bringing me into the boat, he only managed to cop a major feel.
“That’s my butt!” I sputtered, scrabbling on the side of the boat.
He let go, and I dropped back into the water. Arnav paddled closer and offered to help me into his canoe, but I couldn’t bear the spectacle of this rescue attempt any longer. Lewis waited on the dock forty feet away—I would swim it.
My life preserver had lived up to its name, but it sucked when it came time to swim. I could barely move my arms, and the vest rose up so high it almost blocked my face. I kicked up a storm, though, and my improvised crawl stroke got me to the dock, where Lewis pulled me out of the waterwithouttouching my butt.
“Are you all right?” Worry sat in the creases around his eyes and in the deep furrow on his forehead. Poor Lewis—another potential for injury and litigation on this trip.
“I’m fine.” I tugged off the life jacket and let it drop onto the dock. My wet clothes clung to my arms and legs, making me as cold out of the water as I’d been in it. Every breeze that played over the lake was like ice skidding over my skin.
A man I assumed worked for the canoe rental place frowned at me as if I might keel over dead. “I don’t have any emergency supplies here.”
Lewis flashed another look of apology. “I’ve got some towels in the coach.”
He dashed up the dock, leaving me a shivering mess. I hugged my arms around my chest. Glancing down, I realized that the shirt I’d chosen for the day had been an excellent choice for breathability but no better than tissue paper when wet. It would have earned high marks for an impromptu Loch Ness wet T-shirt contest, but right now, it just added to the indignity.
I couldn’t catch a win in this country.
The others docked their canoes and climbed out to fuss over me. Duncan hovered close, wearing a grim expression, but he couldn’t do much unless he wanted to trade clothes with me. Harlow complimented my strong swimming, which was gratifying after the struggle it’d taken to get back to the dock. Bea shot a disappointed glare at the clear outline of my bra through my shirt, as though this ensemble had been an intentional fashion statement.
Carlos came up to me with huge, sad eyes, like a puppy who expected to get kicked. “Molly, I am so sorry. I really am. What can I say? I’m an idiot. I only mean to give you a scare. I never thought you’d actually fall in.”
“If I weren’t frozen stiff, I’d deck you right now.” I might have sounded more threatening if I hadn’t wheezed after every other word.
“I’ll do it.”
Duncan’s threat carried much more weight. Putting his Murder Face to good use, he looked every bit ready to slug Carlos. Even if I didn’t actually want him to, his offer warmed me.
Figuratively.
Carlos took Duncan at his word, and moved closer to me like I could protect him. “I’m sorry, I can’t say it enough.”
I could do without standing on the dock freezing cold, but I was fine. It hadn’t been a near-death experience; I wasn’t going into the light. I still kind of wanted to punch him in his stupid, careless face for his prank, but I was fine.
Lewis returned with a single towel and a foil emergency blanket he’d probably pulled from a first aid kit. “This is all I’ve got. You need to get out of your wet clothes. The lake is only about fifteen degrees Celsius. We need to warm you up as quick as possible.”
I looked around, but the dock didn’t even boast a port-a-potty, much less a restroom. Oh, this would be fun.
Harlow helped me drape the emergency blanket around my shoulders so I could strip out of my shirt and bra, while the others tried to look busy. Arnav brought my fleece jacket from the bottom of my canoe, and I zipped into it. I moved my makeshift privacy screen down and shimmied out of my soaked pants, wrapping both the towel and emergency blanket around my lower half.
At least I’d worn my sneakers on the boat instead of my hiking boots—those would have taken an age to dry out. The sneakers had turned into blocks of ice on my feet, but they would be fine to wear again in a day or two.
I collected my wet clothes into a messy bundle, keeping my bra and panties at the center of the ball of shame. I patted my phone, still in the dry bag in my fleece’s pocket, and finally remembered what I’d been doing when I fell into the lake.
I sucked in a breath as nausea unfurled in my stomach. Lost. I’d lost it, all for the sake of a few pictures of birds and a stupid joke.
“Idiot,” I seethed. I wasn’t sure if I was angrier with Carlos or myself.
“What is it?” Duncan asked. He hadn’t left my side since he’d climbed up on the dock.
