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“We can take care of him.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Says my sniper brother.”
“Airforce pilot.”
“And a variety of other top-secret roles. You don’t fool us. Twenty years in the military, and all those medals, commendations, and mad respect from your superiors.” Ryan shakes his head in awe.
Magnus lifts his shoulder with modesty. I barely conceal my smile. Something about that interests me, excites me, and not going to lie, attracts me to him even more than I already am.
After a quick goodbye, Magnus returns to inspect the other four cottages.
I follow, my attention on the man walking sure-footedly in front of me, wondering about him, wanting to know more about his history, and his vision for the future of these cabins.
But I’m focused so much on that, I don’t notice until it’s too late when I lean against what turns out to be a rotten window casing and fall through until I’m on the ground outside.
Magnus’s head fills the window opening.
Before I can tell him that I’m fine and that I merely fell onto the sand, he’s by my side, assessing the damage.
“I’m okay. I just fell through the screen. Truly. I’m okay.”
The look he gives could kill a man—or the cottage—if it hurt me in any way.
“Never mind. Forget it. This place is going down.” As if he’d stored up all his anger and frustration in his fist, in one swift motion, he drives it into the side of the cottage’s wall.
I startle, my hands lifting to my mouth.
Breath heaving, he moves to round on it again. This time, when he punches, his entire arm goes through and lodges there.
Scrambling over, I go onto autopilot, assessing the severity of the situation.
“Are you stuck?”
“That was dumb but necessary. And yes, I am stuck. I mean, I could wrench my arm out, but something is poking into the skin just behind my shoulder.”
It’s the same spot where I pressed my palm to his earlier. He’s practically wedged into the battenboard of the cabin.
I go inside to see the damage and what could be keeping him in place.
“After the first strike, I didn’t think I’d punch through the wall.”
Taking a peek through the splintered wood our gazes float together.
“I feel foolish,” he says.
“And snagged by a nail.”
“Thought I felt something sharp poking into me.”
“And rusty. You good on tetanus?”
“Absolutely. Just please get me loose so I can go lick my wounds in privacy.”
This time, I grunt because I’ll get him cleaned up properly. For someone with a weaker stomach, dislodging Magnus from the nail would cause them to rush into the bathroom, but I get him loose with minimal discomfort for either one of us. At least, I hope. He seems like the type to suffer in silence.
Back outside, I slip my fingers into his so he can’t make a quick getaway. “If you need to blow off some steam, by all means, but don’t punch the building until I hear your crazy plans.”
“Never mind. It was dumb. I should go.”
