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That jackass still stood on the beach, although he’d backed away considerably.
I twisted my head toward him. “Do you want to go to jail for attempted murder, dipshit?” I sounded feral, unlike myself. “Get out of here, or I’ll send you to the bottom of the ocean.”
He sprinted away like his ass was on fire. I’d wanted to strangle him, but didn’t want to let go of JoJo. What if I’d gone to bed? Or stayed by the pool?
I shuddered as the image of her flailing against the ocean assaulted me. She was safe. The “what could have been” didn’t matter now.
Her shivering had turned to trembles. Wet hair stuck to her face. And in the moonlight, soaked and scared, she was beautiful.
“Is there a fireplace in that monstrosity, Barn?” I pointed my head back toward the house.
And then I heard it.
A snicker.
From JoJo.
She nodded, but kept stuck to me like glue.
“Let’s get you warm.” I stood, somehow managing to hold on to her.
I trekked through the sand to the boardwalk.
“Wait till they hear about my weekend at the office. They already think I’m full of shit. And when I tell them I moved a barn all by myself, they’ll never believe me.”
She lifted her head and looked up at me with those big green-gold eyes. One corner of her mouth tugged up the slightest fraction. “Youarefull of shit.”
“You wound me. And I can’t even clutch my chest in proper dramatic fashion.”
She settled back against me, her head tucked under my chin. Then she moved one of her hands to my heart and pressed. “There. Happy now?”
Her voice was waterlogged and scratchy. She’d nearly drowned, yet was strong enough to make jokes. Maybe there was more to her than I’d given her credit for.
Her hand slid from my chest, over my shoulder, and back around my neck. I ignored the trail of fire her touch left in its wake.
“Are you going to lecture me when I put our clothes in the dryer?” I hustled up the boardwalk steps.
“Don’t you dare put my dress in there.” She sparked to life for her cause.
“Oh, I am. It’s going in first. And it’s so wet. Think of how long it will take to dry.”
Her fingernails dug into the back of my neck as she growled.
“I really don’t think that little bit of electricity is going to hurt. Have you seen your parents’ house? Every light in the house is on.”
She slowly turned her head to see I was right. Another growl escaped her.
“I appreciate a good cause—”
“No, you don’t.”
I laughed. “Maybe I don’t. But I’m not staying up all night to help you turn off all these lights.”
I opened the back door, not giving one damn that we left a trail of water across the hardwood floors as I carried her to the laundry room.
The house was quiet, though it looked alive.
I deposited her on the dryer, but she still clung to my neck. Her green-gold eyes were haunted, yet her shoulders were straight like she wasn’t going to allow her fear to win.
