Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!
“Everyone calm down,” Thad instructs. “It didn’t go deep. Luckily she’s not great at casting.”
I would be insulted, but alas, my efforts did result in a sharp hook latching itself into a man’s face. Ear. Almost his lip.
“It didn’t go deep,” Davis laughs. “That’s what she said.”
“Really, bro? You’re bleeding out of your skull and you’ve got jokes?”
“I’m hooked by the ear, not bleeding out my ass.”
I catch his barb in time for our eyes to meet while Thad uses pliers to snap the line so he can release his friend, Davis’s eyes widening as he cringes.
“Just pull it out, dude,” he tells his friend.
“I can’t. I might throw up.”
“Thad, just do it.”
“You know how I get around blood.”
“Seriously—I don’t want to sit around with this thing stuck in my ear. Just pull it out, it’ll be fine.”
“Halbrook, remember the time I—”
“Oh my god—I’ll do it.” I caused this mess, I will fix it.
Plus, I’m no stranger to the occasional bleeding appendages—I once took cooking classes at Le Cordon Bleu and you’d be shocked at how many culinary students almost chop their fingers off.
“Are you sure?” Thad asks as I climb carefully to Davis at the front of the boat, he’s still planted in his seat, ramrod straight. “Do you want the first aid kit?”
“Yeah, you should probably look to see if there’s any astringent in there. Maybe a bandage or something?”
Mia springs into action to retrieve it while I crouch in front of Davis to get a good look at his lobe.
I cringe. “I really got you good.”
My ill attempt at a joke is met with another cringe.
“Right. Okay then—I’ll be serious.”
I paste on a serious expression, so that no one thinks I’m too blasé about this, or that I’m not taking this seriously. I quite literally hooked a guy—not the way I wanted to reel one in, but I suppose I’ll take what I can get.
Ha ha, kidding.
Mia hands me the first aid kit and I inspect Davis’s injury without touching it; the last thing I wanna do is hurt him before I start removing it. The skin is tender and raw and bleeding—but not as much blood as I thought there would be. It was hard to tell from where I was sitting how bad this was. Not the worst, thank goodness.
“Okay,” I say. “Hold still.”
“Thanks, I knew that already,” Davis says wryly.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him; he’s in a vulnerable state.
One that I created.
Gingerly, I touch the hook—it’s not all the way in, basically just a few millimeters or so. Nothing life threatening. Nothing he’ll need medical attention for.
Easy peasy.
I brace myself. “This might hurt.”
“It already does,” he says impatiently. “Just yank it out.”
“I’m not going to yank it.” Give me some credit, dude.
“The suspense is killing me more than the pain is,” he informs me. “Do it.”
“Stop pushing, I’ll get to it.”
I swear a bead of sweat forms on my brow, and I pray more beadlettes don’t join in on the party. The last thing I want is to perspire on the poor guy.
Davis sighs. “Any day now.”
And here I thought he was a patient man.
Or maybe that’s just when he doesn’t have tiny knives spearing his body.
“Okay,” I say again, for lack of anything else to say. “Here I go.”
Licking my lips, I brace myself—more so for his sake than for mine; this obviously isn’t going to hurt me in the least.
One.
Two.
Two and a half…
“Fuck!” Davis breathes, cursing for the third time when I lift out the silver hook with a firm tug, blood spilling out and Mia steps in with a swab, already dabbing.
“Shit, sorry for swearing again, but that hurt.”
“It’s fine—I don’t blame you.” I add, “I’m sorry too. I don’t actually know what I’m doing as far as fishing goes and probably shouldn’t have been casting my own line.”
Davis lets out a puff of air. “I survived and now we have a story to tell.”
When Davis smiles—pearly white and beaming—I take a step back, almost falling off the ledge with a gasp as he reaches out to catch my hand and pull me back with lightning speed.
“Still have those mad quick reflexes I see,” Thad laughs. “Damn, bro.” He’s there with an assist, righting me, so I don’t topple ass over tea kettle onto the floor of the boat.
I sit my ass down, parking it in my spot and not moving a muscle. “I’m going to stay here and not move, so I don’t harm or maim anyone else.”
“The entire last ten minutes killed my buzz,” Davis adds, winking at me when we lock eyes again.
Dammit! Stop looking at him!
I can’t help it, he’s right there!
Not to mention—really good-looking.
That’s the first time—and the last time—I’m going to admit that to myself, locking the information away so I can keep my distance and not fall under his spell.