Almost Just Friends (Wildstone #4)(60)

“Trust me.” He flashed a smile. “You know you want to.”

Hoping she wasn’t going to regret this, she put her hand in his.

He didn’t pull or in any way suggest that he wanted to direct her movements. He was being sweet and gentle. She met his gaze, half touched at his tolerance, half irritated as shit that she was feeling the urge to please him. “I really don’t want to board.”

“Because the last time you were on a boat was so . . . unenjoyable?”

She felt her face heat, but she lifted her chin and hoped he never got a peek at her latest journal entry where she’d listed the ways he’d melted her bones. In great detail. “It was . . . okay.”

He laughed, and the sight was so unusual and so amazing, she stared at him. Damn, he had a really great laugh.

“Just okay, huh?” he finally asked.

She forced a casual shrug. “It was . . . fine.”

He laughed again. And dammit, he was one hot son of a bitch. “I’m going to make you take that back,” he said, voice like sex on a stick.

So much for sweet and gentle.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I’ve got you,” he repeated softly.

Yeah, he kept saying that. And she wanted to believe him, but she was short on trust at the best of times, which this most definitely was not. “Are we going to leave the cove?”

“Only if you want to, but I suggest yes.”

She bit her lower lip.

“Piper.” His voice was terrifyingly kind. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ve got life vests. I’ve pulled one out for you. See?” He lifted one for her perusal. “You can wear it the whole time.”

She gave a jerky nod. “Thanks. But that feels . . . lame.”

“It’s not lame. Not even a little bit.”

“I seriously don’t think I even remember how to swim.”

“You’re not going into the water,” he said.

“You don’t know that. A catastrophe could happen.”

“Such as?”

“A big storm could hit and capsize us,” she said, eyeing the cloudless sky.

“Been there, done that, wrote the training manual on how to keep everyone alive,” he said very seriously.

She stared at him. “I’m not sure if you’re kidding or not.”

“Kidding about the manual, not kidding about keeping people alive.”

“You’ve saved someone from drowning before?”

“Seen a guy do it once or twice.”

She realized how dumb her question had been. “You probably have a lot of stories to tell.”

Instead of answering, he jumped onboard—without letting go of her hand, she noted. Apparently he recognized a flight risk when he saw one. Turning back, he waited for her to join him.

“Can you tell me any of your stories?” she asked.

He looked surprised by her interest. “I can’t give specifics, but there was one time when my unit saved a hundred-plus people who were stranded in cold, frigid waters, and no one had a door to cling to.”

She blinked. “Did you just make a Titanic reference?”

“Yes.”

“There was room for two people on that door, Cam.”

He smiled. “We got everyone back on shore safe and accounted for. Didn’t leave a soul out there, door or not. Does that help?”

“How many times have you done something like that?”

He shrugged.

“So, like, more than . . . ten?”

“Yes.”

“How many more?”

“Too many to count,” he said, still with the laid-back voice, no sense of growing impatience. And she realized he wasn’t putting on an act. This was him: calm, stoic, steady as a rock. Period. He wouldn’t fail her, he wouldn’t abandon her, and he wouldn’t turn his back on her.

“Any more concerns I can help you with?” he asked. “Or can we . . . ?” He gestured to the boat.

“What if you have to make a sharp turn and I fall out? I wasn’t kidding. I’m not a good swimmer.”

To his credit, he didn’t even smile. He just held eye contact and very seriously said, “Luckily for you, I am. I’m good enough for the both of us.”

Right. Okay, then. With no other reason to stall, she tightened her grip on his hand and jumped onboard, gasping as the boat rocked beneath her feet. Cam immediately wrapped her up in a flotation vest and bent his head to give the buckles his full attention.

“In case I’m somehow incapacitated,” he said with a smile.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“I’m taking care of you.”

Something else no one had ever said to her.

Then he pulled her up against him and kissed her. He kissed her until she didn’t remember she was terrified, or that her siblings were driving her crazy. Hell, she didn’t remember her own name and she didn’t care.

He pulled back. “You okay?”

Huh. She actually was. “I think so.”

“You look surprised.”

“It was the kiss. Too bad you can’t bottle them up.”

He laughed and turned to the controls. She stood at his side, and when he hit the throttle, she gasped and clutched at what she had to assume was an Oh, Shit bar.