When August Ends(3)

My pulse was racing. “I wasn’t drowning. I was dancing.”

He gritted his teeth. “Dancing…”

“Yes.”

“For fuck’s sake…” he muttered.

He then turned around and trudged back through the water, headed to land.

I stood in shock, gazing at his large frame as he slogged away. I’d encountered this guy twice and managed to piss him off within seconds each time.

Then it dawned on me: he’d thought I was drowning and ran in to save me. He’d jumped in with his clothes on. Oh my God. I hadn’t been in any real danger, but I still needed to thank him.

“Wait up!” I yelled.

Noah didn’t stop for one second as he continued toward the boathouse.

He’s really mad.

Things were bad between us before this. I’ve really done it now. How was I supposed to know this was going to happen? I’d been doing my water aerobics for months, and no one had ever come around thinking I needed help. In fact, no one had ever come around at all.

When I finally caught up to Noah, he was sitting on the boathouse’s wooden porch. I stopped just short of the front steps.

Brooding and pissed, he’d leaned his back against the house. His broad shoulders rose and fell. His black T-shirt was plastered against his chest. His jeans were also wet, and his feet were bare. He was painfully hot—more so than any guy who’d come around these parts in a very long time. Likely ever. He might have been a little old for me, but that didn’t stop my entire body from buzzing as I took him in. His age—his maturity—was a major turn-on. My reaction to this man was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

He acted as if I wasn’t standing there. I watched as he turned around and reached through the open window to grab something inside the house—a cigar. He rolled it between his fingers before lighting up. I’d never liked cigar smoke, but there was something sexy about the way he held it in his hands. Speaking of his hands, they were big and veiny, powerful—hands that could harm just as easily as they could protect.

He wrapped his lips around the cigar, and the tip glowed as he inhaled.

I continued staring at his hands. Calloused and rough, they had seen their share of work. I sighed. Noah Cavallari was a man in every sense of the word.

He continued to ignore me, and for some reason that made me even more determined to talk to him—probably opposite of the effect he’d intended to have.

Nice try but “no cigar,” Noah.

I cleared my throat. “I’m really sorry about that misunderstanding.”

He took a long puff of the stogie and blew the smoke out. He then whipped his head in my direction so fast it startled me. “Who dances by herself in a lake?”

“It was water aerobics,” I said.

He closed his eyes, then surprised me with a long, hearty laugh; it vibrated throughout my body.

Well, at least he has a sense of humor in there somewhere.

“What were you listening to when I interrupted your little routine?”

“I don’t know,” I lied.

“I think you do.”

“Alright, I do. But I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why not? I’m curious as to what kind of music makes someone flail around like that. Can I listen?”

This day probably couldn’t get any worse. Figuring I owed it to him, I handed him my headphones, bracing for his reaction.

He bent his head back and started to laugh even harder than before.

I’d been listening to “Jump” by Kris Kross.

I snatched the headphones off of his ears. “Happy now?”

“I needed that. Thank you. I haven’t heard that song since I was like…seven. Certainly well before your time.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, well, it’s a good song. It makes me want to—”

“Jump?” He snickered.

I bit my lip, then couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

He held his hands up and offered a snide grin. “No judgment. I swear.”

“I’m glad I could add some humor to your life,” I said. “Clearly, based on your unreasonable reaction to my being in your room the other day, it’s much needed.”

His light expression faded as he looked at me with daggers in his eyes. “I came out of the shower half-naked to find a teenage girl standing there. What other reaction would have been appropriate?”

Teenage girl?

Oh, hell no.

“I’m not a teenager, so you’re wrong there. And the answer is any other reaction besides the one you gave me. It was a misunderstanding, and your snapping at me was unwarranted.” Still miffed, I let out a breath, looking over at the lake and then back at him. “I’m Heather, by the way. We never formally met.”

After a pause, he offered, “Noah.”

Even the way his name rolled off his tongue sounded sexy.

“I know your name…from your reservation. In fact, I ran an entire background check on you, but that didn’t cover personality problems, unfortunately. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Right. Not a murderer, just a prick who overreacts, apparently. They don’t have filters for that.”

I took a few steps forward. “I’m truly sorry about what happened just now. Thank you for coming to save me. If I had really been drowning, that would have been heroic.”