The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) by Piper Sheldon (e book reader android txt) 📕

“No thanks to me.” Skip held up his hands quickly before tucking them back under his arms. “If it wasn’t for Roxy, who knows where you’d be.”

“Roxy, hey?” He raised a cocky eyebrow.

“We’re lucky I got there in time to help carry you,” I said ignoring Sanders’ ridiculous smile. This one would be called “aglow.”

“You two worry too much. The water was a bit of a shock. We’ve been trained to not react to freezing water.” He glanced to me. “When you experience cold water—the body wants to gasp and flail and that can do more damage. When I got pulled under, I was just trying to stay calm until you guys got me out. I knew you would.”

“You weren’t responding,” I said flatly. How could he be so calm about this? I was getting pissed off. His life wasn’t a toy that could be easily replaced. Did he not understand that? Did he not see how bad he scared his best friend?

“I knew you’d save me,” he said and squeezed my shoulder.

I stiffened and chewed the inside of my lip unable to look at him.

Skip said, “I’m Red Cross certified too. But I was referring to the CPR. Roxy all but knocked me down to get on top of you to start chest compressions.”

I sat very still keeping my breaths even in hopes of stopping a blush from giving me away. “My training must have kicked in. We have to take a course to work in management.”

Of course there was nothing in my CPR training that suggested straddling the victim. I hadn’t been thinking clearly at the moment.

“And then it took two full-grown men to pry her away from you when the EMTs wanted to examine you,” Skip finished oh so helpfully.

“I don’t remember it happening that way,” I mumbled.

But I had been experiencing a sort of tunnel vision in that moment. I had only been focused on making sure he was okay. He was the Lodge’s guest and soon we’d be working together, of course I was concerned for his safety.

“You were yelling at him too,” Skip said.

Had I? I remembered swearing him out in my head. Had I been saying that out loud? That would explain why my throat felt sore.

“Aww, my hero,” Sanders said.

He clasped his hands, pretending to swoon. When he dropped his arms again, his left hand fell briefly onto my thigh. He immediately pulled it back but the damage had been done. All the bubbles dancing in my stomach fizzled through my body, tingling from my breasts to my toes. My mind flashed us back to the club when my body rocked against his and his hand ran up my thigh.

Just like that, the anger I’d been feeling at his complete lack of concern for his health melted into relief. As though the stress of the day was cotton candy left out in the rain, it dissolved around me into a sticky mess of confusing feelings. His thigh pressed up to mine was so warm when he’d been icy cold only a bit ago. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and tell him I was so glad he was okay. And then punch him for scaring us.

I stared at his lap, without really seeing, as the memory replayed in my head.

When I realized where I had inadvertently focused, I shot my gaze up only to find him watching me closely. His face remained neutral, or rather his sort of neutral, which was a half-cocked grin. We were so off track we’d somehow missed Old Friend Town and landed at Awkward Moment Junction. Time to get this conversation back on a more professional track.

Skip cleared his throat and stood up. “I better call the office and see how they’re doing without us. Glad you’re okay, bud.”

“Always,” Sanders replied with a smile.

“Bye, Skip. I’ll call you about dinner tomorrow,” I said.

“Love you, Skippo,” Sanders said.

“Love you too,” Skip said and left.

It was refreshing to see such closeness in two men that didn’t need to be wrapped in bravado. They loved each other and they told each other. There was something sweetly simplistic about it. I felt an ache of jealousy thinking about Gretchen. I still hadn’t spoken to her in a couple days. Even though I thought about texting her a hundred times. But even when we were talking, I don’t know that we ever shared that level of affection. I didn’t really show affection, period. Just thinking the L word made me itchy.

I forced those thoughts away. The whole third of the couch to Sanders’ right was now unoccupied but he didn’t scoot over.

“Is he okay?” I asked after Skip was gone. I couldn’t shake the fact that something was bothering him. “Besides seeing his best friend almost drown,” I added.

“Skippo? He’ll be fine.”

“He mentioned you’d been hurt before?”

“Nothing major. Hazards of the profession.” Somehow I thought it was more than that. “Are you worried about me?” He grinned at me and I glared.

“No.” Yes, you freaking fool.

“You’ve saved me twice today,” he said in a deep, rumbling whisper. “I’m feeling quite emasculated.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

There was something intriguing about Sanders’ cool confidence. I was used to men with big swagger and lots of talk. Tattoos and hairy beards to shout out their manliness. His confidence seemed to glow deep within him like an ember that never went out. Whereas one strong breeze could knock out the ego of most men.

Nothing about Sanders was like the usual masculine energy I was used to. And it was … attractive. Even now I saw the workers at the front desk eyeing him. I glared at them until they got back to work.

“Here I am, the Australian adventurer felled by a stream. I feel silly,” he said.

I held his gaze, remembering how lifeless he looked earlier. The firelight jumped in his eyes. Emotion tightened my throat until I cleared it.

“That shouldn’t make you feel silly,” I said.