he banged his head into it.
Muttering and hoping like hell he wouldn’t have a nasty goose egg later, he yanked on the thing. Painted shut, or rusted, most likely. It gave way with a groan a moment later, even though he had to smack at the transom a few times to get the thing open.
“Got it,” he announced when the blasted thing had swung open as far it would go.
“Well, be careful,” Olivia warned him. “Maybe you should just yell for someone instead of climbing through it.”
Like hell. Any minute his bladder was going to explode, and that was hardly the way to entice a woman to give you a whirl.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, twisting on the ladder and hanging onto the bottom edge of the window for dear life as he angled his first leg up and through it. A contortionist he was not, and he was already fairly certain the situation was going to require a bit more flexibility than he could lay claim to.
So it wasn’t going to be easy, or graceful. It wasn’t as if Olivia could see him, as he was blocking most of the dim light coming through the open window.
And that was truly a saving grace he realized a few minutes later, when he’d finally stuffed both legs through the window and wriggled backward in an attempt to slide through.
Because he was stuck. Again.
“Olivia.”
“Yes?”
He heard her foot hit the bottom rung of the ladder. “Love, I think it’s time you rescued me.”
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