1
Abby stirred at the unmistakable pressure of a man’s mouth on hers, coaxing, tantalizing. The kind of yearning she’d buried for years awakened with a vengeance. Whether this was a dream or reality hardly seemed to matter as her breath caught and her pulse raced. It had been so long since she’d felt like this.
She sighed when the man drew back, then slowly opened her eyes to find a soaking wet, bare-chested, incredibly gorgeous stranger kneeling in the sand beside her, his expression every bit as startled as her own must have been.
“Looks like you’re going to be okay,” he said, a hitch in his voice and a surprising hint of color in his sexily stubbled cheeks.
“Okay?” she echoed, bemused. There had been nothing wrong about the past couple of minutes. They’d been enchanted, in fact. Spectacular, even. Definitely well beyond okay.
“I pulled you out of the water just now,” he reminded her, worry darkening his blue eyes. “You don’t remember going under? Calling out for help?”
Suddenly the panic came rushing back, the sensation of water closing over her head, her feet unable to touch the sandy bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. One second she’d been standing in waist-deep water, the next a wave had caught her and the floor of the Gulf had fallen away.
Memories of another near drowning right here in these waters years ago had arisen, right along with a bubble of hysteria. Then the memories had faded and a harsh present-day reality had set in. She’d been fighting her way to the surface, gasping for air, screaming for help. She’d choked on water before going under again and again.
“I was drowning, just like before,” she whispered, shaking, the potent effect of what she’d thought to be a kiss vanishing. He’d been doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, she realized, embarrassed that she’d thought otherwise, wondering if she had, in fact, tried to kiss him. She had an awful feeling that she had. A very powerful memory of tongues tangling in a shockingly sensual way tugged at her. Humiliated, she knew her cheeks must be flaming.
Years ago in a similar situation, Luke Stevens had been close by. He’d saved her, become her hero. They’d been inseparable after that along with her best friend, Hannah, but she and Luke had been a couple, right up until the day they’d left for college and gone their separate ways. Though they’d both claimed to be brokenhearted, they’d been resolute about not standing in the way of each other’s hopes and dreams—his to be a doctor, hers to be something. She’d wanted to excel at anything that would get her away from this dead-end island life.
As immature as they’d been, somehow they’d known they weren’t meant to last forever. And while she and Luke had deliberately separated, she and Hannah had simply drifted apart.
It was ironic really that now, after so much time had passed, all three of them were back on Seaview Key. Now, though, Luke and Hannah were married and Abby was the third wheel...or would be if she reached out to them. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be cast in the role that she’d forced Hannah into back then. Life had taught her that being witness to someone else’s happiness could be incredibly painful.
Besides, for the moment she was content just to be on her own, getting her feet back under her. Not that this morning had turned out to be a very good start on that front, she thought with a touch of the wry humor she counted on to get her through tough times. For a woman who’d been swimming since before she could walk, she was surprisingly inept in the water, apparently.
The man kneeling next to her was still studying her with concern. “Maybe we should get you over to the clinic, have you checked out,” he said. “You seem to be a little fuzzy about what happened.”
Abby shook her head, fully aware that going to the clinic meant seeing Luke again under awkward circumstances. “No, really. I’m fine. Just a little dazed, I think. That will pass.”
“You swallowed a lot of water.”
“And surely coughed up most of it,” she recalled, embarrassed yet again by the pitiful spectacle she must have made of herself.
“I’d feel better if Doc Stevens took a look at you. My car’s right up there on the road. I can have you there in a couple of minutes.”
“Seriously, no,” she said more forcefully. This wasn’t the way she wanted to see Luke again, bedraggled and half-drowned. Maybe he hadn’t been put off by that twenty-some years ago, but she still had a little pride left. She wanted to look her best when she finally crossed paths with Luke and Hannah. She needed them to know that coming home had been a choice, not a necessity.
“I live right over there,” she said, gesturing toward the house where she’d grown up.
The sad sight was almost as much of a mess as she was—the yard overgrown with weeds and the house itself in desperate need of a lot of tender loving care. While she’d been planning her return for a while and had made several quick trips to the island, she’d only been physically back to stay in Seaview Key for a few days. So far she’d tackled the dust and cleaning inside to make the house habitable again. She’d get to the rest eventually. For reasons not entirely clear to her, she was determined to do the work herself. Maybe she simply needed to get back to basics, remind herself of how little some of the luxuries she’d gotten used to really mattered.
The man stood up and held out his hand to help her up. “Then I’ll make sure you get to the house okay. I can check you out myself, take your pulse, listen to your lungs. I have a medical kit in my car.”
Abby regarded him skeptically. Since when had Seaview Key required two physicians to keep up with the small population of locals? “You’re a doctor, too?” she inquired doubtfully.
“Paramedic,” he corrected. “I’m Seth Landry. I worked with Doc Stevens in Iraq. After my discharge, I came here for a visit. He told me the town could use a volunteer rescue squad. He got me hired to organize it.” He grinned at her. “See, I’m totally respectable. I’m not just trying to get my hands on you.”
Too bad, Abby thought to herself. For a few minutes there, she’d actually felt desirable again, not like the pale shadow of the woman she’d once been before her marriage had sucked the life out of her.
Seth slowed his steps to match hers as they walked across the sand and up the path to her house. At the bottom of the porch steps, worn smooth by decades of sandy feet, she stopped and lifted her gaze to his, noting with delight that though she was tall at five-ten, he was taller, at least six-one or -two.
“See?” she said lightly. “Perfectly steady. Thanks for rescuing me.”
“All in a day’s work,” he told her. “But if you’re from around here, you should already know how the bottom out there drops away unexpectedly. If you’re not a strong swimmer, stay closer to shore. Stick to wading, even.”
“You’re absolutely right. It won’t happen again,” she assured him. In fact, she shuddered just thinking about how differently her morning and that innocent dip she’d taken in the Gulf could have turned out.
“I’ll see you around, then,” he said, giving her a casual wave before jogging off down the beach.
Abby watched him go, admiring the well-muscled shoulders, the narrow hips, the long legs. He was younger, too, if she was any judge of age. That made that flicker of awareness that had passed between
