Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(3)


She gasps and sits upright, sending the zippered baggie on her stomach flying, along with the hot pink travel bottle. The paddleboard tips. I grab for her to keep her from being dumped into the water along with her things, but it backfires when she latches onto me and pulls me in.

I release her right away, but she clings to me, grabbing my shoulders, kicking and flailing, almost nailing me in the groin. I grip the edge of the dock to prevent her from pulling me down, and we both pop up at the same time.

Her face is inches from mine, and despite her shocked expression, she’s gorgeous. Her sunglasses are no longer covering her eyes, which are a stunning gray ringed in navy. Freckles dot the bridge of her nose, and she has full lips. Her face is heart-shaped, and her long, chestnut hair floats on the surface of the water, swirling around her arms.

“Holy shit!” She clutches my shoulders and looks around. “What the fuck? Who are you? Where am I?”

“I’m Maverick, currently your buoy and possible knight in a wet bathing suit. As for where, you’re in Pearl Lake. I think you must have fallen asleep on your paddleboard.” I nod toward the board, which is now floating about fifteen feet away from us, but slowly heading back our direction. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Pearl Lake? Oh crap!” She lets go of my shoulder and swims over to retrieve her paddleboard. While she does that, I grab the water bottle bumping the edge of the dock and the zippered baggie that contains a book. I think the sunglasses are probably a new addition to the bottom of the lake. I toss the items on the dock and swim over to help her with the paddleboard.

“Why don’t you come on up and get your bearings?” I suggest.

She glances around. Two docks over there are a bunch of people still swimming. And several more are dotted with people drying off. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

I clip the paddleboard to the ladder and motion for her to go first. I try not to ogle her as she steps out of the water, shaking her head back and forth and twisting her hair around her hand, pulling it over her shoulder. But damn, she’s smokin’. She’s all curves and hips and long legs. Soft around the edges in the most appealing way.

I look up at the sky and mouth thank you as I follow her up onto the dock.

She runs her hands through her hair and then crosses and uncrosses her arms like she doesn’t quite know what to do with them. And then she looks down at herself. Her hands go to her stomach. “Oh fuck me. I’m so burned! How am I going to get rid of this?” In the center of her stomach is a very obvious book-shaped tan line.

I bite my bottom lip and try not to laugh, but her expression is priceless. “I guess no crop tops for you this weekend, huh?”

“I’m too old for crop tops.” Her gaze meets mine and then drops, moving over me on a slow sweep. “I just pulled you into the water, didn’t I?”

“I was planning to go for a dip anyway.” I grab the towel from the back of my chair and pass it to her.

“Getting dragged into the water and willingly jumping in aren’t quite the same.” She drapes the towel over her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I think you introduced yourself, but I missed it because I was panic-flailing. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” Her gaze roves over me again. “You don’t look hurt, but you do look like you could do a lot of damage in a fight.”

I grin. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

She drops her head, hiding her smile. “If you want to, sure.” She peeks up at me again. “Do you know what time it is? I have no idea how long I’ve been floating.”

“It’s closing in on five thirty, last time I checked.”

Her eyes go wide. “No. You can’t be serious.”

I hold out my arm with my smart watch and tap the face so it lights up. “It’s five thirty-eight.”

“I’ve been floating for nearly six hours. I don’t understand how I got here. I don’t even know what side of the lake here is.”

Pearl Lake is a lot smaller than Lake Geneva, but it’s still a lot of water to cover on a paddleboard. “You’re on the north side.”

“The north side? Yeesh.”

“Where’s your cottage?”

“In Pearl Bay, on the south side of the lake.”

“You wanna use my phone to call someone? A boyfriend maybe?” I’m totally fishing.

“That was subtle.” She arches a brow and gives me a wry grin. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s excellent news. I don’t have a girlfriend, in case you were wondering. And my name is Maverick.” I extend my hand.

She blinks. “Maverick? Is that a nickname or a given name?”

“Given. And surprisingly, my parents aren’t hippies.”

“Did your mom like Top Gun or something?” She slips her hand into my palm.

I watch as goose bumps rise along both of our arms. “Actually yeah, she did. At least until Tom Cruise sort of . . . went out of style.” I reluctantly release her hand.

“Ah, well, that’s fair. I’m Clover.” She dips her head, and if her cheeks weren’t already pink with too much sun, I’d guess she was blushing. “And my parents were absolutely hippies. Please don’t make a joke about four leaves and being lucky.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Clover-without-a-boyfriend.”

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