LITMIR.BIZ

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evident in those nearly violet eyes…and he was a goner.

      “Trouble? Hell, this ain’t nothing.”

      When he carried in a two by four foot yellow plastic container, her eyes widened. “What do you have in there? A portable operating room?”

      Flipping the black closures open, he raised the lid, wiping the water off the case’s exterior. “As a certified EMT, I’m qualified to help in any emergency.” He shrugged, both proud of his job and embarrassed he’d bragged a little. Sarah waved a dry towel in front of him and he grabbed it to rub the rain off his face and hair. He peeled off his wet t-shirt and dried off before slipping into a t-shirt that proclaimed firemen had longer hoses.

      Sarah ogled his bare chest, read his shirt and laughed as she gathered up the wet rags. “I still say Yvette was a damn fool.”

      “Ancient history, Sarah.” He stooped and fingered through the neatly arranged emergency supplies.

      “So, you really are a fireman and…what was it you said?”

      “A diver with a marine rescue unit out of the best damn fire station in Clearwater.”

      Molly was starting to tremble, no doubt coming down from an adrenaline rush. He removed a blanket from his box to drape around her shoulders. “Take a piece of pie and eat. You need something to bring your glucose levels up.” He glanced in Molly’s eyes. Her pupils were dilated. “Look at me. Double chocolate sin pie okay with you?” She nodded and he slid the dessert in front of her. “Sarah, bring us two more slices in case she needs them.”

      He tore open some sanitary wet wipes to wash off her face. “Let me make sure you don’t need stitches.” Cleaning her banged up cheeks and lips, he tried being gentle, but every time he glanced at her eyes to gauge her pain level, a sensual pull warmed him. A faint floral scent penetrated his nose and beguiled. How long had it been since a woman caught his emotions like this and quickly tied them into knots? He wanted to protect her in the worst kind of way.

      He snapped an ice pack to make it active and told her to hold it to the side of her face where the bastard had struck her.

      “Who…who’s Yvette?” She laid her cheek against the ice pack.

      “Ex-wife for over a year. In a small community like this, even though the tourists make it seem bigger, some people know all about your life. Isn’t that right, Sarah?” Few people could beat the café worker in the gossip department.

      The middle-aged waitress leaned her elbows on the counter. “What we call neighborly concern, you call nosy.” She sniffed and went about filling salt and pepper shakers. “It only means we care. I remember a time when you worried about everyone too. We’re all waiting for the old you to come back.”

      “Scoot around so I can examine where he kicked you. Has the pain lessened any? Pull up your shirt so I can make sure your ribs aren’t broken.”

      “No, I’m fine. I’m not showing any strange man my midriff.”

      “Now here’s something novel. A woman with morals. Hon, I’ll stand right here and watch his every move. He gets out of line, ol’ Sarah will box his ears.”

      Molly slowly pulled up her blouse and he examined her side. “Any pain when I do this?” He pressed in with two fingers.

      “No more than a bad bruise.” Her contusions were bright red and would soon color to deep bruises. He lowered her top. “Now for your foot.” After squatting in front of her, he examined with sure fingers the leg she’d hurt when she’d fallen. Her calf was muscular, but nicely rounded. The kind that would feel good wrapped around his hips, which probably wasn’t the best visual to have while she was hurting. Few women got to him like that without trying. “Any pain?”

      “No. So far so good.”

      Yeah, my freakin’ thoughts exactly. Christ she had some pretty, shapely legs. Curvy. So curvy he’d probably dream about them tonight. “I’m going to remove your sandal so I can see if your ankle’s broken or sprained.” He carefully slipped it off.

      She winced and nearly scooted backward in the booth when his fingers tested the ligaments leading to and holding her ankle joint. “Ouch! That’s a tender spot.”

      “Sorry. I’m thinking it’s a bad sprain, which will require RICE, that’s rest, ice, compression and elevation.” He slung an arm over his thigh. “And I’d say your big toe is broken. I can take you to the ER for x-rays or an MRI, if you like, but there’s nothing they can do for a broken toe. It’ll swell, bruise and hurt like hell for a week.”

      Tears pooled in her eyes. “Great! How am I going to work? Do you think I could wear flip-flops?”

      “You’ll be lucky to walk with crutches. Besides, this foot needs elevation for a couple days at least.” He peeled the cellophane off a rolled ace bandage and began wrapping her foot. “You know, most people come here to relax, enjoy the white sands of our beaches and absorb the sun.”

      “Yeah, well.” She covered her eyes with her fingertips. “Life hasn’t exactly been simple lately. Not one thing has gone right since November twelfth.”

      “Why November twelfth?” The jut of her chin and the tears pooling in her eyes all but shouted she had no freakin’ plan to answer that question. He activated another ice pack and taped it to her ankle and foot. “Scoot over and rest your heel on my seat to elevate it while we have our pie and drinks. He pulled out a pack of aspirin. “Need something for the pain, Sugar?”

      She opened her hand for the pills while she pierced him with tear-filled eyes. “Don’t call me Sugar.” She palmed the aspirins into her mouth and washed them down.

      “Is that what that abusive son of a bitch called you?” His stomach had cramped with temper, banked since childhood yet permanently on simmer beneath the surface to protect anyone bullied or pushed around.

      She shook her head. “No, but it implies that we have a connection, which we don’t.”

      “Has this jerk, your ex-fiancé, always been abusive?”

      “No. Never. Wade’s abuse back in Breckenridge—that’s in Colorado—came as a complete shock. Of course, so did his cheating on me. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to come here, although I thought I saw his dark blue SUV cruising on Gulf Boulevard. The faded paint on the hood makes it distinctive. That and the gun rack.

      “My parents and I have come to this section of Indian Rocks Beach every February for my entire life, so Wade knew where I’d be. I just never expected him to follow me. Guess it was a good thing the little bungalows we always rented were closed, after all. At least he doesn’t know where we’re staying.” She sighed and stirred her tea. “We have a rental car I got at the airport. Thank goodness he doesn’t know what it looks like.”

      “Why did the goon ask for your car keys?”

      “Did he? I was so scared, I don’t remember.” Her forehead crinkled. “Once he attacked me, I went into fright mode. Wait. I did yell for you to help me, didn’t I?”

      He slid his hand across the table until their fingertips touched. He’d have taken her hand in his but sensed, at this moment, she wasn’t ready for that much personal contact. “Yes, you did. You must have seen me running toward you two, yelling for him to stop.”

      Had Wade demanded the keys to her car at home or for her rental? None of it made any sense. “If you have a vehicle, why did you walk to work?”

      “To save on gas money and listen to the waves kissing the shoreline. I took ten minutes to walk out on the beach. Slipped off my shoes to bury my toes in the sand for a spell to watch the sun start to set and witness the oranges and purples. Sunsets here are phenomenal, aren’t they?” There was such sadness in her voice.

      “Beyond that, Molly. Way beyond that. I don’t think anyone could get me to leave here.”

      A

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