I needed to protect myself.
But why did I need protection? I looked at the bloodstain drying on his shirt. If anything, he needed protection from me.
As if he had read my mind, he shook his head and laughed. He sat my phone on the bench, raised his hand in the air in a non-threatening manner and turned to walk away. Where was he going?
I dove forward and gripped the door handle ready to pull it open, but I stopped as my father’s stern, no-nonsense voice boomed in the back of my head—”Don’t ever let strange men into the house.”
But when in my life would I meet another crazy beautiful man with a British accent that twisted my lady parts into a knot? His hand rested on the railing as he was about to walk down the steps and out of my life forever. I cursed under my breath and prayed that I wouldn’t wind up on the news.
“Wait,” I called to him as I swung open the door. He stopped and turned to look at me. “There’s ice there in the cooler. There, by the chaise.” My voice cracked as our eyes met.
“Thank you,” he said. His steps back toward the house were hesitant. His eyebrow rose as he pointed to the bat in my hands. “Are you planning on hitting me with that?”
His lips tugged into a smirk. It was the most incredible half-lifted-top-lip smirk I had ever seen. And that damn accent. Holy hell it was getting hot in here.
“I didn’t do a good enough job before,” I said and I couldn’t help but smile.
“You are a bit of a nutter, aren’t you?”
“I guess it would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” I wasn’t sure of the exact definition of nutter, but the way it sounded rolling off his tongue and the way his shirt gripped his muscles it didn’t matter what he called me as long as he didn’t leave.
I handed him a towel that I’d left out earlier. “Here’s a peace offering.”
“With a smile like yours, your mental state is forgiven.”
In a bar, that line would’ve earned an eye roll and a sigh, but with his alluring accent, I’d let it slide. His smile widened as he accepted the towel and wrapped the ice from the cooler inside. He pressed it on his forehead and winced, his smile replaced by a scowl. A sexy scowl. Damn, I was so going to need another cold shower
“Thanks,” I stammered and glanced down. My cheeks burned. “I need to get my phone into rice.”
I scooped up my cell from where he’d left it and nearly dropped it with my shaking hands. I turned to head inside but stopped, “Can I get you anything? Maybe something to drink?”
I wasn’t sure what I was doing. He needed to go, but I liked the way he looked me over. Maybe a drink wouldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do. The Fourth of July and all I had planned was screaming at the ocean. A cute guy’s company sounded like a fun, sane option.
“Is it safe? You don’t plan on finishing me off with a poisonous pint, do ya?” he asked.
I was just about to laugh at his comment when he winked and it stopped me short. My breath hitched in my chest. What the hell was it about this guy that made me react like I was in heat?
Take control, Tink.
“You’ll have to decide if you want to take your chances,” I replied with a slightly flirty tone.
“Something tells me to run like bloody hell, but something else tells me to take my chances. I think that might be the head trauma talking.”
I fought a smile. He was charming and witty and I couldn’t help but want to know him better.
He kicked off his sandals and tucked his handkerchief in his back pocket before sitting on the chaise lounge. He held the ice to his nose. His eyes reflected in the moonlight. I knew nothing about this strange man, yet his presence had made me remember how good it felt to smile again.
I took my phone to the kitchen and caught his reflection in the window. He continued to stare at me with a smirk. My insides stalled and hit a free-fall.
I opened up the pantry, and rummaged through the container. The closest thing to rice was quinoa. It was a grain, wasn’t it? I shrugged and dropped the phone in the bag. It was close enough.
Out the window, my stranger remained sitting on the deck with his icepack. At least it gave me a little time to run to my room and scope out my reflection.
My hair was drying into a natural beach wave and I tousled it to add a little volume. I breathed into my hand, then squirted a blob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and quickly scrubbed my teeth. After adding a little mascara on my lashes, I swiped my lips with lip balm. Oh my God. What was I doing?
I didn’t understand how this guy could make me feel so crazy. I didn’t know a single thing about him—not even his name. I was acting like a high school girl with a crush. This wasn’t me. Were an accent and a panty-dropping smirk all it took to ground me?
I was having a horrible night before he came along and tomorrow was going to be a shit day. I had enough to drink and I didn’t give a damn. Tonight, I would allow myself to feel something—anything. For one night. Then, tomorrow he would go back to wherever he was from and I would continue onto my path of hell.
After all, it was a holiday, a day to celebrate independence. It used to be my favorite. Maybe, just maybe, it could be once again.
Chapter 3
One hot Brit and a cold beer coming right up.
Thankfully, I had another six-pack stashed in the back of the fridge. Swallowing my nerves, I tucked it under my arm and limped outside.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he stood up.
“Yeah, I think a crab bit my foot in the water,” I replied and shrugged to downplay it, but my foot hurt like hell.
He reached out, took the bottles and placed them in the cooler.
“You should prop it up,” he said folding a towel on the chaise.
I nodded. I sat and elevated my foot as he opened two of the bottles and handed me one.
“Cheers,” I said and lifted mine with gratitude.
He flinched.
“Really?” I choked out, but I couldn’t blame him after our initial meeting.
“Sorry, it was a bit of a knee-jerk reaction,” he said. “Round one was a bottle to head. Round two was a nut to the nose, and round three, the door smashing. Who knows what round four holds?”
“Nut to the nose?” I asked and fought a grin. “What the hell does that mean?”
“A head butt.”
I laughed, trying to shake the first visual from my mind.
“Yeah, really funny,” he said with a smile. “You injured me three times, then left me to die.”
He raised three fingers, but then laughed. I liked the rich baritone sound.
“You caught me off guard,” I said and took a swig of my beer.
“I caught you off guard? Hell, I didn’t know what hit me. Literally.”
“I’m sorry,” I finally admitted out loud. I shrugged and chewed on the inside of my lip. “This is a private beach. There aren’t people around very often. Or at least not anyone close to my age.”
At least he looked close to my age but something about him seemed more mature. The way he held my eyes when I spoke and