“Help!”
My life jacket jerked me toward the surface. I gasped for air, only to get another mouthful of muddy water. Another wave crashed over my head. This was it. I was a goner for sure.
But then through the spray, I glimpsed Noah’s red kayak cutting through the rapids. Faster than a charging moose. More powerful than a grizzly bear. Able to leap over tall waves in a single oar stroke.
“Grab the rope!” Noah’s steady, deep voice sliced through the roar of the water.
Something slapped against my arm. I clutched the rescue line, and Noah yanked me through the current with smooth, practiced motions. The rough rope burned my palms, but I held on like my life depended on it. Because it did.
Noah guided me to a calm eddy behind a large boulder. His strong hands gripped my life jacket, hauling me up onto his kayak. I sprawled across the bow, coughing up what felt like half the river and possibly a small fish.
“Are you okay?” Noah’s face hovered close to mine. Gone was the grumpy mountain man facade. Instead, his brows furrowed with … what was that … concern?
His hands steadied me. I could feel their warmth, even through the cold, damp wetsuit. “Sam, are you okay?”
I looked up. We were face to face. Eyes locked. Our mouths, our lips mere inches apart. For a wild moment, I considered telling him I needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I must have hit my head on a river boulder and suffered a concussion.
Suddenly, Yeti’s enormous head burst between us, her tongue sweeping across my face.
“Ugh, Yeti!” I sputtered, pushing her furry face away. “I don’t know what tastes worse, fish pee or dog slobber.”
“Based on personal experience, I’m going to have to go with the dog slobber.” Noah’s smile lingered, transforming his face completely. It was like someone had flipped a switch, turning the grumpy mountain man into someone who could model for outdoor magazine covers. “Let’s get you on solid ground.”
Noah paddled us toward the riverbank, a steady hand securing me across the bow of his boat. Diego waited with the recovered tandem kayak. My teeth chattered despite thesummer heat, and my designer “water-resistant” mascara turned me into a raccoon with hypothermia.
Noah steadied the kayak against the rocky shore. “Here, let me help you.” His hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed next to nothing. My legs wobbled as I touched ground, threatening to collapse.
“I’m f-fine,” I stammered, hugging myself for warmth. “Just cold and humiliated.”
Noah unzipped his dry bag and pulled out a frayed but dry towel. “Let’s get you out of that wetsuit.”
My frozen fingers fumbled with the zipper until Noah stepped behind me. “Here.” His breath warmed my neck as he helped peel the clingy neoprene down. I tried not to think about how Noah was literally stripping me out of my clothes, or how his hands moved with careful gentleness.
Noah wrapped the towel around my shoulders. Water dripped from his dark hair, and his wet shirt clung to his chest in a way that made my mouth go dry despite my river-drinking experience.
I looked down at my pruned fingers to distract myself, still trembling from the wet and the cold. “Maybe for the rest of our authentic Colorado adventure series we should stick to things that are less adventurous,” I said. “Like basket weaving. Or extreme napping.”
Just as I was warming up, Yeti trotted over and gave an enthusiastic full-body shake, spraying a fresh wave of river water and wet dog smell.
“Good girl.” Noah patted her head like he had trained the beast to do it on purpose.
“Jenn’s on her way,” Diego called out, pulling the tandem further up the bank. “We’ll drop off the kayaks and then she’ll take you back to the resort.”
Part of me was desperate to get back to civilization. Take along hot shower, savor a ten-course meal at the resort’s gourmet restaurant, then book one of every deluxe massage package down at the spa. And then for the rest of my assignment, maybe Victoria wouldn’t notice if I just lay in bed posting stock photos of mountains with inspirational quotes.
But then another part of me didn’t want to leave. I was cold. I was wet. I was shivering. But I was also surrounded by beautiful mountains. Standing under a brilliant blue sky. Breathing in the fresh air from the trees. And despite almost dying, I felt alive … fulfilled.
Noah had nothing to do with it, of course.
Nothing.
Not a thing.
A cloud of dust announced Jenn’s arrival in an ancient pickup truck, which rattled over the dirt road like it was Noah’s Jeep’s twin. She hopped out, keys jangling against her belt.
“Ready to load up?” She stopped short, eyes darting between my bedraggled state, Noah’s protective hovering, and Diego’s barely concealed grin. “What the hell happened?”
“Sam had an impromptu swimming lesson,” Diego said, throwing the oars into the bed of the truck.
