If you don’t stop talking to me, you might need to be.
He dug out a Cubitainer and syringe, closing the top of the cooler to keep it cold.
“What are you doing?” She sat back up and was watching with bright, interested eyes. “What’s all that for?”
“I’m sampling for E. coli in the water,” he said, slanting a sideways look at her. Maybe that would get her out. “Among other nasty things.”
“Really.” She didn’t sound concerned. Nor did she seem ready to leap out of the possibly infested water.
“How much longer are you going to be in there?”
“Why? Are you thinking about skinny-dipping? I promise to close my eyes till you get in.” She grinned, and he almost grinned back.
But she was in the middle of his private ecosystem, contaminating it with God knew what—and worst of all, she was far too friendly and chatty.
“I just told you I’m testing for E. coli and you ask if I’m planning to take off my clothes and get in?” he replied.
“Well, since most E. coli isn’t harmful, I figured you were either exaggerating or teasing me.” She shrugged.
He gritted his teeth. Smarty-pants.
“As for how long I’m going to be in here—skinny-dipping partner and potentially deadly bacteria notwithstanding,” she continued, slanting him a look that could only be described as sassy, “I don’t know.”
Her expression dimmed suddenly, as if a bad memory had come to mind. She slid back down into the roiling pool, a wash of desperation and misery erasing her smile. “Until my brain starts working again. Which might be forever. But they say water actually helps the mind work better, so…” She grimaced as the water splashed and roiled against her jaw. “I’ll soak away. Like a human teabag.”
Oscar moved over to the edge of the pool. The heat rose in waves, dampening his skin. Droplets of water splashed up from the churning water, spraying him in the face.
“So are you really testing the water? Is there really a chance there might be the nasty kind of E. coli in it?” She did look a little concerned now.
“I don’t know what’s in it. A natural hot spring is a unique ecosystem unto itself—and this is the only one in Michigan. So who knows what I’ll find. That’s why I’m testing it.”
He hesitated, scoping out the situation. To get a good sample, he should be in the center of the pool, not near the edge, where it was shallow. The water was so enthusiastic that there was no danger of his sample being stagnant. Still, the sample needed to come from the center, where the grit and dirt from the floor wouldn’t be mixed in.
“What’s wrong?” The woman was still watching him from her deep-in-the-water position.
“Nothing. Just trying to figure out the best way to reach the center.”
He was close enough now to see locks of dark brown hair clinging to her cheek and the damp skin of her neck. A few other strands had curled up in the humidity near her temples and the fronts of her ears. A trio of small gold hoops hung from each lobe, and a delicate chain glinted against the damp skin of her throat. She had light skin flushed red from the heat and blue eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm. He put her age at around thirty or so.
“If you don’t want to get in, I can do it for you,” she offered. “But if you were planning to strip, don’t let me stop you.” That glint of ready humor was back in her gaze.
Oscar looked at her, ready to refuse—then decided letting her help wasn’t a bad idea after all. That way he wouldn’t have to zip off his switchbacks and remove his shoes and socks—which would entail taking off the sterile gloves he’d just donned. Which he’d have been thinking about previously if he hadn’t been distracted by her. “You’d have to wear gloves.”
“I think I can handle that.” She sat up and scooted across the pool toward him. He gave her a pair that would be too big for her, but at least would cover her hands.
“Don’t touch the inside of the container,” he instructed her when she was ready. “And put it below the surface about six to eight inches, like so.” He demonstrated by turning the Cubitainer upside down and bringing it straight down. “Fill it all the way up, then empty it out. Do that three times, and the last time, keep it filled. I’ll give you the cap when you’re finished.”
“Why do I have to fill it—and empty it—three times?”
“To make sure every area of the surface is touched by the sample before you actually fill it up.”
“Are you sure you trust me to do this?” She held out her gloved hand for the container. The ends of the fingers flopped loosely.
“I’m beginning to wonder,” he muttered, but let his mouth soften into a little smile. Other than being far too chatty and a definite contaminant, she seemed harmless—relatively intelligent and able to follow directions.
“Well, you could climb in yourself.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a fine job,” he replied, handing her the container a little more abruptly than he intended. But she didn’t drop it. As she turned to swim to the center, he caught a glimpse of a spectacular rear end, nice and curvy, covered in a bright blue swimsuit.
