Yep. Right out of one of my fantasies.
Except this was more of a nightmare.
“I’m fine, thanks!” Edged with hysteria, my voice sounded unfamiliar to me.
“You sure?” he asked. “Because it looks like you’ve gone a few rounds with this rhododendron, and I hate to say it, but it doesn’t look like you’re winning.”
With a grimace, I wriggled around, desperately trying to free myself. “I’m sure I can…” The sharp end of a branch just missed stabbing me in the eye, instead hitting right beneath it, drawing a hiss of pain out of me.
The mild amusement on the man’s face morphed into concern. “Here, let me help you.”
He pushed branches aside and maneuvered his way in behindme.
Great. Now he had a full view of my exposed back, including my fraying, totally-not-sexy beige bra. I didn’t even like beige underwear, but this one had come in a pack of two with a cute pink one. Why couldn’t I have worn the pink one? Or any of the other far cuter bras I owned?
Because this was the life of Emersyn Gray, that’s why. Of course I had to meet a superhot guy while half dressed in the most unflattering way possible. The universe, which apparently loved to laugh at me, wouldn’t have it any other way.
“The stegosaurus is cool, but I’ve always been more of an ankylosaurus fan myself,” Mr. Hot-Cowboy-from-My-Dreams said.
It took me a second to realize that he was talking about the bandage on my knee, which, apparently, he’d had a good look at before moving around behind me.
“Why the ankylosaurus?” I was so used to talking dinosaurs with Livy that the question flowed out of me naturally.
“They were built like living tanks.” With surprising gentleness, he freed each lock of my hair from the rhododendron’s evil grip. “Plus, there’s something Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle–ish about them, and I was always a Turtles fan.”
“Huh,” I said with interest. “I can’t say I ever made that connection.”
He held the sleeve of the dress out for me so I could slip my arm into it. Then he zipped up the back.
I suppressed a shiver as his fingers brushed the base of my neck for the briefest and most tantalizing moment. Then I reminded myself that this was a nightmare, not a fantasy. A ridiculous farce of a nightmare, with me the butt of all the jokes.
Speaking of butts, I hoped the open zipper hadn’t been so low that he’d caught a look at mine.
I brushed off said butt and ran my fingers through my tangled hair. I remembered at the last second to reach into the pocket of my discarded jeans and pull out the fake business card.
My rescuer squeezed out of the bushes ahead of me and then held the branches aside so I had a clear path out into the open.
“Thank you,” I said, the words coming out grudgingly, not because I wasn’t grateful, but because embarrassment was still overshadowing every other emotion.
“Anytime,” he said with a grin.
I bit back a groan.
This was totally not fair.
His dark eyes twinkled with humor. Actuallytwinkled! And when he grinned, a killer dimple appeared to one side of his mouth. A mouth that probably knew how to kiss as well as my ultimate dream cowboy.
He cleared his throat, shattering my nascent daydream before it could really get started. And that’s when I realized he’d caught me staring at his mouth. I quickly wiped the back of my hand over my lips, in case any drool had dared to escape.
Get ahold of yourself, woman!I scolded myself silently.
I stood straighter and fluffed up my hair. “Thank you for your help,” I said, this time sounding rigidly polite rather than grudging.
“You know, there are restrooms inside,” he said, his grin now bordering on infuriating. “Nice ones. With plenty of room for changing clothes.”
“Not for people like me.”
I turned on my heel, ready to march away with my head held high, but then remembered that I was currently barefoot. My cheeks flaming, I reached beneath the rhododendron and grabbed my ankle boots, probably giving the guy a clear view of my booty. At least it was fully covered by the dress. Although I needed to becareful not to leantoofar. I had a few inches of height on Jemma, which meant that the skirt of the dress—already short on my friend—was perilously short on me.
