I gasped. A deep gash went through my bottom lip and to my chin. A bluish-purple bruise began to form around it. Blood oozed out and dribbled down my face and hit the top of my cleavage. “Are you sure I don’t need stitches? Fuck.” I wiped the blood from my chest and placed the paper towel back over the gash.
He came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure. It was close though, any deeper and you’d have had no choice but to get stitches.”
I instinctively leaned into his touch. “My tooth hurts.”
“I’m sorry.” His deep voice rumbled around me like a comforting sound of thunder. “I should’ve noticed the dumbass would draw back like that.”
“Yeah, well. No worries.” I shook my head. I glanced up at him, and the question that had been burning in the back of my mind fell out. “Where’s Delilah, by the way?”
His hand left my shoulder, and a disappointed sigh escaped me. “She went home.”
My brows bumped together. “Why?”
He ran a hand over his face. “She had feelings for me. I didn’t feel the same. We parted ways.”
My heart fluttered at his confession, but I knew it had nothing to do with me. Luca was just like that. He didn’t get attached, and I felt bad for any woman on the other side of that. “Oh.”
“Are you feeling any better?”
“I feel like shit still but better than five minutes ago.” I hesitated. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Well, I’m qualified for accidents like this.” He rubbed the nape of his neck.
“Can you take me back to the resort? I don’t want to hang around.” My lips parted as I readjusted the paper towel.
“Of course, Mags. Let’s get you back to rest. Dinner’s not until five.” He checked his watch.
Surely, Faith wouldn’t mind if I skipped dinner after the brutal attack of the golf club?
Day One
2:30 PM - 3:30 PM - Unplanned Free Time
The ride on the boat back to the island was silent. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the tension or the pain she must be in. I had a difficult time not punching the fucker. He should’ve paid attention to his surroundings.
“We’re here,” Tom, the ferryman, said. He had the whitest hair peeking from under the battered navy-blue hat. He must’ve been in his sixties and was probably the nicest person I’d met here yet.
“Thanks, Tom.” Mags nodded her head to him, holding a bloody paper towel to her lip.
“You sure you don’t need to head to the hospital?” A southern twang that reminded me of home accompanied his words.
She nodded and thrust her thumb in my direction. “This guy’s an ER nurse. He told me I was fine, and I’m inclined to believe him.”
Tom shrugged and gave me a slap on the back. “Take care of this girl, son.”
I grinned. “I fully intend to, sir.”
Mags rolled her eyes as I helped her off the boat. Our feet sunk into the sand as we hopped off and waved goodbye to the old man.
Waves crashed over the golden sand, spreading the foam on the beach. The ocean wind blew, tumbling Mags’ tousled blonde hair behind her. The bloody towel was barely noticeable in contrast to her sun-kissed skin and beautiful hair.
“Luca?” She waved a hand in front of my face.
I blinked. “Yeah?”
“Does it look that bad?”
I shook my head. “No. It really doesn’t. I do think we should get an ice pack though. Head on up to your room. I’ll meet you there.”
