Page 30 of Dirty Fighter

So what’s with this full-body, belly-stirring, heart-skipping, mouth-watering meltdown as I stand here, staring open-mouthed at the spot where he just dove under?

I resume my descent, watching for him to break the surface. Walking a little faster as I start scanning a wider radius. Still nothing but a bit of chop punctuating the otherwise dark water.

11

Rowan

“Whoop! Take that, spider babies!”

I jerk around to where Jason is bobbing a ridiculous distance out from the dock and at almost a right angle from where he dove in.

“Jason, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Worried about me, huh?” he calls, pushing his slicked hair from his face.

My arms cross.

Treading water, he watches me.

I can’t tell if it’s a look of amusement or annoyance or some other expression I don’t know him well enough to read. All I know is that he’s okay, and my relief is genuine.

He swims closer, arms pulling through the water with languid ease. And then he’s climbing up the ladder, beads of moisture glistening from the fringe of his lashes, a Superman curl above his brow, as half the lake streams over the bronzed skin of his heavily muscled chest.

Down the stacks of way more abdominal definition than I believed could exist in nature.

And lower through the perfect line of masculine hair disappearing into the white, soaked fabric of his underwear… which is not only dangerously close to transparent in its sodden state, but clinging to— everything.

This guy looks like he just stepped out of a cologne commercial.

Stop. Staring.

I’m going to. Except I can’t because then, completely unconcerned with his might-as-well-be-naked state, he starts to stretch out his shoulders and arms, and geez. What it does to the rest of his chest and abs is… well, spectacular enough to keep my eyes above his— nope, never mind, it’s not.

“Another missed opportunity to take me out of the equation. Rough day, Rowan,” he teases as he collects his abandoned shorts and sneakers.

Forcing my attention to the distant shore and the cloud-studded sky above as he pulls them on, I shake my head with a sigh. “Nah. I was ready to jump in and save you.”

He quirks a brow in my periphery. “Really?”

“Yep.” I start walking up the path. “But don’t get all sentimental about it. Something happens to you, pretty sure I’d be the only suspect. Motive is a thing.”

He matches me step for dripping step. “To get the island, uncontested.”

I laugh. “As if. I’m talking about that stunt with the broken lock, bucko.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, yeah. That’s legit. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’d call it justifiable.”

We’re halfway up the path when I give in to the dark impulse I can’t fight a minute longer. Glancing back, I casually offer, “Did you know some spiders can hold their breath for hours?”

Jason trips.

Day made.

Jason

She’s the devil.

Temptation incarnate with her wicked little cackle and that taunting raised brow. How can one look leave me fighting the urge to chase her down and⁠—