Page 78 of Broken Trust
She tilts her head back slightly. Water beads along her eyelashes, and the fading sunlight catches in her blue eyes.
I tighten my grip beneath her thighs to keep her above the surface. Big mistake. Because now I’m painfully aware of exactly how little fabric exists between us.
Jovie’s gaze drops to my mouth.
Then returns to my eyes.
And a different flush colors her cheeks. Not from the cold.
Ah hell.
The silence stretches, and neither of us moves as the river drifts around us and the cottonwoods rustle overhead.
It feels like we’re the only two people left in Wyoming.
I clear my throat. “Still freezing?”
She shakes her head, but her eyes never leave mine.
“Want me to drag you back to the shore?”
A smile appears. “Drag me?”
“Carry you?”
She nods and whispers, “Yes.”
The sound settles somewhere dangerous inside my chest.
I start toward the shore.
Slowly.
Mostly because moving too quickly would require acknowledging the erection pressing into her, growing despite the frigid water.
And I’m trying very hard not to acknowledge that.
Jovie remains attached to me, and neither of us comments on it.
When my feet finally touch the bottom, I stand. Water streams from both of us.
She’s still clinging to me.
Still looking at me.
And for one reckless second, I wonder what would happen if I leaned in.
Just a little.
She must read my thoughts because she closes her eyes and tilts her head forward, but before our lips touch, common sense punches me in the face.
Cabe.
I force my attention toward the shore.
“Cold plunge conquered,” I whisper.
Her eyes flutter open, and I see the disappointment before she schools her expression.
