“I could help you. I found my best friend Brooklyn a boyfriend.”
“Well, aren’t you a little matchmaker.”
She nods and frowns down at my dress. “Do you have a swimsuit on under that?”
“Yes, why?” I ask, clutching my chest self-consciously, worried my tits are hanging out or something, and I’m scandalizing my new charge.
“Because…it’s time to swim!” Everly squeals and grabs my legs. She presses her feet to the sides of the pool, and before I can brace myself for what I realize she’s about to do, she yanks me straight into the water.
My fingers grasp at air as I try to reach out and catch myself. The blue sky fills my vision as a sharp pain strikes the back of my head. I cry out the moment I’m enveloped by the water and stupidly inhale a large gulp of water to a place that water is not supposed to be in my body. I try to cough it out, which is obviously a bad idea when you’re…under water.
My head throbs as my body flips upside down. I struggle to get myself turned right side up and blink rapidly to spot Everly’s little legs kicking over to the side of the pool. It feels like I’m going in circles, and panic begins to overtake all my emotions, blocking out the pain I feel on the back of my head.
Finally, my feet find purchase on the bottom of the pool, so I push myself up, reaching toward the top of the water with all my might. Just as my face is finally about to break through to freedom, a dark cloud descends over top of me.
A rush of water sends me flying as bubbles impede my vision. When they clear, two arms wrap around me, yanking me back against a hard body. I look down and notice the hands are planted firmly on both of my breasts as strong legs kick aggressively behind me.
In seconds, I feel sunlight on my face as I break through the water, gasping for air and coughing violently. My stomach roils as the water I swallowed earlier threatens to come back up. One of my breasts sags as it’s released, so I turn around to discover with great horror that it’s Everly’s dad swimming me toward the shallow end of the pool.
“Everly, go inside and get the first-aid kit out of my bathroom!” his deep voice bellows, but it sounds muted because I have water in both of my ears.
He finally reaches the shallow end and stands up, turning to lift me up in both of his arms as he makes his way toward the steps of the pool.
Oh, my God, what is happening? I glance down when my body is lifted out of the water completely. How the hell is this man carrying me out of a pool right now? I’m…not light!
Seconds later, I’m lowered onto a lounge chair, and I look up to see the silhouette of Max Fletcher standing before me in a soaking wet dress shirt, tie, slacks, and shoes. His pink nipples are at full salute in his now see-through shirt, and I am mortified. Which can only explain why I can’t take my eyes off his wet chiseled chest.
I glance down and see my caftan clinging to my curves and discover with great horror that one of my tits has come completely out of my bikini top and is nearly fully exposed through the V-neck of my dress.
“Shit,” I murmur as I unstealthily place my too big for its own good breast back into its cage.
“Can’t you swim?” Mr. Fletcher’s voice growls angrily at me.
“Um…I can do a halfway decent doggy paddle,” I croak, coughing out the last bit of liquid circling my lungs. I swing my legs off the side of the lounger to lean forward, feeling dangerously like I’m about to vomit as I push my hair out of my face.
“Your résumé said you know CPR,” he thunders at me.
“I do know CPR,” I snap at him because he’s yelling at me, and I do not take kindly to being yelled at by a grown man moments after almost dying. “You are aware you can get CPR certified without knowing how to swim, right?”
“What would you have done if my kid started drowning?” His sculpted chest is heaving with rage.
“I don’t know!” I screech, tearing my eyes off his pecs to look into his darkened eyes. “Do you have a big pole?”
His face contorts. “A big pole?”
“I mean a life preserver thingy!” I correct, my brain clearing more now. I stand to gain some leverage, but he still towers over me in his well over six-foot, broad-chested glory. I have never felt small at five foot eight, but Max Fletcher must be pushing six two to make me feel like a child getting scolded at this moment. I puff my chest out to match his, noticing his eyes straying to my breasts for a moment too long before he looks up. “Most lifeguards have life preservers strapped to them so when they jump in to save someone, they don’t have to grope their victim’s tits.”