Her nose scrunched. “I think I hit my head on the pier.”
I brushed her hand and hair away to see the swelling goose egg. “You need to get checked out. Let me get you to the doctor, okay?”
She shook her head, her hand hovering above her heart. “No, no doctors.”
She muttered something that sounded like, “My parents will kill me.” She looked too old to care what her parents thought, but with that sweet-as-honey southern accent, I bet she was raised pretty old-fashioned. The opposite of my fend-for-yourself upbringing.
“Do you want to call your boyfriend?”
She grimaced. “Will wouldn’t understand. God, it was silly of me to come here.”
“Who are you here with?”
“My friend Morgan, but she’s out on the WaveRunner…”
We both scanned the coastline, but I didn’t see anyone.
She shrank in on herself, becoming even smaller, if that was possible. She was already fucking tiny, over a head shorter than I was, but rounded in every place I worshipped on a woman. She was…well, damn, she was as perfect in her body as her face.
Her cough dragged my horny mind out of her pants. What the hell was wrong with me? The girl almost drowned five minutes ago. “You need a doctor, just to check you out. I’ve heard too many stories of people who drown hours later from the fluid in their lungs.”
She rested her hand on her chest, her forehead wrinkled like she was thinking, before she nodded. “Okay, I’ll get Morgan’s keys and find an urgent care.”
My mouth dropped. “You’re not going to drive yourself. I’ll take you…” I wanted to pull some Jedi mind shit to get her to say her name.
“Paisley,” she answered. Jackpot. “And I don’t get in cars with strangers.”
I grinned. “I’m Jagger, and since I’ve had my mouth on yours, I’d hardly call us strangers.” A pretty blush crept over her face. She was enchanting. Enchanting? Just start spouting poetry and shit while you’re at it.
“I guess if you were going to kill me, you would have left me to drown, not pulled me to shore.” A devilish gleam sparked in her eyes. “But you did kiss me without consent.” Damn. That smile. Killer.
“I promise, Paisley”—I called her by name just so I could feel it curl around my tongue—“if I kiss you, you’ll know it.” Her smile faltered, and something intangible passed between us. I cleared my throat. “Let’s get you to the doctor.”
“Okay.”
I stood and helped her to her feet. She pulled the towel closer to her. “I need my cover-up.”
“I may have cut it loose while I was pulling you ashore.”
“Oh. Right.” She sighed and led me to her beach spot, then slipped shorts and a T-shirt over those curves. Shame, really. She grabbed her bag. “Ready.”
We crossed the sand wordlessly, washed our feet at the little shower sprayer on the octagon deck, and headed to the parking lot.
I unlocked the passenger door of my Defender and held it open. Paisley tossed her bag inside, sank her teeth into her lower lip, and then looked at me. “I can’t get in here.”
What? “You’re going to the damned doctor.”
She laughed, and I immediately wanted to hear it again. “No, I mean, I physically can’t get up here unless you have a ladder.”
“No problem.” I put my hands on her waist and lifted her in. Do not think about sex. Don’t do it.
Too late.
I slammed her door home, climbed into my side, and had my GPS find the nearest urgent care. “Let’s go, Lucy.”
“You named your car?”
I turned the key, and she purred. “Absolutely. She’s the most dependable woman in my life.” Lucy had been my mother’s last gift to me and the lift kit a to-me-from-me present, my reward for getting the hell away.