fist pump as I take a fast look at the ocean, then spin back around to see some guy waving at me. I poke my finger into my chest and cast a slow glance over my left shoulder.
Really, Alyson? Who else could he be pointing to? A gorgeous mermaid rising from the abyss, perhaps?
Okay, now who’s the dumbass?
Wind whips my hair over my face, and I push it back as the guy hops on the rocks, hurrying toward me. Dressed in a short-sleeved plaid shirt, jeans, and boots, he’s cute in an outdoorsy, rugged fisherman kind of way. Hey, maybe this place is a pickup joint for the local lobster crew. Now I’m sort of glad I’m in my heels and mid-thigh skirt. Although men are not on my radar, not right now anyway. I have a point to prove to my family—and myself. A relationship of any kind will only distract me from my goals.
Wait, what is he saying to me?
I put my hand up to my ear and cup it. “I can’t hear you.”
He comes closer, and for a second, I’m a bit breathless, but it has nothing to do with the wind stealing the air from my lungs. The guy is smoking hot. He closes the gap between us, and I catch his scowl as his whiskey-brown eyes narrow in on me. Pissed off much? Well, alrighty then. I guess this isn’t a local pickup spot. Even if it were, that’s not why this guy has his sights set on me.
Wait, he doesn’t think…
Oh, crap.
“I’m fine,” I say. “It’s not what you think.”
“You can’t be down here.” He hovers over me, his big body crowding mine. “Goddamn tourists,” he mumbles. “You’re all the same.”
I glare at him. “Jeez, are all Nova Scotians this bad-tempered and quick to jump to conclusions?”
“When tourists put themselves at risk, yeah.”
He reaches for me, and the fast, jerky movement of his hand takes me by surprise. I flinch backward, and my heel slips on the wet rock. I windmill my arms and try to regain my balance.
Dear God, this can’t be happening.
“Oh, shit,” he says, the anger in his tone changing to panic as I manage to grab his outstretched hand, tugging him off balance with me.
Oh shit is right.
I gasp, and before I know what’s happening, my legs go out from underneath me. I land on the rock with an undignifited thump and slide straight into the ice-cold ocean, two hundred pounds of muscle tumbling in on top of me. Frigid water seeps into my clothes, under my skin, into my bones, and I kick and scream and struggle to reach the surface. But with this guy weighing me down, I might as well be wearing cement boots. A strong arm wraps around me and tugs me upward. I suck in a fast breath when we break the rough surface.
“Are you okay?” the guy asks.
I spit water, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. “Of course I’m not okay. Are you okay?” Despite what I know about the slippery rocks, my first instinct is to push away from him and swim toward the embankment. Using my fingernails, I claw the eel grass covering the rocks, but the action proves futile. A powerful wave hits me and tosses me against the unforgiving boulder. Lord, I hope that cracking sound wasn’t my rib. I have no time to think about how much pain I’m in, as a new kind of fear takes hold.
I’m going to freaking die out here.
“Come here,” the guy says and drags me from the edge. With my back against his chest, holding me like a lifeguard rescuing a petulant child, he swims farther and farther out to sea, dragging me along for the ride.
“What are you doing?” I kick and try to get away, but he’s too damn strong.
“I’m trying to help.” He loosens his hold, and I spin to face him. I tread water and kick my legs hard. I’m sure I resemble a bobblehead, and my erratic movements are going to attract all kinds of curious sea life. This is so not my finest moment in life. Wait, are there sharks out here?
“Easy, lady. You’re going to drown us both.”
“The name is Alyson,” I blurt out, even though my name is the single most unimportant thing at the moment.
“Alyson, listen to me. There’s a fishing boat over there.” Water drips from his hair, as his dark eyes seek mine and lock on. “We’re going to swim to it,” he says,