Chapter 12
Willa felt like she had been crawling out of her skin ever since she asked Shawn if he wanted to sleep with her a few days ago.
It was mostly the guilt that was killing her—that she’d so thoughtlessly asked him to give her a good time barely 24 hours after he’d told her tourists used him so thoroughly that he no longer felt comfortable in his own store some days. But it was also the knowledge that it wasn’t going to happen and she had to find some other outlet to get orgasms.
Oh, and the pesky little fact that she’d been rejected.
Not a fun feeling.
Not a feeling she was familiar with at all, actually.
And it was made worse by the fact that her vibrator wasn’t cutting it. Especially since she and Shawn had fallen into a steady rhythm of fishing off the wharf together in the evenings and he always showed up looking delicious.
Like last night, when he wore gray sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretched perfectly over his shoulders. God, she wanted to lick his biceps. She wanted to lick a lot of things, especially now that she’d seen him in those sweatpants that left little to the imagination.
Willa shook her head.
Stop it,she told herself.
She was walking up and down the wharf with the cast net in hand, looking for schools of mullet to catch. When she’d woken up this morning and saw the sun shining, the waves falling at the perfect cadence, and fish jumping from the kitchen window, she knew it would be a great day to throw the net.
Plus, since she was a kid, the steady cadence of tossing it out and pulling it back in calmed her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something in the water. It didn’t look like a fish—it was stagnant, unmoving.
It wasn’t uncommon to see odds and ends in the water on occasion. The hurricanes that rampaged this part of the world made sure of that. Sometimes wood from people’s wharves across the Bay would wash up on their shore weeks later. Sometimes they found jewelry. And sometimes, more dangerous things washed up—scraps of metal or nails.
Typically, the community got together after hurricanes and did their best to clean up the water, but her grandparents had taught her to be cautious and keep her eye out.
Suddenly a big wave broke through and the dip of it left room for the item to sit out of the water for a moment—long enough for Willa to realize what it was: a metal chair. It was damaged and covered in barnacles, with shards of metal sticking out where the feet used to be.
A hazard if there ever was one. On days where the water wasn’t clear, somebody could trip over that while swimming. The water was shallow here; even at the end of the wharf, the deepest it’d get was three or four feet. Plus, she didn’t want her cast net catching on the remnants of that chair.
Willa dropped the net where it was and headed into the closet in the garage. It was where her grandfather had stored everything—fishing supplies, tools, buckets, and anything else one might need living on the water. She dug through a few boxes and found some gloves reserved for fishing.
She came back out to the wharf and shimmied out of her shorts. Down to just her bikini and the fishing gloves, she walked down the stairs to the beach and waded out to where she saw the chair.
Since she’d left the cast net where she was when she saw it, she used it as a marker to figure out how close she was to it. After a few minutes in the general area where she knew it was, she found it. Pushing her hands under water, she gave it a tug and felt very little movement.
She sighed, pushing her hair back, and correcting her stance so she could put more effort into pulling it. She reached into the water, grabbed the chair, and?—
“What the hell are you doing, Greene?”
Startled, Willa lost her balance right as a wave crashed into her. Normally sure-footed in the water, she felt shock ripple through her as she toppled over, right into the rusted, pointy ends of the chair. She hissed, feeling it cut her legs, and she tried to wiggle her way out, reaching her feet for the ground to steady herself.
She heard a curse and a splash, and as she tried to stand back up in the water, she felt strong arms grab her and lift her out of the Bay.
“Fuck, I’m sorry for startling you,” Shawn said, his eyes wild. “Are you okay?”
He started booking it to shore, careful to keep Willa above the water. Her head was spinning.
“I’m fine,” she said. “You can put me down.”
She kicked her legs a bit, and he gripped her tighter. Her arm rubbed up against his chest, and that’s when she realized he was shirtless. She looked up at him, but his gaze was concentrated ahead. Though his eyes were still frantic, he was honed in on getting her to safety. She sighed in resignation as he carried her up the stairs and into her kitchen, where he gently set her down in a chair and inspected her legs.
She definitely didn’t miss the feeling of his strong arms around her now that he set her down.
Definitely wasn’t thinking about what it felt like for him to pick her up like she was nothing and carry her out of the water with almost alarming ease.
Definitely didn’t wish he’d let her run her fingers along his muscled arms and abs.
Nope, not one bit.
“Not too deep, but these cuts need to be taken care of immediately,” he looked up at her, and she remembered that she’d hurt herself on the rusty chair. “You up to date on your tetanus shot?”
She nodded.
Shawn grabbed another chair and propped her legs up on it.
Willa tried not to think about how his rough fingers felt on her calves,
“Got a first aid kit around here?” he asked.
She stood up to go get it, and he gently pushed her back down, eyes darkening.
“Stay put. Where is it?”
“I can?—”
“Where. Is. It.”
She rolled her eyes. “Above the sink.”
He went into the kitchen and opened the cabinet, returning with some peroxide and cotton balls.
“Shawn, you don’t have to do this,” Willa said. “I’m fine.”
He looked at her, his eyes hardening.
“Don’t.”
A single word never sounded so menacing.
She didn’t say a word as he put peroxide on the cotton balls and dabbed them over the cuts that danced across her calves, her feet, and her thighs. It burned, but not enough for it to be uncomfortable for her. She’d gotten stung by jellyfish in this bay more times than she could count; her pain tolerance was high.
He went back into the kitchen and washed his hands. Then he returned with Neosporin and gently rubbed it over all her wounds. His calloused fingers were remarkably tender as he put it on the cuts on her feet.
Then he lifted her right leg and set her foot on his shoulder so he could better reach the cuts on her upper thigh.
Willa’s breath hitched as he took care of her with such concentrated intent. She felt heat creep up her neck and into her cheeks. He didn’t notice; he just finished her right leg, set the foot on the ground, and moved to her left leg, setting that foot on his shoulder again.
Willa’s imagination ran wild as she imagined what it’d be like for her legs to be draped over his shoulders because of something else.
And then she released an embarrassing groan as he finished rubbing neosporin over one of the cuts high up on her thigh with his thumb.
Shawn looked up at her in confusion, then seemed to realize the position he was in: kneeling between her legs, his hands drifting up her thighs. Heat flared in his eyes as he stood up.
“You should clean those cuts a few times a day,” he said, his voice thick.
She nodded, and without another word, he left her kitchen.
Willa slidinto a seat at the bar and waved at Amanda, who was taking the order of someone across the way. Attendance at her yoga classes had steadily increased, and the class tonight was fantastic. The group was engaged and fun, and people of all levels tried new things. Plus, the sunset was absolutely gorgeous over the water.
She thought she’d take the chance to get to know Amanda a bit before heading back home. It wasn’t completely dark out yet, but she was dreading going home.
She knew Shawn would come over to fish off the wharf tonight—it had become an easy, unspoken agreement between them. He came over every night with shrimp—free of charge—and they sat together and caught fish. Sometimes they released them back into the water, but she kept a lot of them in her freezer so she could eat them in the coming weeks. She always offered some to him, but he never took them.
Willa’s thighs clenched together as she thought back to how he’d tended to her earlier that day, the spark that jolted her as his fingers caressed her leg, how his hot breath felt on her.
And now she was trying to avoid going home, where she and Shawn would inevitably sit out on the wharf and try to pretend like there was no sexual tension between them.
“What can I get you?” Amanda said with a grin.
“A vodka soda with a lime.”
“On it.”
Amanda effortlessly mixed the drink in front of Willa and handed it to her.
“So how are you settling in?” Amanda asked, propping her chin on her hands.
“Good. I grew up coming here every summer, so honestly it just feels like coming home. It’s nice being here. What about you? How long have you lived here?”
“Moved down here about a year ago after visiting with my mom,” Amanda said. “She had cancer and wanted to see the beach one last time. So I brought her here, and when she died a few months later, I needed to get out of my hometown. So I moved here. I realized I could just wake up and be at the beach everyday and that could be my life. Best decision I ever made.”
“Wow,” Willa said softly, sipping her drink. “I’m so sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks. It was pancreatic cancer. Basically a death sentence from the moment she was diagnosed. I miss her, but I know she’d be happy I moved here. I’ll never forget the look on her face when I brought her here. She’d been here before, of course. But the time before she died? It was like she was seeing it for the first time. Like she was trying to memorize every last inch of this place.”
“I supposed I’d want to see the beach one last time, too, if I were her.”
A beat of silence passed before Amanda cleared her throat.
“Well, enough about me. What’s your story?”
Willa released a half-hearted chuckle.
“Let’s see. I found out my boyfriend of two years had a wife and child, so I blocked him on everything and moved here immediately. I have yet to get a therapist even though my best friend keeps nagging me about it and I know I should.” Charlie had sent her three texts earlier that day checking in to see if she’d found a therapist yet. “So now I’m living in my dead grandparents’ house, eating fish for every goddamn meal, and I barely have a job. Oh, and to top it all off, I’m dealing with this weird sexual tension with my disgustingly hot neighbor.”
She sighed and polished off her drink.
Amanda gaped at her.
“Damn. I’d offer you a shot but I know you still have to drive home.”
“Good thing we’re going out tomorrow night,” Willa responded with a smirk.
“Yeah, sounds like a girl’s night is just what the doctor ordered,” Amanda said.
“You have no idea.”
Willa pulled out her wallet to pay but Amanda waved her off.
“On the house.”
“Thanks,” Willa grinned.
“See you tomorrow night.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”