Redeeming Rescue

Stretched on this cushioned beach lounger is my idea of heaven. A blanket of peace wrapping around me as I listen to the gentle waves lapping the shore, my skin soaking up the salt air.

I’ve had three days of running interference between that jackass of a best man and the open bars tucked in every nook and cranny of this all-inclusive resort. Three days of running my maid-of-honor duties like a pro with no help at all from he-who-shall-not-be-named.

Thank God I’m finally done and can enjoy some peace. I doubt the newlyweds will be out today; they couldn’t keep hands off each other after they said, “I do.” But I’m happy my best-friend got her dream day, and it all went off without a hitch… no thanks to Dax.

“Dammit.” I grunt in frustration. My traitor brain won’t stop thinking about that big oaf of sexiness. Sure, I caught him being sweet to Mrs. Lynn, Lilah’s elderly neighbor, this week… and her adorable six-year-old granddaughter, but I saw him pawing over way more bikini-clad twenty-something’s.

“Problem, darlin’?” Startled out of my disturbing thoughts, the oaf in question roughly plops his weight into the lounger beside me. The thing creaks underneath that muscular frame. For a minute, I wonder if it’ll support the body of a professional athlete.

“Careful, idiot.” My laughter receives an answering growl from under his breath, which just makes me laugh harder. Maybe the stress of the last few days has finally cracked my sanity.

“Be nice or I won’t share the surprise I brought.” He tuts his tongue like I’m a naughty child, clutching two giant schooners of mimosa in hand.

“Is that a peace offering?” I ask, reluctantly accepting the offered drink.

“Hah.” Masculine laughter booms from his chaise. “Darlin,’ if I thought you could be swayed by a cocktail, we would’ve gotten along a lot better on this trip.” Dax’s gravelly voice, scratchy from lack of sleep I’m sure, stirs an unwanted tingling in my core.

I squirm uncomfortably, trying not to picture all the many women he cozied up to this week with those cocktails. I did the entire wedding prep while he stayed shit-faced. It royally pissed me off! And what… now that the work is done, the sexy bastard wants to make nice! My best friend marrying his brother should mean more to him.

So, yes… I’ve been an utter bitch the last few days. And it has nothing at all to do with the harem of females he’s always surrounded with.

Not at all.

“I’m sorry if I come across a little…”

“Passionate?” He offers a smile, melting the ice I usually aim in Dax’s direction. “Ball-busting?” This time, his self-deprecating laugh is contagious. Tears of stress relief leak from my eyes the more I giggle at his nonsense. I am not a giggler, but… he’s offering an out.  

“Truce?” I extend my hand, smiling.

“Four more days together, Sporty Spice. We can survive.” Dax’s warm hand surrounds mine, eyes smoldering. Danger! The heat behind those swirling blue eyes makes me forget how much I hate that nickname he gave me the first time we met. It was the first night I spent babysitting this overgrown man-child at Holden and Lilah’s engagement party.

In the distance, a panicked shriek breaks the spell those crystal eyes locked me into, splashing orange juice all over my hand when I jump in surprise. Before I can make a move to find the source of the sound, Dax is out of the chair and running toward the ocean, his drink tossed in the sand as an afterthought.

The t-shirt he’d been wearing flies as he rips it over his head seconds before diving into the water toward flailing arms, barely staying above the rough surf. I grab my phone and run to the edge of the waves, dialing the number for the resort’s front desk that I’ve dialed a number of times this week during the wedding planning.

“Makalai Bay Resort,” greets pleasantly in my ear.

“We need a doctor at the water. Someone’s drowning. Hurry,” I screech before hanging up and running deeper into the water in case Dax needs help. By the time the water reaches my thigh, Dax is on his way back out of the water, a terrified young girl clinging to his neck, shaking.

“S’all right, little one.” He shushes her cries, squeezes her shivering body to his chest while the three of us work our way out of the warm ocean water. Dax gracefully steps over the tossing waves, going to sit the girl in the warm sand. The distraught thing fights letting go of his neck, desperate to hang on to her savior.

I getcha, honey. He’s probably the hottest lifeguard you could ever ask to rescue you outside of Hollywood.

Tears stream down the girl’s face, her matted curls sticking to her skin as sobs wrack her body. Dax begs me with his eyes, pleading for help… either to handle a crying female or to detangle her arms locked around his neck. I’m not sure, but it’s all I can do to remember the young girl—who can’t be older than fourteen—has just undergone an incredibly stressful experience. She doesn’t deserve my laughter, no matter how adorable the imploring look on Dax’s face is.

Finally, I cut him a break and bend down to take her hand, untangling it at the same time as I wrap my own arms around her shoulders. “Are these your parents coming?” She jerks her head, letting out a high pitch call for her mother when she sees the middle-aged couple running toward us down the shoreline. Relieved, she jumps up on wobbly legs, running away from Dax and I and getting wrapped up in her parent’s embrace.

“Wow,” I whisper, glancing up at Dax’s sexy profile as he watches the reunion with a haunted look on his face. Droplets of water fall from the still-wet blonde hair that’s just long enough to flop over his forehead. My hand reaches up without thought, to brush the water away from his eyes, but I stop myself just in time. Playing off the motion by places a hand on the muscular curve of his shoulder. “That was amazing, Dax. Are you ok?”

He nods but turns to face me, the hunger from a few minutes ago still firing behind his eyes. Those five minutes could easily have been a hundred with how much has changed inside me. The sun gleaming off his shirtless chest is making me forget our week of hell. The hard planes of his chest curving into very tantalizing ridges that run down his stomach, highlighting the hard work this man puts into keeping himself in tip-top shape.

“Rori.” My name is a sensual growl, warning me seconds before Dax’s lips crash into mine, his hands wrapping me up into his body. The adrenaline from our earlier emergency fuels our kiss.

Hormones twisting up my insides after basically watching a man who I assumed was a vapid, spoiled, man-whore risk his life in the rough waters to rescue a stranger.

Dax Holden is about to become my favorite mistake, but that’s what vacation flings are for, right?