The Long Hot Summer

“I’m a good swimmer.”

With lightning-quick reflexes, Johnny shot his arm out past her head and yanked the snake out of the tree. As it dangled from his outstretched hand, thrashing to free itself, he drawled, “And just how good are you with curious snakes?”

To his surprise, she didn’t go crazy on him and start screaming the way he’d expected she would. She did, however, take several steps back. “I didn’t see it,” she admitted.

“I know.” He gave the mottled brown snake a mighty heave into the woods. “It’s just a harmless milk snake, but until you see it, how would you know? By then, it could be too late.” Lesson over, he changed the subject. “You call Craig about those supplies we need? Talk to him about ordering shingles?”

“I tried.”

“What do you mean, tried?”

“Farrel Craig wasn’t in his office when I called this morning. It’ll have to wait until Monday. I’ve decided to go into town, that way then I can order the shingles.”

His bar of soap must have slipped out of his pocket. She bent to pick it up and tossed it to him. “When you decide to wash, don’t forget to use it.”

She was past him before he had a chance for a comeback. Johnny watched her go, her hips swaying slowly. Each step she took appeared innocent enough, and maybe that was the turn-on. There was something erotic and very inviting about a woman who had no idea how completely she affected a man, inside and out. And there was no doubt Nicole Chapman affected him. He’d spent half the night thinking about her, and most of the morning.

Once she was gone, Johnny unzipped his jeans and shoved them to his knees. He was just stepping out of them when he saw her shoes sitting on the stump.

Nicole stopped to examine her injury. The inch-long cut on the bottom of her foot wasn’t deep, but it hurt like the devil. Angry with herself for forgetting her shoes, she started back to the pond, limping like a lame bird. She wouldn’t have forgotten the damn shoes if it hadn’t been for that blasted snake. It had taken all the composure she owned to keep from screaming and acting foolish.

If she’d returned to the pond a second sooner, Nicole was sure, she would have caught Johnny Bernard buck naked. He looked as surprised as she did when she reappeared—his hair loose and hanging free to his shoulders, his jeans riding low on his hips, the zipper at half-mast.

She motioned toward the stump where her shoes sat. “I—I forgot them.” She took a step to retrieve them, and winced when a sharp pain shot into the bottom of her foot.

“What happened?”

“Just a scratch.” Nicole tried to downplay her injury and the pain it was causing. Johnny Bernard hadn’t come right out and said what he thought of a city girl moving to the country, but she sensed he didn’t think she would last long.

His gaze sharpened. “You didn’t step on something you shouldn’t have, did you?”

Was he trying to be funny or was he serious? She had thought it was a stick that she’d stepped on, but now suddenly worried, Nicole hobbled to the nearest tree. Leaning against it, she raised her foot to examine the injury. The blood covering the bottom of her foot made it difficult. She wiped it away, trying to pinpoint the pain.

“Here, let me have a look.”

Nicole glanced up and found him standing over her. “No, really, I’m fine.”

“Let’s make sure.”

She slid down the tree and sat. “Just don’t make it hurt worse.”

He crouched in front of her and took hold of her foot. His hands were big and warm, rough from the kind of work he did. He wiped away the blood on his jeans, then carefully examined the cut. Finally he said, “You’ll live, but you need surgery.”

“What!”

Nicole tried to jerk her foot back, but he hung on. In fact, he tightened his grip. “Easy. There’s a sliver in there, and you could drive it deeper if you’re not careful.”

“A sliver?” Relieved, Nicole sighed and relaxed against the tree.

“A good-size sliver,” he corrected. “It needs to come out.”

“And it will,” Nicole assured. “Gran can—”

“I don’t think you should wait.” His dark eyes found hers. “If you put your weight on it, you could break it off or force it deeper. ’Course, I could carry you to the house…”

“Carry me? No. I—”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” He worked his hand into the front pocket of his ragged jeans and came up with a long sleek knife that unfolded into something that looked like it came straight out of a Rambo movie. That he owned such a knife was bad enough, but to think he was going to use it to probe the bottom of her foot was worse.

“Wait!”

He looked up. “You change your mind, cherie? You want a ride to the house?”

Damn him, but he almost looked as if he were enjoying this, Nicole thought.

When she didn’t answer, he settled more comfortably in the grass, tucked his hair behind his ears, then took hold of her foot again. She wasn’t expecting him to be gentle, but as she leaned her head against the tree and braced herself for what was to come next, she had to give him more than a little credit; he treated her foot like a piece of fragile glass.

She closed her eyes at the first prick of pain. “Talk to me,” she insisted. “Say anything. Gran said you were a marine,” she began, sucking in her breath as the pain began to build.

“For five years.”

“Ouch!” Nicole bit her lip.

“Easy. This damn thing’s twice as long as it is deep. Just breathe slow and even.”

He sounded sincere. Nicole braced herself and tried to do as she was told. “Why did you quit the military?”

“I didn’t quit. I was medically discharged.” His hand stilled, and he glanced up. He offered her a smile before he lowered his head and went back to work. Quietly, he drawled, “I won’t cut your toes off, cherie. I promise.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I spent some time in Kuwait.” He looked up, laid the knife in the grass. “This isn’t working, cherie, but I know what will.”

Before Nicole could ask him what he had in mind, he lifted her foot upward and pulled. The movement dragged her away from the tree, and, to keep her balance, she arched her back and rested on her elbows for support. He took in her sprawled position and said, “Now, don’t move, no matter what. Okay?”

Nicole hesitated, then nodded warily.

He lowered his head, and a moment later his warm breath touched the bottom of her foot. Nicole had no idea what he meant to do until she felt his tongue slide over the cut. She clutched the grass at her sides in tight fists and craned her neck to see what was going on. He’d said don’t move, but my God, he was licking the bottom of her foot!

She tried to sit up while at the same time pulling her foot away. He looked up. “I said, don’t move. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

He went back to work, and Nicole felt his tongue glide slowly over her foot once more. She decided to give him exactly one minute, and if he didn’t—

“Ou-ouch!” Nicole jerked her foot away from him with such force that it sent her falling onto her back. She closed her eyes for a second, the pain momentarily stealing her breath. It had felt as if he’d sent the sliver clean through the top of her foot.

“You all right?”

Nicole slowly opened her eyes. Johnny was kneeling over her, the ends of his black hair almost tickling her face, those unnerving eyes smiling down at her. He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. And there it was—the wicked-looking sliver.

“It’s huge,” Nicole gasped.

He turned his head away from her and spit the splinter into the thick brush, then sat back on his heels. “When I was a kid, my mama used to take slivers out that way. We never owned a pair of tweezers.” He reached for his knife and slipped it back into his pocket, then stood and held out his hand to help her up.

Nicole took his offered hand, and he easily pulled her up. She tested out her foot, the pain only slight now. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome.”

Now that her crisis was past, Nicole once again became fully aware of Johnny Bernard. They were standing close, his chest gleaming and hard, his half-zipped fly exposing an appealing dark navel. Yes, she’d noticed his attributes yesterday and again this morning in her bedroom, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything from him, because she most definitely did not.

“I need to get back,” she announced quickly.

“Yeah, me, too. I’ve been invited to supper.”

Nicole reached for her shoes and slipped them on. “I thought you said you didn’t have many friends.”

“That’s right. Just so you know, cherie, the old lady invited me to join the two of you for supper. See you at seven.”

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