Lakeside Love (A Mill Creek Crossing Romance) (4 page)

“Oh, God…” she whined as she slumped back onto the floor of the canoe. This was just another black cloud floating over her, she thought. And speaking of black clouds, were those storm clouds coming her way? During her nap, the sky had gone from blue and cloudless, to gray. Realizing she didn’t bother to check the weather forecast, she had no idea a hug- storm was brewing. “Help!” she yelled again straining her voice.

“You okay?” she heard a man call back. Swinging her head around, she saw a man in a blue t-shirt and jeans standing on the shore opposite her house.

“No! I lost my oar!” she yelled back throwing her hands in the air with a laugh.

“We’d better get you out of there then! There’s a big storm coming,” he yelled back. She watched as he pulled his red two-seater kayak from the side of his dock and launched it into the water. Moments later, his kayak was beside her canoe.

“Thank you so much,” she said as she started to get a better look at the kind stranger.

“No problem. I couldn’t leave a pretty lady stranded in the middle of the lake, now could I?” he said with a smile. He looked to be about her age with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. She felt a few sparks when he looked at her, but decided she was only attracted to him because he was her saving grace at the moment.

She carefully stood up as he reached out his hand to stabilize her. She used both of her hands to hold on to his large, masculine hand as he helped her into the front seat of the kayak. Telling her he would retrieve her canoe after the storm was over he rowed them back to shore. The only problem was it was his shore, not hers.

“Aren’t you taking me to my house over there?” she asked pointing.

“No time. That storm is a big one,” he said as thunder started to clap in the background.

“But, I…”

“It’s okay. I’m not an ax murderer or anything,” he said with a smile as they pulled up to the shoreline and stepped out of the kayak.

“It seems to me that all ax murderers use that line,” she said.

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to trust me because I’m all you’ve got right now,” he said. Realizing she had no other choice, and spurred on by the scary lightning zapping all around them, she climbed out quickly just as the bottom fell out. Rain poured in buckets all over them, and her idea of staying dry quickly went out the window.

They ran toward his house and made it just before a big gust of wind threw his patio furniture across the yard. As he slammed the door behind them, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to a flight of stairs leading to the basement.

“What’s wrong?” she yelled as the wind whipped around the house.

“Not sure, but that might be a tornado out there!” he yelled back. They could hardly hear each other as the storm raged outside.

“Oh, no…” she moaned when she realized she had a gash on her leg. She sat down on the floor of the unfinished basement as the power went out. He reached across and pulled her close to him as she covered her head and prayed they would be safe.

A sliver of light shined through the basement window, and it was enough for him to see her leg. The bleeding had slowed down, but she obviously needed to treat the large cut.

“How did that happen?” he asked touching her leg. His touch sent shivers down her already electrified body.

“I’m not sure. I think some of the debris,” she said as she shook from fear.

“It’ll be okay. Just calm down…” he said softly as he put his arm around her and rocked her back and forth. She didn’t even know this man, but felt immense amounts of comfort in his arms. How was that possible?

A few moments later, the sky brightened up again and the noise stopped. It seemed to last for hours, but Erica knew it was just a few minutes. She’d been in Georgia storms before, but never anything like that one. She took a few calming breaths before looking over at the handsome stranger.

“I’m Erica, by the way,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Nice to meet you Erica. I’m Dylan Kramer,” he said holding out his hand to shake hers as he slowly released the arm he’d planted around her shoulders.

“How do I begin to thank you for finding me?” she said as the words rang in her head. Gracie had said her perfect man would find her. Could this be him?

“No need to thank me. I was just in the right place at the right time. Why don’t we go upstairs and tend to that cut?” he said standing up and pulling her to her feet. He was strong and rugged and unlike any man she’d ever seen up close. His scent was a mixture of trees and wood and sweat and everything she imagined a real man should smell like. Max smelled like a department store.

She hobbled up the stairs as he put his hand on her lower back to stabilize her. How did a stranger’s hand feel so familiar?

They made their way into the kitchen, and she sat on a bar stool. He walked into the laundry room and came back with a first aid kit. The cut was larger than she thought it was, and blood was caked on her leg. He carefully started to wipe away the excess blood with a wet cloth before spraying some antibiotic spray on the cut. She winced when it stung.

“Sorry. I just don’t want it to get infected,” he said looking at her with those eyes. Man, those eyes.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m tough.” She smiled even though it stung pretty badly.

“I bet you are,” he said returning her smile.

“This is a nice place. How long have you lived here?” she asked trying to break the obvious tension between them.

“Thanks. I’ve been here almost three years now. Wow, time flies…” he said looking past her at the living room. He seemed to be off somewhere else in his mind.

“I’m just renting the house across the lake for a couple of weeks.”

“Alone?”

“I’m not sure I should tell a complete stranger whether I’m staying alone,” she said trying not to smile at him again.

“First, I’m an ax murderer, not a stranger. And secondly, I saved your life.”

“Saved my life? I don’t know you saved my life, per se…” she said rolling her eyes as he continued bandaging her leg.

“Oh really? What would you have done out there in the middle of the lake if there was a tornado?” he asked putting his hands on his hips as he leaned against the counter. She slowly lowered her leg, wincing along the way.

“It wasn’t a tornado.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t hear that train noise.”

“What train noise?” By this time he was chuckling at her, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“You know, the one they always talk about when describing a tornado. It goes ‘woooo wooooo…’” she trailed off as she made her best train nose before breaking into laughter and laying her head on the countertop.

“That was your train sound? Seriously?” he asked as he laughed along with her.

“You have a better train sound?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t do it in public,” he said poking her in the arm as he walked to the refrigerator. “Would you like a drink?”

“A drink?”

“Yes… a drink… Like soda, wine, water?”

“Wine?”

“Yes, I do have wine. Red or white?” he asked.

“I’d love some white,” she said putting her leg up on the stool across from her.

“I’m afraid that’s going to hurt tomorrow,” he said pointing at her leg as he poured.

“Me too. Some start to my relaxing getaway.”

“So, what are you getting away from anyway?” he asked eying her carefully.

“What makes you think I’m trying to get away from something?” she asked trying not to make eye contact.

“Well, you’re taking a getaway. You’re alone…”

“I don’t discuss my personal life with strangers,” she said with a sly smile.

“What about ax murderers?” he said smirking at her.

“Oh, sure, I tell everything to ax murderers. After all, what do I have to lose?” she said taking a sip of the wine he handed her.

He leaned across the counter and stared at her closely. She could feel his warm breath brushing across her face, and it unhinged her a bit. He was definitely the sexiest man she’d ever seen in person. On a movie screen, he would have given any Hollywood actor a run for his money.

“Shall I get my ax?” he asked winking.

“No, please don’t,” she said with a laugh holding her hands up. “Fine, I’ll tell you since I have no pride left. I’ve had a very rough couple of weeks. My fiance didn’t show up on our wedding day.” She didn’t look at him. Instead she slid her finger around the top edge of her glass wishing she hadn’t just revealed that tidbit about herself.

“Wow, he must be a piece of work,” Dylan said, which surprised her.

“Yeah, but that isn’t the worst part. He ran off with a co-worker and left me standing there in front of one hundred people including his own family.” She had no idea why she was giving him even more ammunition to think she was worthless too.

“Jackass.” His tone was pointed and matter of fact. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Erica. Let me apologize on behalf of my gender. Some of us aren’t very mature, unfortunately.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” he asked knitting his eyebrows together.

“Well, this place looks like a bachelor pad.”

“Oh, does it now?” he asked with a smile.

“You have very little in the way of decor, a brown leather sofa, that dogs playing poker picture over the mantle…” she said pointing around the living room.

“Okay, you caught me. What are you, a detective?” he asked as he refilled her glass.

“Nope. Marketing specialist.”

“Oooh… I need to pick your brain then.”

“Why is that?” she asked taking another sip of her wine.

“I own a business, and I need a good marketing mind to take it to the next level,” he said as he jumped up onto the counter in front of her and sat down.

“What kind of business?” she asked realizing that she was becoming very comfortable chatting with this good looking man.

“I own a real estate company. We buy and renovate homes, and then resell them for profit. I need to get my name in the hands of more homeowners and buyers. Interested in chatting about it?” he asked.

“Sure. But don’t think I’ve forgotten you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“About your story. You’ve heard mine, but what about yours?” she asked leaning back and crossing her arms.

“I don’t know if you have enough time to hear mine,” he said shaking his head.

“Try me.”

Dylan successfully deflected Erica’s question when he “accidentally” spilled wine on the counter. Realizing he obviously didn’t want to talk about it, she let him off the hook. It was getting late, and she had to find a way home.

“You look tired. Ready to get home?” he asked as if reading her mind. It was only nine o’clock in the evening, but she was tired. This was the most activity she’d had in days, but it was also the most fun.

“Actually, yes. But, I’m not sure how I will get there now,” she said with a laugh as she looked at her mangled leg and the dark night sky.