Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Thank you.” Izzy shot me a watery smile as I sat her at the base of the nearest tree. “I can help,” she argued, her hand cradling the left side of her rib cage.
I hit my knees beside her, praying the bluish tinge to her lips was just cold. “Can I see?” I asked, reaching for her vest.
She nodded, water droplets streaming down her face as her head fell back against the tree.
With numb fingers, I somehow managed to unzip her vest and lift the side of her shirt. Then I muttered a curse. “There’s no blood, but it’s a hell of a contusion. I wouldn’t be surprised if you broke the ribs.”
“That would explain the pain. I think I did something to my shoulder too.” She brushed her hand over my forehead and into my hair. “You have a nasty cut just beneath your hairline.”
“That’s okay. It will just increase my appeal. Chicks dig scars, you know.” I studied her blown pupils, which were consuming way too much of those beautiful brown eyes.
“Help!” someone else shouted.
Izzy lurched forward.
“Nope. You stay right here.” I leveled my best stare on her. “I mean it. Right. Here. I’ll be right back.”
“Just . . . don’t die.” She fell back against the tree.
“Not planning on it.” I jumped down the bank and started helping pull others up, and I couldn’t help but sigh in absolute relief when the mom and baby made it to shore. It took all of ten minutes to get everyone out of the water, with the exception of the rafts that had floated farther downstream.
By the time I made my way through the stumbling, crying crowd of passengers and got back to Izzy, my muscles shook with cold and the aftereffects of the adrenaline.
“See?” She lifted her right hand and gifted me with a wan, shivering smile. “Still right where you left me.”
“Good. I’m not in any condition to chase you.” I sat down beside her and pulled her under my arm, tucking her uninjured side against me. The visibility was improving, and I could even see halfway across the river now. “Let’s get you warm.”
“We survived a plane crash.” She leaned in, resting her head in that sweet spot right above my heart.
The beat of my pulse changed, slowing, steadying.
“We survived a plane crash,” I repeated, cupping the side of her face with my hand and bending my head toward hers. “Now all we have to do is wait for rescue.”
“We can’t be that far from the airport. They’ll be here soon.”
“Yeah.” Other passengers sat down near us, all in various states of shock from crying softly, to crying loudly, to . . . not crying at all, just staring straight ahead.
“Just think. If this was a book, we’d be in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, or the lone survivors, forced to share an abandoned cabin.”
A laugh rumbled up through my chest, despite . . . well, everything. “Don’t forget, it would be conveniently stocked with all the supplies we’d need.”
What the hell was wrong with me? I’d just taken my first plane ride and survived my first plane crash, and yet here I was, making jokes with a woman I’d just met, curled up with her like we’d known each other for years.
She snorted when she laughed, which made me grin, but then she tensed, and my smile faded. “I don’t . . . I don’t feel well.”
I dropped my hand from her face to her neck, finding her pulse, and my brow furrowed. It was going a mile a minute. Not that I had any clue what to do with that knowledge, but I figured it couldn’t be good, not with the pale skin, concussion, and general plane-crash issues. “Just hold steady. They’ll be here any minute.” Sirens sounded in the distance. “See? I bet that’s them. Let’s just hope there’s a road around here.”
“Are you tired?” she asked, leaning into me. “I’m just really tired.”
“You need to stay awake.” Fear dripped down my spine, colder than my soaked clothing. What were more of those icebreaker-question things? I had to keep her talking. “If you had to choose between popcorn and M&M’s, which would it be?”
“What?”
“Popcorn or M&M’s?” I repeated.
“Both.”
Interesting. “If you could live in any state, which one would it be?”
Her head bobbed.
“Izzy. Which state?”
“Maine.”
“Maine?” I searched for the source of the sirens, but no luck.
“No one in my family lives there,” she mumbled. “No expectations.”
I looked over my shoulder and around the tree as the sirens approached. “They found us.”
A police car came to a stop, and the officer jumped out, speaking into his radio. “We’re getting help here, folks! Ambulance is four minutes out!”
The father of the little boy rushed forward to the cop, his son’s arm bent at an unnatural angle, and several others took his lead.