Page 48 of Enticing Her Love

“At a school dance. I was so nervous, I must’ve downed ten glasses of soda before we kissed.”

“Was she your date?”

“No. I was too nervous to ask her, but we told each other we’d be there, and I planned it all out in my head for days before the dance. I was going to ask her to dance and then go in for the kiss on the dance floor.”

“Oh no. On the dance floor?”

“Yup. I was doing well, too. I got up my nerve and held my breath as I went in for the kiss. I was still holding it when we stopped kissing, and I guess I was still so nervous, I forgot to breathe. I thought I was going to pass out. I wish I had passed out, but I hurled right there on the dance floor.”

“Aw.” She laughed. “Now I feel bad for thirteen-year-old Flynn. I bet you didn’t get many kisses from Maggie after that.”

“I didn’t want to kiss anyone after that, but Clay straightened my ass out.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a furrowed brow. “Did he teach you to kiss?”

“No. He hooked me up with one of his female friends, and she taught me how.”

“No wonder you like older women. Did she teach you all the bases?”

“Not all of them. But that’s enough about me.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” she goaded. “Let me in on your boyhood secrets. I told you about when I lost my virginity.”

“There’s nothing to let you in on. She let me feel her up, and that was almost enough for me to embarrass myself by creaming in my pants.”

She laughed. “That would have added insult to injury.”

“Enough rehashing my most embarrassing moments. It’s your turn.”

“Okay, let’s see.” She swung the machete to move a plant out of the way. “I got my tonsils out when I was four, I have more than thirty handbags, and I’d like to personally thank the girl who taught you how to kiss.” She turned around with a playful smile and dragged her forearm across her sweaty brow. “Thanks to her, this time with you hasn’t been that bad.”

“Is that right?” As he reached for her hand, his gaze caught on a snake coiled on the ground just inches behind her left foot. Instinct kicked in, leveling his voice and his heart rate. “Sutton. Don’t move.” Her face blanched with his icy command as he slowly took the machete from her with his right hand, removing the hatchet from the holder at his waist with his left.

“Flynn…?” Panic riddled her voice.

“Shh. Don’t talk.” His eyes remained trained on the snake. “Don’t move, and you’ll be fine.” He fucking hoped it was true, but it was a deadly bushmaster poised to strike. The bushmaster was a pit viper, and their bite was one of the deadliest in the world even with treatment. They produced such large quantities of venom, and their striking speed was so fast, they could kill just about anything that crossed their path. Its broad head hovered menacingly above its thick body. Flynn had one shot, and if he fucked it up, one of them was going to get bitten and would likely not make it out of there alive. “I’m going to move,” he said just above a whisper. “Do not so much as flinch.”

“’Kay,” she whispered shakily.

The snake eyed him. That’s it, motherfucker. Look at me, not her. Gripping the machete tightly, in the space of a breath, he took a purposeful step to her left while simultaneously lifting the machete, placing his right booted foot between Sutton and the snake, and bringing the machete down with all his strength behind the snake’s head as it lashed out. He pushed Sutton away, sending her stumbling.

“Flynn!”

“Stay back.” His hand shot out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The snake’s fangs had punctured his boot, and the severed head was hanging from it. He could barely hear past the thundering of his heart and concentrated on slowing down his heart rate. He tried to focus enough to feel something more than the burn of adrenaline and figure out if the fangs had punctured him.

“Your foot!” Sutton cried.

“Stay there. I’m fine.” At least I fucking hope I am. He pushed his foot down inside the boot, the sole sinking into the ground. He closed his eyes briefly, bringing all his focus to his feet. Thank God he didn’t feel puncture wounds. He slid the tip of the machete under the curved fangs, prying them off his boot, and used the flat edge of it to fling the severed head several feet away. He picked up the snake’s body and hurled it into the brush, not wanting it anywhere near Sutton. Only then did he pull her trembling body into his arms, pressing one hand to her back, the other cradling her head. Relief engulfed him like a cloak. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But are you okay? Check your foot.” Her tears wet his cheek.

“I’m fine. It didn’t get me. I’d feel it.” He kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter, needing the connection as much as she did. He wasn’t used to caring about anyone this much, and he didn’t know what to do with the emotions swamping him. “You’re okay, sweetheart.” Thank God you’re okay. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Chapter Thirteen

SUTTON HAD BEEN terrified when Flynn’s voice had gone cold and he’d told her not to move. It had taken every ounce of her willpower not to run, and in the split second when he’d moved behind her and she’d heard the smack of the machete and the visceral, animalistic noise that had erupted from Flynn, her heart had nearly stopped. But nothing compared to the fear that had gripped her when she’d seen the snake’s severed head hanging from Flynn’s boot. Flynn didn’t even look scared, while she could barely hold her shit together. He’d been hypervigilant after that, and those eagle eyes hadn’t missed a thing since, guiding her away from even the smallest of potential dangers, from spiders to holes in the ground.

She thought they’d both be able to breathe a little easier when they reached the campsite and could talk about what had happened, but Flynn had gone into some kind of silent warrior mode, checking every inch of their site with a fine-tooth comb, splitting wood, building a fire, and cooking the fish and mushrooms they’d brought back for dinner, all with a pinched expression and tension riddling his entire body. Her attempts at conversation while they ate were met with only nods or shrugs. She had a feeling he was upset with her for not paying more attention when she’d taken the lead, and he had a right to be, but if she had to watch him clench his jaw, poke the fire, or circle the campsite one more time, she was going to lose her mind.