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“I’ll try,” she assured him, rescuing the oar that had also fallen overboard, but was thankfully still floating alongside them. How hard could it be? “Can’t be harder than say… driving a bus.”
“Sorry guys,” he apologised to the kitties. “I’m afraid the odds of survival are going to be dicey for a while longer. We may yet drown.”
“Won’t,” she huffed, dipping the paddle, and turning them around so that she could see where they were going. “It’s not far now. I think…” It’d been years since she’d been to that pub. Her grandparents had taken her out for Sunday lunch a couple of times back when she’d been about twelve. Back when there was anyone in her life who gave an actual shit about her welfare. Gray, her least scuzzy brother, had only helped her find employment because that meant he didn’t have to stump up cash to support her. That was one thing about her dinosaur dad and his old-fashioned view of the world. It might mean women were for the kitchen and child-rearing, but it was up to the men of the family to support them.
“Cletterington,” she said, a few minutes later.
“Say what?” Paul snapped his attention to her. He’d been twisted about, looking over his shoulder so that he could keep an eye on their trajectory.
“The name of the village the road leads to. You asked me a while back, remember? It’s just come to me.”
“You said it started with an A.”
“Yeah, well, it starts with an A in the same way that Rock Giant does.”
She regretted the retort the moment she said it.
“Watch it, Castle. Should I remind you I’m the means by which you’re going to escape prison, not to mention the chief cat rescuer on this mission?”
She gave him a snort, and followed it with a huff, then added a timid, “Sorry,” a moment later. “I don’t know why you’re even speaking to me, let alone all the rest.”
“It’s because I’m a good guy.” His eyes twinkled bright beneath the starlight. “And I’m hoping I’ll get a shag out of it,” he said, not even a hint of irony in his voice.
Yes, she could just picture him on stage with his band the following night, relaying his adventures to a rapturous crowd. Kitty rescuing was bound to melt some hearts and panties. “I’m sure your fangirls will lap it up.”
He was shaking his head slightly, an odd smile across his lips when she next glanced across at him. “What?”
“I meant from you, not the fan-girlies. I’m just spelling it out in case you want to slap me down with a rebuke rather than have it dawn on you later when it’s too late.”
“Huh!” He wanted to shag her? Was he nuts? She’d drowned his bus, and lost his phone, and landed him on a river in the dark. And all joking aside… “I can’t believe you need to go to so much effort to get laid.”
His smile didn’t waver. “Well, as you said earlier, I’m just the bass player.”
“Yeah, but you’re hot.”
His grin broadened, showing off his nice white teeth. “Yeah, and so are you, Castle. So are you.”
She really wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It didn’t sound like a line, but nor was it a term people usually applied to her. Big-boned. Dumpy. But hot? To that, she had no reply besides a blush. It took her mind off how tough paddling was for a few minutes, though, wondering what it might actually be like to kiss him. She’d never fondled muscles of the type he had. Not that he was a beefcake or anything, just nicely contoured, and all that ink… Well, it had been something. She wouldn’t mind a closer look. And there was the matter of the ring through his dick… That was quite an intriguing prospect. Maybe once they reached their destination, they could explore that possibility, or not, because he probably hadn’t meant it.
“Jodi,” he said, drawing her attention back to their entangled legs in the centre of the boat. “I absolutely meant it, and if we weren’t in the middle of a river where distracting you could prove fatal, I’d prove it.”
-chapter eight-
Jodi Castle
Jodi drew the dinghy up level to the footpath that ran along the riverbank. Now they were here. There was just the matter of getting onto dry land to worry about.
“Use the oar to brace us,” Paul instructed. “I’ll go first, then I can hold her steady so you can get out.” He made it sound so simple, and actually, he was so nimble he more or less hopped onto dry land.
After a bit of kitten rearrangement so that he could temporarily hunch down to hold on to the boat coat without squashing or losing any of them, Jodi gingerly pushed the oar onto the path. She tried standing in order to duplicate Paul’s exit, but the vessel rocked alarmingly beneath her, so that she gave up on that idea before she’d even gained her feet. Maybe arms first would be better. At least then she’d have hold of the bank, and wouldn’t end up completely submerged, should the dinghy capsize.
“Hurry it up, Castle.”
Jodi clutched at the tufts of long grasses on the bank, then at the sleeve and back of Paul’s jacket when the sods gave way. Finally, and perhaps ill-advisedly, as she heaved forward, feet flapping ineffectively and her knees failing to find proper purchase, the seat of his joggers.
“Ooh! Hello.” He snorted with laughter as she inadvertently gave him a wedgy.
“Sorry. Sorry.”
