In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

the Band-Aids for the first time. “Why would you do that?”

Nick’s phone light went off. “They’ll be worse if they dry out. We pull out in ten minutes. Do you need help getting up?”

Pull out? “You don’t need to drive me home. I can walk.”

“You aren’t going home. We’re going to get some fish.”

Fishing? The man expected her to go fishing with hands full of blisters and a body she could barely move? All Lauren wanted was a hot bath and a soft bed. The man could go fishing all by himself.

“There’s no way.” Lauren pushed herself off the couch and the agony nearly sent her back down. She wavered but Nick caught her before she could crumble. Shoving him off, she said, “I can stand on my own.”

He held on despite her efforts. “If I let go, you’ll be in a heap on the floor in seconds. Just give yourself a minute.”

Pride made her want to push him away even harder, but Nick was right. Her legs were like overcooked noodles and her head was spinning.

“You didn’t eat enough last night. I’ve got a protein smoothie in the fridge. You can have that until we get some solid food into you.”

Lauren couldn’t remember the last time someone took care of her like this. Or if anyone ever had. She’d never considered curling into another human being, but that’s all she wanted to do in that moment. Tuck herself against Nick and let him carry the weight of the world for a while.

Instead, she took several deep breaths, allowing her mind to come fully awake and her legs to steady.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, loosening the grip she had on his sleeve. “I’m not used to leaning on people.”

“I can tell.” Loosening his hold around her waist, he said, “Better?”

“Yeah.” She tested her legs and was relieved when they held her up. “I can make it home.”

“If you insist on going home, I’ll drive you, but you’ll be missing out.”

Her experience with fishing was limited to a summer in her childhood when one of her mom’s boyfriends—possibly the only one who had ever shown any interest in her children—had taken Lauren and Knox out to a lake and taught them how to bait their own hooks. In the evening, they’d cooked what they’d caught and her love of cooking over an open flame had been born.

She hadn’t touched a pole since and was in no shape to do so today.

“I can’t go fishing, Nick. I’ll be lucky if I can hold my knives at work.”

“I didn’t say we were going fishing. We’re going to pick up some fresh fish. No poles involved.”

Lauren looked over to the sliding glass doors and saw nothing but moonlight glinting off the water. “Where are we going to find fresh fish in the middle of the night?”

“It’s six a.m. The sun will be up soon. And we’re surrounded by fresh fish, remember? We’re on an island.” He thought he was so cute. “Are you in or not?”

He had her curious now. “Which way is the bathroom?”

Nick took her by the shoulders and turned her to the right. “Walk straight ahead. I’ll have the smoothie waiting when you come back.”

Careful not to trip, she staggered across the room, hands outstretched to find the bathroom doorway. Once inside, she patted around for the switch and Nick called, “It’s on the left.” So he was a chef, a nurse, and a psychic. Was there anything the man couldn’t do?

Maybe if she hadn’t fallen asleep, Lauren would have discovered more of his talents. Then again, considering her current condition, it’s likely her body would have cramped up at an inopportune time and humiliated her much more than she already was.

Locating the switch, she flipped the light on and nearly blinded herself. “Motherfu—”

“You good?” called Nick.

“Sure,” she called back. “All good.”

Lauren closed the door, paused to let her eyes adjust, and then quickly took care of the necessities. Minutes later, she exited the bathroom feeling presentable if not totally human. Pretending that every step didn’t hurt was difficult, but she did her best not to whimper as she returned to the kitchen.

“Pills first,” Nick said, nodding toward the bottle he’d moved to the island counter. “You can drink the smoothie on the way.” Next to the medicine was water and a tall, slim bottle with green liquid inside. She tried to sniff the concoction through the straw. “It tastes better than it looks,” he said.

Her stomach growled and she decided to take his word for it. The pills went down with ease and would hopefully kick in fast.

“I’m ready.”

Nick grabbed a set of keys from a bowl on the counter. “Then let’s go.”

12

Nick parked his truck beside Pilar’s at the entrance to the pier as dawn broke over the horizon. Muted orange and yellow streaks danced across the sky like a painting hanging over the water and signaling that the sun would rise from the salty depths any minute. With a deep breath he filled his lungs with fresh sea air, one of his favorite perks about living on the island.

Lauren had powered through the smoothie before they’d gotten halfway through the village, and as he’d expected, she’d guessed his secret ingredient for making the shakes more tolerable—date syrup. To her credit, she didn’t ask many questions once they arrived, content to follow as he took a right and headed toward a fishing boat at the far end of the docks.

“Morning, Wyatt,” he called as they grew closer.

“Morning, Nick. Who’s that you’ve got with ye?”

“This is Lauren Riley. She’s the new chef at Pilar’s here.” He pointed to the building behind them. “What used to be the Marina restaurant.”

The older man smiled to reveal the wide gap between his two front teeth. “Does that mean you’re bringing me new business?” he asked, his heavy Welsh accent cutting out several syllables.

Nick looked to Lauren and her eyes went wide. “Sure?” she said.

“Delivery will be easy.” Wyatt lifted a large bucket out