But then Jessie was there. He went down on his knees, catching the brunette just before she hit the hard concrete.
Brock and I made sure the cart was secure before we let go. I leaned inside to turn it off, and then we each took one of the young woman’s arms and lifted her to her feet. Jessie rose as well, brushing off his board shorts. His knee was a bit scratched up and one scrape had produced a trickle of blood, but he looked okay.
The brunette looked shocked, her honey-colored eyes slightly out of focus, but she seemed okay, too. In spite of the near disaster, I couldn’t help grinning. Brock and Jessie were my best friends, and I rarely got to see them anymore. But we’d had a blast since we’d met up yesterday, and it was clear we still knew how to work together as a team. Plus, now there was this shapely cutie to get to know.
All in all, it still seemed like a damn fine day to me.
3
Maddie
What the hell just happened?
I tried to take a step forward, but my legs were shaking too much to cooperate. Luckily, there was a man on either side of me, still holding my arms. The third man, the one I’d almost run over, stood in front of me with a concerned look on his face.
It had been such a shock when I’d rounded a sharp curve and seen him standing right in front of me. He had such a nice, friendly face. Brown eyes. Dark, somewhat spiky hair. A short beard and mustache. I remembered thinking that he was too cute a guy to kill. But then I swerved, and he jumped out of the way, and by some miracle, I’d missed him. It had taken a little effort to get the cart straightened out, but I did it.
Then two other guys appeared out of nowhere, waving their arms and telling me to stop. It pissed me off. What did they want to do, check my license and registration? Give me a breathalyzer test? Make a citizen’s arrest? Their buddy was okay, so they had no reason to flag me down.
Except then I’d rounded yet another curve and seen for myself that they most certainly did have a reason to flag me down. A huge pile of logs and tree limbs blocked the path like a misplaced beaver dam. I’d slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel as hard as I could, but I would’ve tumbled into the pile—possibly with the golf cart on top of me—if the men hadn’t been there.
I still couldn’t understand how the tall one and the one with the dark blond hair had managed to keep the golf cart from tumbling over, but they had. And then the one I’d almost run down appeared at the last second to keep me from getting hurt.
“Are you okay?” I finally managed to get out, talking to the one with the kind eyes who I’d almost killed. The words sounded like an echo somehow, and I wondered if one of them had just asked me that, too.
“I’m fine.” His smile was warm and reassuring. “But how about you?”
“I think I’m okay.” I took a tentative step forward, but my legs still felt like jelly. “Only maybe don’t let go of me just yet,” I said to the men on either side of me.
The one on my left, the tall, darker one didn’t say anything, but the guy with the dark blond hair looked amused. He had green eyes and a killer smile. “Do you need to sit down?”
Did I? “No. Yes. Maybe?”
As if at an unspoken signal, both the men lifted me up and deposited me on the edge of the driver’s seat. Wow. Even in my shocked state, I was impressed. I wasn’t exactly a lightweight. Men didn’t normally pick me up like I weighed no more than a rag doll. Then again, these men looked exceptionally strong and fit.
And damn—really, really handsome. I hadn’t noticed when I first almost rolled the golf cart, but now, as they stood around me, it was really obvious.
The tall one had a short beard, too. They all did, come to think of it, but the tall man’s was the darkest. He had on mirrored sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but wow, he was ripped. His gray sleeveless shirt showed off massive, tattooed biceps. He was wearing black jeans, so I couldn’t see his legs, but they looked strong. Everything about him spoke of strength.
The other two were wearing shorts, the kind that surfers wore. Board shorts, I think they were called. Their legs were muscular and powerful too, and—oh crap. The guy who’d caught me was bleeding.
“You’re hurt!” Without thinking about it, I reached out and lifted the edge of his shorts where they covered his knee. There were several scrapes with dark red spots, plus a half dozen scratches from when he’d hit the concrete. And he’d done it for me. “I’m so sorry.”