Sunset Hearts by Macy Largo Read Free Book Online Page A

appeared to be her feet and her peace of mind.
    “I’ll start the shower and help you get in. When you’re done, I’m taking you to a walk-in clinic so they can look at those cuts.”
    When she started to protest again he held up a hand. “Listen to me. You can give them a fake name, tell them you’re my sister or something. Tell them you fell overboard and lost your purse and ID. I’ll pay for it.”
    “I can pay.” She unhooked the fanny pack and removed the baggie and her flip-flops. Her clothes, wallet, keys and the cash were all dry. At least something had gone right. “I took it from him when I left. I hope it’s not counterfeit. Wouldn’t that be ironic, to survive Paulie Scorsini, and then get busted for passing fake money?” She laughed, then started sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m just so scared.”
    He held her, letting her cry against his shoulder. “Hey, you’re lucky you’re alive.”
    “I don’t know how long I’ll stay that way once he finds me.”
    “You’re welcomed to stay here as long as you need. I’ve got plenty of room.”
    “I can’t impose on you like that.” Not that she had any other options. She damn sure couldn’t go back to Daytona Beach.
    He squeezed her hands one last time before turning to start the shower for her. Such a sweet guy. His boyfriend was one lucky son of a gun.
    He brought her shampoo and conditioner and a comb for her hair. He offered her a steadying hand while she dropped the towels and stepped into the shower. After pulling the shower curtain closed, she carefully slipped her suit off and handed it out to him.
    Trashed by her journey to shore, several long rips split the fabric torn from snagging on the rocks. “Want me to just toss this?” he asked.
    “Please.”
    “I’ll stand outside the door if you need me.”
    “You might as well stay in here. I’m not modest.” Screw it, he was gay. Her feet hurt like hell, especially with the fresh water now aggravating the cuts in her soles. Standing felt like agony since she’d warmed up and feeling had returned to her extremities. She also realized she had scrapes up and down her legs when the water stung those, too.
    She tried to work the worst of the snarls out of her hair. It was hopelessly tangled and matted, even after she washed the mud and assorted grass and other crap out of it. “I hate to bother you, but can you help me with this?” She turned around and pulled the shower curtain open enough so he could reach her hair.
    She handed the comb to him. He drenched her hair with conditioner and carefully pulled at the ends with the comb. After fifteen minutes, he sighed. “Honey, I’m sorry, but it’s bad.”
    “I hate it long anyway. Can you cut it for me?”
    “Let me get some scissors.” He returned a moment later. “How short?”
    “As short as you need to.”
    He touched a place on her back a few inches below her shoulders. “Here?”
    “Sure.”
    She felt him carefully slide the blade along her back, snipping, then combing and snipping some more until a few minutes later he made one final long cut, in a straight line, across her back. “That’s it.”
    “Thank you.” She finished showering, turning the water even hotter while he cleaned the hair up off the floor. It felt weird having shorter hair.
    It felt good.
    “I’ll be right outside when you finish,” he said, then she heard the door shut.
    She found he’d left fluffy towels out for her, as well as a thick bathrobe and a clean pair of socks. She limped over to the counter, dried off, dressed, and pulled the robe on over her T-shirt and shorts. She still felt a little chilly.
    “All safe?” he asked through the door.
    “Yeah.” He opened the bathroom door.
    When he saw how much pain walking caused her, he carried her out to the kitchen, where he’d fixed her some soup. “You need something in you after that night.” She ate as he sat across the table from her. “You can talk to me, you know,” he said.
    She