The Man You'll Marry by Debbie Macomber Read Free Book Online Page B

you’re the last person I’d follow anywhere!”
    Mark scowled at her. “The feeling’s mutual. I’m not in the mood for another story about your aunt Martha’s damn wedding dress, either.”
    Shelly felt an unexpected flash of pain. “I was having a perfectly wonderful afternoon until you arrived,” she said stiffly.
    “I was having a good time myself,” he muttered.
    “Then I suggest we go our separate ways and forget we ever met.”
    Mark looked as if he was about to say something else, but Shelly was in no frame of mind to listen. She twisted the accelerator on the handlebar of her moped and took off down the beach. Although she knew she was being unreasonable, she was furious. Furious at the surge of joy she’d felt when she recognized him. Furious at Mark, because he didn’t seem even a little pleased to see her. She bit her lower lip, remembering the comment he’d made about not wanting to hear any more about her “damn wedding dress.” Now, that was just rude, she told herself righteously. She could never be interested in a man who was not only conventional but rude.
    Squinting, Shelly hunched her shoulders against the wind, in a hurry now to return to the boardwalk. She hadn’t meant to go nearly this far.
    The wet, compact sand made for smooth, fast riding and Shelly stayed close to the water’s edge in an effort to outdistance Mark. Not that he was likely to chase her, but she wanted to avoid any possibility of another embarrassing encounter.
    Then it happened.
    A large wave came in, sneaking its way up the sand, creating a thin, glistening sheen. Shelly hardly noticed as her front tire ripped through the water, spraying it out on both sides. Then the moped’s front wheel dipped precariously. One minute she was sailing down the beach at breakneck speed and the next she was cartwheeling over her handlebars.
    She landed heavily in a patch of wet sand, too paralyzed with shock to know if she was hurt or not.
    Before she could move, Mark was crouching at her side. “Shelly? Are you all right?”
    “I…don’t know.” Carefully she flexed one arm and then the other. Sitting up, she tested each leg and didn’t feel pain there, either. Apparently she’d survived the experience unscathed.
    “You crazy fool!” he yelled, leaping to his feet. “What are you trying to do, kill yourself?”
    “Ah…” It was painful to breathe, otherwise she would’ve answered him.
    “Can you imagine what I thought when I saw you flying through the air like that?”
    “Good riddance?” she suggested.
    Mark closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m in no mood for your jokes. Here, let me help you up.” He moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and gently raising her.
    “I’m fine,” she protested the instant his arms surrounded her. The blood rushed to her head, but Shelly didn’t know if that was because of her tumble or because Mark was holding her. Even when she was on her feet, he didn’t release her.
    “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
    Shelly nodded, not trusting her voice. “I’m less confident about the moped, though.” Her bike seemed to be in worse shape than she was.
    “It doesn’t look good to me, either,” Mark said. He finally dropped his arms and retrieved the moped, which was lying on its side, the waves lapping over it. There were regular hissing sounds as the cold water splashed against the heated muffler. Steam rose from the engine.
    Mark did his best to start the bike, but to no avail. “I’m afraid it’s hopelessly wet. It won’t start now until it’s had a chance to dry. A mechanic should check it over to be sure nothing’s wrong.”
    Shelly agreed. There was no help for it; she was going to have to walk the bike back to the rental shop.No small feat when she considered she was about three miles down the beach.
    “Thank you very much for stopping,” she said a bit primly. “But as you can see I’m not hurt….”
    “What do you think you’re