“Just okay, huh?” he finally asked.

She forced a casual shrug. “It was . . . fine.”

He laughed again. And dammit, he was one hot son of a bitch. “I’m going to make you take that back,” he said, voice like sex on a stick.

So much for sweet and gentle.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I’ve got you,” he repeated softly.

Yeah, he kept saying that. And she wanted to believe him, but she was short on trust at the best of times, which this most definitely was not. “Are we going to leave the cove?”

“Only if you want to, but I suggest yes.”

She bit her lower lip.

“Piper.” His voice was terrifyingly kind. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ve got life vests. I’ve pulled one out for you. See?” He lifted one for her perusal. “You can wear it the whole time.”

She gave a jerky nod. “Thanks. But that feels . . . lame.”

“It’s not lame. Not even a little bit.”

“I seriously don’t think I even remember how to swim.”

“You’re not going into the water,” he said.

“You don’t know that. A catastrophe could happen.”

“Such as?”

“A big storm could hit and capsize us,” she said, eyeing the cloudless sky.

“Been there, done that, wrote the training manual on how to keep everyone alive,” he said very seriously.

She stared at him. “I’m not sure if you’re kidding or not.”

“Kidding about the manual, not kidding about keeping people alive.”

“You’ve saved someone from drowning before?”

“Seen a guy do it once or twice.”

She realized how dumb her question had been. “You probably have a lot of stories to tell.”

Instead of answering, he jumped onboard—without letting go of her hand, she noted. Apparently he recognized a flight risk when he saw one. Turning back, he waited for her to join him.

“Can you tell me any of your stories?” she asked.

He looked surprised by her interest. “I can’t give specifics, but there was one time when my unit saved a hundred-plus people who were stranded in cold, frigid waters, and no one had a door to cling to.”

She blinked. “Did you just make a Titanic reference?”

“Yes.”

“There was room for two people on that door, Cam.”

He smiled. “We got everyone back on shore safe and accounted for. Didn’t leave a soul out there, door or not. Does that help?”

“How many times have you done something like that?”

He shrugged.

“So, like, more than . . . ten?”

“Yes.”

“How many more?”

“Too many to count,” he said, still with the laid-back voice, no sense of growing impatience. And she realized he wasn’t putting on an act. This was him: calm, stoic, steady as a rock. Period. He wouldn’t fail her, he wouldn’t abandon her, and he wouldn’t turn his back on her.