I side-tackled Finley, taking her down in a mess of knees and elbows, and used my momentum to roll with my arms around her. As the sky filled my vision, so did the falling hunk of death, and I threw everything I had into the move.

Keep her on the bottom!

I landed on top, curving myself around her as much as possible. The object slammed into the ground with a booming thud in the same millisecond.

Sand and rocks blasted the side of my face.

My heart slammed against my ribs, the beat deafening.

“Finley! Morgan!”

I could hear the panic in Jackson’s voice, so I wasn’t dead. Right? And Finley was breathing under me, so she wasn’t, either.

“Oh, thank God!” Jackson shouted, skidding to a halt next to us and hitting his knees. “Are you okay?”

Words wouldn’t form, so I nodded.

“I’m okay,” Finley announced, her voice muffled under me.

She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay. I fell to the side, taking my weight off Fin, and Jackson immediately grabbed her to his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, pushing her to arm’s length, looking her over for injuries.

I sat up slowly as workers and Fin’s grandmother came running.

The weathervane I’d been so damned insistent about had fallen from the roof. God, it was huge.

“I’m fine!” Finley promised.

It had landed right where we’d been a second ago, the enormous arrow stabbing through the edge of the blanket and pinning the fabric to the ground.

“Are you sure?” Jackson’s hands ran down her limbs quickly, no doubt checking for broken bones.

Someone helped me to my feet, and I wavered, my heart galloping. Feeling something wet streak my face, I stumbled away from the group. Of all the times to cry!

I made it as far as the base of my temporary steps before I was engulfed in a pair of arms and pressed against a firm, warm chest. The amazing combination of ocean, lemongrass, and soap filled my lungs as I breathed him in.

Jackson.

“Please tell me you’re okay,” he begged, his chin resting on the top of my head.

“I’m…f-f-f,” I stammered, my knees starting to shake. What the hell was wrong with me?

He pulled back, wincing at something he saw on my face and then scanning down my body. “Are you injured?”

I shook my head.

“Tell me if anything else hurts.”

Anything else?

His hands swept down my arms, then my ribs just under my breasts, over my belly, and then framed my hips, his eyes locking with mine every few seconds to see if I’d flinch.

Then he did the same from midthigh to my ankles. “No pain?”

I shook my head. “I’m f-f-fine,” I managed to get out.