Skinny Dipping Read Online Free PDF Page B

appeared scared; rather, she seemed flustered and, after she hit her head, pissed off. Followed by extremely embarrassed.
    She’d probably strayed off the grounds of some sort of local cult, a cult that worshipped nudity and mud and…twigs.
    Crap.
    If there was a cult up here he hoped to God Prescott wasn’t involved in it, but that hope was faint. No one was riper for cult picking than Prescott: wealthy, socially awkward, defensive, and pathetically eager for admission to any group. Even twig worshippers. Joe was prepared to do a lot for the sake of their relationship, but he drew the line at twig worship.
    All these thoughts zipped through Joe’s mind in a matter of seconds and were interrupted by a female cry rising above the sound of crashing in the underbrush. This was followed by a string of colorful and anatomically specific invectives. She must have hurt herself and might need help. Joe, as incapable of leaving a situation that needed attending unattended as he was of breathing underwater, walked to the edge of the woods. “Are you all right?”
    There was a long pause, then a grudgingly relayed, “I’ve got a mother of a thorn in my foot.”
    Joe carefully parted the top of the shrub in front of him. Ten feet into the woods he saw the woman hunkered amidst a thick undergrowth of plants that hid most of her bottom half. She was holding her foot in both hands.
    “Want me to take a look?” he asked.
    “No!” She hunched down further in the weed patch. “You scared me,” she went on accusingly. “I didn’t think there was anyone near that car—Hey! Do not look at me! I’m naked. Geez!”
    He turned around and considered asking her why, if she didn’t want anyone to see her naked, she had shed all her clothing, but something in her tone argued against this.
    Perhaps she wasn’t part of a cult, simply mentally unbalanced. She didn’t sound particularly loony, but his experience was admittedly limited.
    “I’m sorry,” he said soothingly, just in case she was crazy. “I was changing a tire.”
    “Oh.”
    “Are you in some sort of difficulty?” he asked, keeping his voice mild.
    “I would think that’s pretty obvious,” she snapped. “Yes, I am. I don’t have any clothes and I am supposed to be at a picnic on the beach down there.”
    He assumed she was pointing. He waited.
    “I was skinny-dipping and my suit fell into the lake and I couldn’t find it so I swam to shore where there were no people hanging around and came up through the woods.”
    “I see.”
    “I was hoping ,” she went on accusingly, “that I’d find a blanket in your car so I wouldn’t have to march through a crowd like this.”
    “That’s certainly reasonable.” He supposed. “And all the muck and weeds and things stuck to you?”
    “It’s a mucky lake,” she replied coolly.
    Okay, maybe she wasn’t nutty. “How can I help?”
    “ Do you have a blanket in your car?”
    “It’s not my car; it’s a rental, so I don’t know.”
    “A northern Minnesota rental,” she said. “It’ll have a blanket in the trunk. If you could get it for me?”
    “Of course.” He suited action to words, returning to the car and popping the trunk open. Sure enough, folded neatly behind the rear seats was an old polyester stadium blanket. He shook it out, grimacing as dust exploded from it and wondering what antique bacteria was at that moment taking root in his lungs. Joe admitted that at times he was a little overly “health conscious.” Now was not one of those times.
    He returned to the woods in time to hear another sharp yelp, some sniffs, and then—She was crying. Concerned, he pushed his way through the brush toward her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
    “Don’t look!”
    He snatched the blanket up in front of his face, silently consigning her back to the unbalanced side of the population. “Listen,” he said, losing patience. “I’ve seen naked women before. You’re hurt and you need help. Given the