Sanctuary Island by Lily Everett

“I’m just here to help, ma’am. We’ll have you out of there in a jiff. I know it’s hard, but keep calm and breathe deep for me.”
    She’d gone straight through, all right. Squinting into the dusty blackness of the area under the house, Grady could see that her right leg was dangling, toes barely brushing the dirt foundation. Which meant all her weight was on her other leg, bent and folded under her, and supported by her hands pressed against the splintering floorboards.
    Ella sucked in an audible breath, making Grady’s gaze swivel to her pink cheeks and downcast eyes.
    He’d knelt beside her without thinking about anything more than getting the lay of the land, but the position had him snugged up next to her so tight that when she took another deep inhale, the expansion of her rib cage brushed her shoulder against his hip.
    “You’re right,” she said, still sounding a little choked. “I’m sorry, and thank you for coming so quickly. I do appreciate it. This is just … not how I thought today would go.”
    That makes two of us, sweetheart.
    Clearing his throat, Grady did his level best to ignore the spine-tingling awareness of her slim body, so close at hand that his fingers buzzed with the need to reach out and shape her curves from hip to waist to breast.
    He also had to ignore the fact that, very shortly, he would be putting his hands on her, to pull her out of the porch. And when that happened, he’d have to dig deep for every ounce of focus his training had ever imparted to keep from getting distracted by the softness of her smooth, pearly skin.
    Grady shook his head to dislodge the searingly persistent images. “How did this even happen? Taylor was pretty vague on the phone.”
    “Right, of course you know Taylor. This is one of those Mayberry-type places where everyone knows everyone else, isn’t it?”
    She was starting to steady herself, Grady noted, her deep breathing doing its job of distracting her from the fact that she was trapped. To keep it going while he figured the best way out of this fix, Grady absently started up a light, distracting patter. “Well, yeah. But in this case, we happen to be cousins. I’ve known Taylor since she was born, and your mom has known her almost as long. She’s … a close friend of the family, almost like a mother to Tay, since my aunt died when Taylor was five.”
    It occurred to him even as the words flew out of his mouth that maybe talking up Ella’s estranged mother’s close maternalesque relationship with another girl might qualify as sticking his foot in it.
    So he was watching closely enough to catch the quick shiver of a flinch in Ella’s frame, even though she rolled her shoulders and got rid of it almost immediately. And her voice was soft and mostly neutral when she replied, “I see. That explains … a lot.”
    Narrowing his eyes, Grady stood and propped his hands on his hips. “Wait. Exactly how did you manage to fall through this porch?”
    Ella tilted her head back, soft waves of dark hair cascading over the shoulders of her bright green sweater. She looked him straight in the eye and said, “It was an accident. Can you get me out, please?”
    There was more to this story, he knew it, but he was distracted from ferreting out the whole truth by the white-knuckled tension of her fingers pressed against the floorboards. He frowned. That could be from the awkwardness of this whole conversation … or it could be an indicator of pain. “You really didn’t answer me before, when I asked if you were okay.”
    “Aside from being stuck in a porch, I’m fine,” she said, firm and no-nonsense. “But I’d like to get out of here, preferably before anyone else sees me like this.”
    She was lying. Grady knew the look of pain—intimately—and the fine lines bracketing her mouth, the stiff way she held herself, told him there was more going on than she was saying.
    Her leg was hurting her, he’d be willing to bet on it, but she