Leighanne Misra loved her new nighttime job. It was the perfect way to be alone, listen to music, and compose lyrics for the millions of songs she had in her head. She’d finished the lifeguard training last week and had worked out a schedule with the usual nighttime lifeguard/janitor. His wife recently had a baby, and he wanted to spend more time with them in the evenings. So sweet. She was more than happy to learn the ins and outs of the JCA. Don, the former night staff, said there was a man who came to swim late at night every now and then, but it was only a couple of times a week, and so far not one person had shown up while she was on duty.

Easiest job she’d ever had.

She kept her headphones on, emptying the trash in all the offices and wiping down the counters. She sang beneath her breath, bobbing to the rhythm of the new song she couldn’t get enough of. It was pure bliss. She entered the last office in the hallway near the pool, then made a beeline for the trash can and, when the beat dropped, did a little two-step. This music was tight. She seriously couldn’t wait to press repeat just to experience this moment in the track again and again. She turned to bring the can out to the larger one she pushed around on wheels, and screamed when she saw someone sitting at the desk, watching her with a big amused smile.

“Hi.” She saw his lips move but couldn’t’ hear him.

Oh right, her headphones.

Pulling the heavy high-quality tech off her ears, she waved and said, “Hi.”

“I always thought it was a stereotype that janitors danced and sang to the music they listened to as they cleaned at night.”

Leighanne had to smile at that, no matter how horrifically embarrassed she was by the situation. She’d taken this job to be alone, not to make a fool out of herself in front of handsome men in suits that looked way too expensive and out of place for the shabby JCA.

“Nah, we’re the most talented dancers.”

He quirked his head, not understanding.

She gestured toward the hallways. “Lots of empty, open space to practice without distraction.”

He grinned. She swallowed hard. His teeth were blindingly white, and the olive tone of his skin only made them stand out more.

“Ah. Are you a dancer?”

“No.”

“So you always had aspirations to be a nighttime janitor?”

“I’m also the lifeguard,” she said indignantly, hoping he wasn’t looking down at the honest profession. All those handsome features would be completely wasted if he turned out to be an asshole.

“Shouldn’t you be in there now?” He nodded toward the pool.

“No one is swimming, and when I’m doing the janitor rounds, people aren’t supposed to be in there.”

The man stood, smoothing out his tie and coming around the table. “You might want to check, as I’m pretty sure I heard a big splash a few minutes ago.”

“What?” She looked through the windows of his office into the large pool to see legs and arms flailing about as someone swam in the direction of the ladder. “Maybe they didn’t know to wait for me.”

“Possible. Should we go scold the person?”

“I can do it—oh my Jesus!”

The guy in the pool had just swum directly into the metal pole of the ladder, hitting his head. He was still now, no movement, no splashing.

Oh shit. He was dead. He could not be dead.

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.

Leighanne dashed out of the office, the guy in the suit hot on her tracks, and ran into the poolroom. She dived in, not bothering to take the janitor jumpsuit off beforehand. The man could be drowning.

It was only her first week, and she had a drowner!

Another splash echoed behind her. What the hell was Suit Guy doing?

She swam toward the body and pulled his face out of the water.

“Bring him this way,” Suit Guy called. He was in the water as well, holding the swimmer up by his other arm, his beautiful ensemble completely soaked with community-pool chlorine water.

“I’m the lifeguard here,” she gritted out, swimming to the edge of the pool, keeping the man’s head above water. Suit Guy clearly didn’t trust her enough to save Swimmer Man’s life. Typical.

“Where were you when he started swimming?”

Leighanne ignored the acerbic comment, attributing it to the stress of the moment. He hadn’t gone through exhaustive lifeguard training and been taught how to keep calm during these types of high-intensity moments. Which was exactly why he should have backed off the second she’d jumped into the pool.

They reached the ledge and worked together to pull the swimmer out of the water. It was subtle, but the stranger groaned. He was alive and breathing. No mouth-to-mouth necessary.

“Oh, thank Jesus,” Leighanne said, resting him on the ground, making sure to be gentle with his head.

“You get the mouth, and I’ll get the chest compressions.” Suit Guy linked his hands together in the proper form and prepared to use what looked like considerable muscles under all that wet material clinging to his body to start CPR.

“Stop!” Leighanne pushed his hands away before he could break the poor swimmer’s chest.

“We need to start CPR.” He looked astonished that she would choose not to save the swimmer’s life. Too bad he forgot to check for one key component before proceeding with the CPR.

“The guy is breathing.” She pointed at the clear rise and fall of the swimmer’s chest. “If you do CPR, you’ll make him barf and mostly likely break a rib or two. You’ve already completely soaked your fancy suit, and I don’t think you want to lose more money by paying for his medical bills.” She turned back to the swimmer. “Sir, can you hear me? What’s your name? Do you know where you are?”

The man’s chest and shoulders started to shake. He was probably in shock, having a reaction.

“Sir, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine.” She turned to her unwanted companion with an annoyed grunt. “Go get him some towels or blankets. I think he might be going into shock.”

Suit Guy didn’t listen. “I should stay in case you both need me. Should I call 911?” His face was scrunched as he stared at the swimmer, the strands of his wavy hair hanging limp or plastered around his head. Leighanne thought she might have to get him a blanket as well, the whole experience clearly too overwhelming for the civilian to handle.

“Sir.” Her voice was even and gentle, not wanting to startle him more than he already appeared. She needed to give him a task. That’s what she was supposed to do with onlookers of an incident, give them a task, make them feel useful. “Trust that I know he is okay. Will you please go get some towels for me while I check his head for injury?”

“No.”

She slapped the wet concrete. “Dude, I am the lifeguard here. I am the person trained in First Aid. You had no right jumping into the pool, with your freaking suit on no less. This is my job—” Leighanne looked down.

A sound was coming from the swimmer. A high-pitched, gasping sound. She thought she knew what it was, but she needed to check before she smacked the guy.

“Are you laughing?”

The drowner grinned broadly, clutching his forehead with both hands, his head still resting on the floor. She couldn’t tell for sure with the goggles on, but the way his expressive lips turned up at the corners definitely denoted mirth.

“You’re seriously laughing right now?”

He turned to his right, placing a hand on obstinate Suit Guy’s leg. This, for some reason, made him laugh harder.

“Sir, I think you’re in shock.”

“You—”A burst of laughter stopped him for a moment. “You jumped in the pool to save me with all your clothes on! My knight in shining armor.” He clutched his stomach now, the laughter echoing across the poolroom.

Suit Guy and Leighanne exchanged glances.

She was completely at a loss about what to do at that moment. However, knowing the swimmer was fine gave Leighanne a moment to sit back and look at the so-called knight in shining armor. He’d been attractive and composed back when he’d caught her dancing with her headphones on. He’d been in control then, smirking at her with the knowledge that he’d caught her doing something she found embarrassing.

Well, now the tables had turned.