A Match for Celia

“No. Is that a bathing-suit strap peeking out of the neckline of your T-shirt?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Want to swim?”

She glanced at his shirt and jeans. “You’re hardly dressed for it.”

In answer, he stood, kicked off his shoes and peeled off his shirt and jeans, revealing brief black swim trunks beneath. “Race you to the water,” he said, and loped toward the surf.

Celia was left lying beneath the umbrella, her mouth open, her eyes wide.

For an accountant, she thought dazedly, Reed Hollander had one hell of a great body.

The water was cool, she discovered when she waded into the lapping waves until the water reached her knees. Reed was already some distance out, swimming steadily. He motioned for her to join her.

Celia hadn’t mentioned it to him, but she’d never been swimming in saltwater before. She’d waded into plenty of freshwater lakes and creeks back home, had her toes nibbled by fish and turtles, dodged a water snake or two—but those were familiar creatures. She knew nothing about saltwater creatures, except what she’d read.

She pictured crabs and stingrays and jellyfish and fish with sharp teeth. She knew all of them were native to this area. Did they come this close to shore?

The sand shifted beneath her feet with another wave and she stumbled for balance. Her right foot came down on something hard. Something that moved. She squealed and jumped.

Reed was at her side instantly. “What is it?”

“I think I stepped on a crab.”

He relaxed. “Hermit crab, probably. They’re harmless.”

“Oh.” She minced cautiously a few feet deeper, letting the water lap at the bottom of her scarlet maillot. And then she stopped again. “Reed?”

He was watching her with an odd light in his hazel eyes. “Yeah?”

“Are there…er…sharks or anything around here?”

He laughed.

She scowled at him and planted her fists on her hips. “Don’t laugh at me.”

He motioned some distance down the beach, to a family of four or five kids who were splashing through the water like playful dolphins, while their parents watched closely from the sand. “Would those people let their kids swim out here if there were sharks?”

Feeling stupid, Celia shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He shook his head. “Don’t tell me this is your first time all week to come out to the water.”

“Well, yes,” she admitted. “I’ve been swimming in the pool.”

“You can swim in a pool back home in Arkansas,” he teased, tugging at her hair. “You really aren’t the adventurous type, are you, Celia?”

She sighed deeply. “I’m trying to be,” she reminded him.

His sudden grin was positively wicked. She didn’t have time to interpret it.

A moment later, she was underwater, having been bodily lifted and tossed lightly into a cresting wave.

She came up spitting salt and blinking furiously, her eyes stinging from the unfamiliar grittiness of the water. “Reed!” she wailed, slinging wet hair out of her face. “That was a really lousy thing to do.”

He was still laughing. “Just trying to be of service, ma’am,” he drawled. “You can’t be adventurous half an inch at a time.”

Her open palm hit the water at a slashing angle. His laugh turned to a sputter when the resulting stream hit him squarely in the face. And then he dove for her.