As promised, a very short wait. Hoping you'll enjoy reading this bit as
much as I enjoyed writing it.
"Would you like to go check out the beach," Ian asked as they finished cleaning up after their snack.
"I'd love to," she replied. "I have to get some sunscreen on though. You should too."
"Yes," he agreed, looking down at his pale arms. "I tend to burn at the drop of a hat. Then it all peels and I'm white again."
"There's SPF 50 in the bathroom, you know," she said, grinning.
"As per my most specific request," he said, grinning back. They headed to the bathroom together, helping each other reach those spots you need a friend to get properly coated. Sara only used SPF15, since she didn't tend to burn often, and she really wanted to go back to work with a killer tan and make everyone, including Dante, jealous. Especially Dante. Sara put on a straw sun hat that almost suited her, the kind with a broad brim that don't quite look great on anyone except a grandma who has adorned it with a purple ribbon. Ian slipped on sandals, and they went out the door together.
Four houses over there was a path to the beach running along the wall of an RV park, and shortly they emerged onto the most beautiful crescent of pale sand and azure water Sara had ever seen in her life. The heat of the sun was gentled by a constant breeze from the ocean, and the white beach stretched in a graceful curve a mile and a half to a rocky point. The land rose to the north and south up hills covered in lush green growth, and behind them was a line of palm trees and the town's beachfront buildings. In front of them the ocean seemed to stretch out forever. There were a few people on the beach, and some rangy dogs chasing the crabs that scuttled across the sand, and the sound of children playing occasionally rose above the rush of the surf dashing up the sand and falling back.
"Wow," Sara finally said. "Its beautiful." She caught sight of a man out about fifty feet from shore doing something with a net. "What's he doing?"
"Diving for octopus," Ian replied. "They go out and drop a weight with a mesh bag tied to it, then dive down their line and use a hook to catch octopi and put them in their bags. They have to be careful because the bite of an octopus is poisonous, and even a small one can kill a grown man."
"Ick. I don't mind them catching squid because they aren't good for much else, and I like calamari," Sara said. "But an octopus is actually pretty smart, and they are basically gentle and shy."
"I tend to agree," Ian said, "but this is how he feeds his family."
They walked down the beach at the water line, the waves sometimes surging up as far as their knees. The water was surprisingly warm, and there were few shells or rocks. At the end of the beach there was a cliff wall that stretched upwards, and an outcropping of black rock that ran into the waves twenty feet or so, the waves dashing themselves against the end. There were little tide pools with small fish and crabs, and a stunning color collection of anemones. Around the other side the water ran all the way up to the cliff wall, then another beach further on up the coastline. Large scavenger birds circled in the sky, watching for dead fish to wash up on the shore. They began walking back, chatting about this or that thing they were seeing.
Halfway back to their starting point the wind gusted and blew Sara's hat off her head. She grabbed for it, but missed. She jumped for it at the same time Ian did, and they collided, falling to the sand in a tangled heap of limbs and bodies, the hat clutched in Ian's hand. A wave ran up over them and Sara exclaimed good-naturedly. Ian started laughing. They climbed to their feet, dripping wet. Sara's hair had come undone and the ends were sopping, but the rest was dry, and somehow her hat was too. Ian reached up and gently pushed a stray strand out of her face and placed the hat firmly back on her head. The look in his eyes was so tender Sara had trouble looking away, until another wave rushed up the beach to slap into their legs, and she staggered, nearly losing her balance. Ian reached out to steady her.
"So much for grace under pressure," she said wryly, laughing.
"You know," Ian mused, a slow, wicked grin growing on his face, "we're already wet…" Before she could react he swept her up in his strong arms and began wading out into the water. She shrieked and kicked her legs, holding her hat on with one hand. He stopped when he was waist-deep in the water.
"Ian, don't you dare," she warned. His grin widened. "What about my hat," she asked in a last futile attempt to dissuade him from dunking her.. He dropped her and snatched her hat from her head simultaneously. She landed in the water with a satisfying splash and came up sputtering, slinging water from her hair with a flip of her head, to find Ian standing there with a gleam in his eye, hands on his hips, grin on his lips, and her hat on his head. It looked so silly she burst out laughing, just before she ducked under the waves and pulled his legs out from under him. He went down with a satisfying splash and came up laughing to find her watching with a smile. He had the hat in his hand, dripping wet now.
"Wait here a moment," he said, and slogged out of the waves to carefully place her hat on a log to dry, weighting the edges with rocks so it wouldn't blow away, then dashed back, hitting the water in a flat dive that skimmed the sand beneath the water. Sara held her breath just in time as he pulled her under. The few people on the beach watched with great amusement the mighty water battle that ensued. Fifteen minutes later the two combatants sloshed out of the water to collapse on the log together next to Sara's hat, exhausted and happy. Sara leaned against Ian, her head on his shoulder, smiling as she stared out at the ocean and sky. He hesitated a moment, then carefully wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his strong fingers running gently over her wet hair. They sat like that for almost half an hour, just enjoying being there together.
"I think my hat is dry," she said finally. "Shall we go back?"
"As my lady wishes, he said teasingly, but the look in his eyes was solemn. As they headed back along the sand and up the path he dared to reach out and take her hand, and she laced her fingers through his and smiled up at him.
"Would you like to go check out the beach," Ian asked as they finished cleaning up after their snack.
"I'd love to," she replied. "I have to get some sunscreen on though. You should too."
"Yes," he agreed, looking down at his pale arms. "I tend to burn at the drop of a hat. Then it all peels and I'm white again."
"There's SPF 50 in the bathroom, you know," she said, grinning.
"As per my most specific request," he said, grinning back. They headed to the bathroom together, helping each other reach those spots you need a friend to get properly coated. Sara only used SPF15, since she didn't tend to burn often, and she really wanted to go back to work with a killer tan and make everyone, including Dante, jealous. Especially Dante. Sara put on a straw sun hat that almost suited her, the kind with a broad brim that don't quite look great on anyone except a grandma who has adorned it with a purple ribbon. Ian slipped on sandals, and they went out the door together.
Four houses over there was a path to the beach running along the wall of an RV park, and shortly they emerged onto the most beautiful crescent of pale sand and azure water Sara had ever seen in her life. The heat of the sun was gentled by a constant breeze from the ocean, and the white beach stretched in a graceful curve a mile and a half to a rocky point. The land rose to the north and south up hills covered in lush green growth, and behind them was a line of palm trees and the town's beachfront buildings. In front of them the ocean seemed to stretch out forever. There were a few people on the beach, and some rangy dogs chasing the crabs that scuttled across the sand, and the sound of children playing occasionally rose above the rush of the surf dashing up the sand and falling back.
"Wow," Sara finally said. "Its beautiful." She caught sight of a man out about fifty feet from shore doing something with a net. "What's he doing?"
"Diving for octopus," Ian replied. "They go out and drop a weight with a mesh bag tied to it, then dive down their line and use a hook to catch octopi and put them in their bags. They have to be careful because the bite of an octopus is poisonous, and even a small one can kill a grown man."
"Ick. I don't mind them catching squid because they aren't good for much else, and I like calamari," Sara said. "But an octopus is actually pretty smart, and they are basically gentle and shy."
"I tend to agree," Ian said, "but this is how he feeds his family."
They walked down the beach at the water line, the waves sometimes surging up as far as their knees. The water was surprisingly warm, and there were few shells or rocks. At the end of the beach there was a cliff wall that stretched upwards, and an outcropping of black rock that ran into the waves twenty feet or so, the waves dashing themselves against the end. There were little tide pools with small fish and crabs, and a stunning color collection of anemones. Around the other side the water ran all the way up to the cliff wall, then another beach further on up the coastline. Large scavenger birds circled in the sky, watching for dead fish to wash up on the shore. They began walking back, chatting about this or that thing they were seeing.
Halfway back to their starting point the wind gusted and blew Sara's hat off her head. She grabbed for it, but missed. She jumped for it at the same time Ian did, and they collided, falling to the sand in a tangled heap of limbs and bodies, the hat clutched in Ian's hand. A wave ran up over them and Sara exclaimed good-naturedly. Ian started laughing. They climbed to their feet, dripping wet. Sara's hair had come undone and the ends were sopping, but the rest was dry, and somehow her hat was too. Ian reached up and gently pushed a stray strand out of her face and placed the hat firmly back on her head. The look in his eyes was so tender Sara had trouble looking away, until another wave rushed up the beach to slap into their legs, and she staggered, nearly losing her balance. Ian reached out to steady her.
"So much for grace under pressure," she said wryly, laughing.
"You know," Ian mused, a slow, wicked grin growing on his face, "we're already wet…" Before she could react he swept her up in his strong arms and began wading out into the water. She shrieked and kicked her legs, holding her hat on with one hand. He stopped when he was waist-deep in the water.
"Ian, don't you dare," she warned. His grin widened. "What about my hat," she asked in a last futile attempt to dissuade him from dunking her.. He dropped her and snatched her hat from her head simultaneously. She landed in the water with a satisfying splash and came up sputtering, slinging water from her hair with a flip of her head, to find Ian standing there with a gleam in his eye, hands on his hips, grin on his lips, and her hat on his head. It looked so silly she burst out laughing, just before she ducked under the waves and pulled his legs out from under him. He went down with a satisfying splash and came up laughing to find her watching with a smile. He had the hat in his hand, dripping wet now.
"Wait here a moment," he said, and slogged out of the waves to carefully place her hat on a log to dry, weighting the edges with rocks so it wouldn't blow away, then dashed back, hitting the water in a flat dive that skimmed the sand beneath the water. Sara held her breath just in time as he pulled her under. The few people on the beach watched with great amusement the mighty water battle that ensued. Fifteen minutes later the two combatants sloshed out of the water to collapse on the log together next to Sara's hat, exhausted and happy. Sara leaned against Ian, her head on his shoulder, smiling as she stared out at the ocean and sky. He hesitated a moment, then carefully wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his strong fingers running gently over her wet hair. They sat like that for almost half an hour, just enjoying being there together.
"I think my hat is dry," she said finally. "Shall we go back?"
"As my lady wishes, he said teasingly, but the look in his eyes was solemn. As they headed back along the sand and up the path he dared to reach out and take her hand, and she laced her fingers through his and smiled up at him.
