Ashley adjusted her ponytail and tugged her sun hat snug against the sea breeze. A light wash of clouds barely covered the sky, and at late morning the beach was already hot, the heat reflecting from the sand contrasting deliciously with the cool air washing in from the ocean.
She stepped down off the beach house deck, drawn by the waves. Once the soft, hot sand gave way to the packed surface of the tidal zone, she kicked off her sandals and skipped down to the water.
Cool wavelets lapped her feet. She closed her eyes, remembering another beach, other waves that had washed her clean of darkness, pain, and fear.
As if conjured by her memory, Leon said her name and touched her arm. Ashley yipped in surprise and then turned to him, laughing. "I didn't hear you."
He grinned and tipped back her sun hat to kiss her. "You look cute," he said.
Ashley smiled, gratified. She had ordered six different swimsuits, and finally settled on this sporty apricot two-piece as the right combination of sexy and practical (after all, Leon was going to throw her over his shoulder and dunk her at some point, she was sure).
As Leon drew back, Ashley saw what he was wearing: board shorts in a brilliant salmon and lime hibiscus print, and a heather grey rash guard that covered him from wrists to neck.
She snorted. He looked so dorky, and it was adorable.
"What?" He smiled, amused by her. "Shorts too loud? It's the beach."
"Yeah, it's the beach, not the South Pole." What was the point of hiding his impressive physique? Ashley flushed, a new thought occurring to her: she'd seen the scars that criss-crossed Leon's skin. She didn't mind those marks, but she could understand if they bothered him. "I'm sorry, Leon. You look good," she said, the teasing gone from her voice.
"Oh?" he prompted, clearly perplexed by her change of manner.
"Um . . ." Her face still felt warm. "I don't care about your scars. I think they're beautiful. I mean, they don't make you less—" She stopped, too embarrassed to conclude this confession.
"Oh-h." Leon flicked hair out of his eyes and jammed a baseball cap on his head. His cheeks betrayed a hint of red, too. "I just can't take the sun. I'll be a lobster by noon."
Ashley giggled. "Really?"
"Yep." He smirked at her. "But I'll remember what you said. You think I'm beauti—"
"Leon!" Ashley slapped a hand over his mouth. "It's true, but you're embarrassing me."
"Good." He tipped her sun hat off with the bill of his cap, and she barely caught it before it hit the water. "You're beautiful when your face is red. Unlike me."
She beamed, as happy as she was self-conscious. "Shut up, Leon," she said, lifting her hand again, but he caught her wrist before she could smother him.
"Hey, that was a compliment," he said, teasingly triumphant. "Don't you want to hear how pretty you are when you're—"
Ashley took the only option left to her and stopped his mouth with her lips.