I kick my sandals off so that I can feel the sand between my toes. I immediately regret it. The sand is hot as hell, and it feels like my feet are frying in a hot, sandy skillet. I shriek, bouncing from one foot to another, but it does nothing to ease the burning.
His eyebrows shoot up. “What’s wrong?”
“The sand! My feet!”
Without any more prompting than that, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me like a damsel in distress over a mountain of crunchy seaweed that was swept up onto the beach by the waves. On the other side of the seaweed, the sand is smooth and wet and cool. He sets me down, and I breathe a sigh of relief. My relief is short-lived when I realize he’s laughing at me. I try to shove his arm, but he dodges me.
“I don’t know why I thought I could walk barefoot on that sand. I should know better by now.”
“You were right about the seaweed,” he says, looking back at the mound that we crossed. “There’s a lot of it.”
“It didn’t used to be like this, from what I hear. I always thought the beaches here were supposed to be pretty, but there’s so much seaweed that it’s hard to enjoy the white-sand beaches the way they’re supposed to be enjoyed.”
“Maybe you should move to San Diego.”
“Oh really? Is that your way of trying to get rid of me?”
“Damn. You saw right through my plan.”
I elbow him in the ribs.
“If I was trying to get rid of you, I wouldn’t have knocked on your door and invited you to come to the beach with me.”
“Hmm. You got me there.”
“Come on. Let’s go for a swim,” he says.
I follow him into the water. I’m not a good swimmer, so I don’t go any deeper than my knees, but he takes my hand and pulls me into the deeper water until I can hardly feel the sand with my toes.
“How do you know there aren’t any sharks?” I ask.
“There could be, but we’ll be safe. Sharks prefer redheads. The color reminds them of blood.”
“What? I’m a redhead!”
He grabs onto a lock of my hair and examines it. “Damn. You are. Don’t worry, though. While the sharks are distracted with you, I’ll swim ashore and get help.”
“Oh, thanks a lot.” I grab onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders. “If they get me, then they’re getting you too.”
A wave splashes over both of our heads just then, knocking him off balance and sending us both underwater for a moment. When we come back up, my mouth and nose are full of salt water and my eyes are burning. I spit out the water and gasp for air. I feel his arms lock around me, his skin warm against the cold ocean water. A moment later, I can feel the sand underneath my feet again. He swam us back to the beach. I head for my shirt and use it to wipe my eyes. When my eyes are no longer burning, and I can look at him again, I see that he’s laughing at me.
“That’s why I don’t go any deeper than my knees,” I say.
“What? Can’t handle a little salt water in your eyes?”
“No. It burned. How are you okay?”
He shrugs. “I used to swim in the ocean all the time. I got used to the salt water.”
“Seriously? I thought you said you’ve never been to the beach.”
“I practically grew up on the beach,” he says. “Just not this beach.”
“Oh. And here I thought I was taking your beach virginity.”
He laughs. “Not even close.”
I sit down in the sand, just close enough to the water that the waves splash over my feet. He sits down next to me.
