Jesse was drinking a bottle of Coca-Cola when he first saw the girl. Like a beautiful ghost, she glided out to the end of the pier, her long blonde hair flying behind her. He sat a little straighter when she began undressing. Jesse’s pulse picked up a beat.
At first, he’d figured she was just some tourist intrigued by the island and the water at night. But he caught the hint of something different about her, an intensity, a purpose. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but she certainly held his interest, especially now that she was stripped down to her bikini.
The swimwear showed off her long legs and a tiny waist. She took care situating her clothes, her body folding at the hips like a dancer to place the garments on her shoes. “Something’s wrong about this,” he muttered under his breath. She was all alone at midnight, getting ready to do what, exactly?
Jesse’s heart pounded as he stood up. Determination—and a bit of apprehension—propelled him onto the beach, his mind trying to fill in the blanks and wondering how a pretty girl would feel about being approached at midnight by a stranger. Maybe she had plans to meet someone out there on the pier—a moonlit swim for two teen lovers. Then she leaped off the end of the pier into the water, her hair trailing her thin body like ribbons behind a kite. Jesse broke into a run. This wasn’t swimming. No, not swimming. The splash echoed over the quiet beach. Jesse weighed his options. Swim out or run to the end of the pier and jump in. Swim. He raced out as far into the surf as he could go, then swam with all his might using the weathered posts as a guide.
He found her holding onto one of the pier’s pilings as he rounded the end of the dock. Her eyes were wide with fright, and her hair floated around her like sheets on a clothesline on a windy day. She kicked her legs to the side, her features suffused with terror.
“I got you,” he said, swimming closer.
She started to reach for him, but a rogue wave hit them full force. She gripped the rotting pier post tighter. A sound, something between a sob and a scream came from her mouth.
A thin ribbon of blood threaded its way into the lamp light.
Her eyes flashed to his, a silent question about how she’d managed to get cut floated to him.
“Barnacles are sharp as razors. The posts are covered in them.”
Her gaze darted to the post, legs kicking behind her.
“How ’bout I help you get out of the water? Predators feed at night.”
She glanced around her midsection as if sharks would materialize at his words.
Jesse reached a hand to her. “Best we get you to shore. I swear you’re safe with me.” A fifteen-foot hammerhead had been caught off that pier not more than a year before. He wouldn’t mention that.
He kept his eyes on hers. They were beautiful eyes. He expected they’d be a different color in the daylight, brighter maybe. But the shape, the layers of lashes, the perfect placement on a delicate face, all of that would remain. In fact, she was the most stunning girl he’d ever seen even if she was drenched. His hand was still outstretched when he said, “I’m Jesse. I live over on Bayside. If you’re new to the island, Bayside is the bay side of the island.” He smiled trying to put her at ease, hoping to dilute her terror.
“I’m Olivia,” she whispered and reached for him.
Blood ran down her arm. Still, she kept her grip on the pier with her other hand. He gave her a gentle tug and met resistance. “Olivia, I’m not a coward, but I’d rather not have to fend off hungry sharks. How about you let go, and I’ll lead us back to shore?” He kept his voice calm.
With a tiny nod, Olivia slipped away from the pier, her small hand in his strong one. Together, they made their way out of the dark water and onto the beach.
He guided her to the surf shop. Once he had her settled, he ran back and retrieved her clothing. She was shivering by the time he made it back to her, looking small there on the beach chair, her legs drawn to her chest.
She took her things from him, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. His T-shirt and shorts were soaked, and the chill of the night forced itself on him.
“You’re cold,” Olivia whispered, glancing up. “I’m sorry you had to come in after me.”
“I’m fine.” He lowered himself onto the chair beside her. “Why were you out there?”
She turned away as she pulled her blouse over her delicate shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” Then he remembered the stash of beach towels Owen rented to unprepared tourists. The narrow box was supposed to have a lock on it, but Owen usually forgot. “Good news,” Jesse said as he opened the top and reached inside. “Warm towels.”
She looked back at him. “How are they warm?”
“Oh,” he said. “I just mean they’re dry and warmer than the night air.” He draped the towel around her, and a tiny smile appeared and lit her features.
She continued to shiver, so Jesse started at her ankles and tucked another towel around her legs, stopping mid-thigh careful not to get too close to her hips. “Better?”
“My brothers made me do it.” Olivia’s gaze turned to him.
Anger welled up in Jesse. “Your brothers told you to come out here tonight?”
She shook her head. The wind had plastered much of her hair to her face, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. “No. They’d kill me if they knew I was out here. They just always torture me about being scared of the ocean. I read where the best way to overcome fear was to face it head on. Run to the roar. I thought I had a good plan, hightide and no people to see me if I made a fool of myself, which I did.”
Jesse sank onto the chair beside her again. “I gotta tell ya.” He shook his head. “A girl who goes swimming at night in shark infested waters is fearless.”
Her eyes widened. “Shark infested? You sound like my brothers.”
“Oops, sorry.” He grinned. “Changing the subject ... how’s your arm?”
She slid it out from under the towel and turned it over. “Okay. No worse than cat scratches. It stings like cat scratches.”
He reached over and examined the long cut. “It’s not deep, but barnacles are germy. You’ll want to clean it out as soon as you get home. And speaking of that, it’s late. I can walk you home. Where are you staying?”
“Where am I staying? How do you know I don’t live here?”
Jesse raised his brows. “No one as pretty as you lives on the island. I’d have noticed.”
She angled to look at him. “How do you know you haven’t seen me and just forgot?”
His eyes met hers and held. “I’d remember you, Olivia.”
A crimson stain appeared across Olivia’s cheeks. “I admit I do spend most of my time at home and on the beach near the house where my family is staying. But I ride my bike into town to the library pretty often.” She shrugged. “Yeah,” she sighed. “I’m pretty boring.”
“Boring?” Jesse gestured wide. “This is the most interesting, not to mention unusual, blind date I’ve ever been on.” They both laughed.
Jesse draped the towel around his shoulders, shawl like, to ward off the chill. “Shall we go?” he said.
“Okay,” I have to get my bike at the pier.”