Lost in thought about the race and what a beautiful swim it must be, Minnow failed to notice the figure sitting in the back of a familiar boat until she passed right by it.
“Minnow?”
She turned. It was Luke, backlit by a hazy sun.
“Oh, hey.”
She kayaked over so she was alongside him.
“You look like a woman on a mission,” he said, eyes sweeping over her skin and causing a strange warmth.
“I wanted to explore a little, and it’s easier on this than a motorboat.”
Up close, she noticed he was trying to untie a long rope with big, strong hands.
“Even better, just swim. Or are you afraid of sharks?” he said, lifting a brow.
She didn’t laugh. “Ha. You’re funny. I did swim part of the way. It was like an aquarium.”
“You should see up north. Is that where you’re headed?”
“No real plans. What about you? Are you coming or going?”
He paused, fingering the rope, as though he had to think hard about his answer. Minnow tried to get a look at his bicep, searching for the tattoo, but it must have been on the other side.
“Just got in. I was thinking about going for a long swim,” he said, scanning the bay to the north. “Want to come?”
It almost felt as though he was testing her, and Minnow loved a good test. “Sure, let’s go.”
A wide, dazzling smile appeared on his face, dimples and all, melting something inside her. She watched as he strapped a dive knife to his leg, grabbed a mask and snorkel, peeled off his shirt and jumped in.
“No fins?” Minnow asked, when he came up for air.
“Nah, no need.”
He dunked under again and disappeared for a time, and Minnow joined him in the water. Swimming around large predatory sharks, she’d become accustomed to wearing fins, but if he was going finless, so would she. They swam across the bay, and the sandy ridges beneath lit up as the sun burned through the afternoon haze. Minnow had to work to keep up with Luke, who flutter-kicked with feet so big she understood why he didn’t need fins. Soon she fell behind and settled into her own pace.
When they reached the far point, Luke stopped and waited for her to catch up. Minnow observed him underwater as she approached, noting his complete ease and fluidity. As she got closer, the tattoo onhis shoulder and upper arm came into view. Red and black, it looked tribal, but it was hard to tell what it was. A fish? A whale? A shark?
When she reached him, she was breathing hard. “Are we training for the roughwater swim?”
“I am. What about you?”
“Really, you are? Is that what you’re doing here?”
As the words came out, she realized how much she hoped that that giant hook in his boat had nothing to do with sharks.
“I’ll probably do the race. Though I wouldn’t say I’m training. I would be out here even if there were no race.”
“You’re fast.”
“So are you.”
Minnow could swim for hours and hold her own against most, but Luke pierced the water like a dolphin.
“Not like you. Did you swim in college?” she asked.
“You could say that.”
