Olive watched. He turned the bucket over and lifted it, revealing a squat, imperfect tower.
Her eyes flickered with interest.
She grabbed her own bucket and knelt, copying him with intense concentration. Sand spilled everywhere. She tried again and again, refusing assistance with just a shake of her head. When her tower finally held—after many failed attempts—she stared at it as though she’d summoned it by magic.
“You’re an architect,” Tessa murmured.
Olive didn’t say a word or smile.
As the sun crossed over the sand, Dusty and Olive stayed hard at work—proving they both had shockingly long attention spans. They scooped and dumped like a two-person construction crew.
Tessa tugged on her brimmed hat and watched from behind her sunglasses, her attention equally divided between the unexpectedly enthusiastic man and the incredibly focused little girl.
Before too long, three small towers appeared, each surviving Olive’s constant poking. She dug while Dusty shaped the tops to look more castle-like.
He formed a small mound beside one tower. “This can be the door.”
Olive flattened the hill with the shovel.
“Okay,” Dusty said. “No door.”
She dug faster, working on the next tower.
Tessa watched Dusty closely, taking in his strong, sandy hands, the way he kneeled comfortably under a blistering sun, his ability to meet this frightened child exactly where she was.
For reasons she didn’t really understand, it was probably the single most attractive side of him she’d ever seen. And he had many.
Tessa scooted closer, careful not to crowd. She picked up a shell and set it near the evolving castle.
Olive took it and pressed it onto a tower. Then she looked up at Tessa with bright eyes, the first real reaction she’d shown all day.
“It’s like jewelry!” Tessa said. “Can’t have too much of that. I’ll find more jewels for your tower, milady!”
While Olive worked on the next bucket, Tessa found shells and laid them in little piles to let Olive select which she wanted and where they should go. Giving her control, Tessa thought proudly.
Wordlessly—of course—Olive started placing them on the towers—well, sticking them randomly all over the place. She abandoned all construction in lieu of decorating, which Tessa praised to the skies.
Oh, this is perfect, Olive Oyl!
Look at that placement, sweetheart!
Fit for a princess!
Each lavish compliment got a glance in response, but that was all. While they worked, Dusty looked mildly amused, and Tessa intentionally let Olive make every decision.
Just as she finished the shells, a tiny sand crab skittered from a hole near the moat Dusty had created.
Olive froze, then leaned closer, eyes wide. Her mouth…almost moved. A word rose up, but then she clamped her tiny lips together and watched the crab in wonder until he vanished back into the sand.
“Bye-bye, Mr. Crab,” Tessa sang playfully.
Olive pressed her lips together as if she was about to say “Bye” but then she reached for a pretty pink shell. Carefully, she placed it over the hole and looked up at Tessa with an expectant gaze.
“How sweet, Olive. We love Mr. Crab,” Tessa said, forming heart hands over her chest.
Olive stared at her, at her hands, and then made a circle with hers in an attempt to make the same heart.
“Olive!” Tessa cooed as if she’d proved the theory of relativity. “You’re so smart!”
