“Wait.” The puzzle pieces click into place. “Caleb.” Her thoughts flip back to yesterday. The easy charm. The way he helped convince her to come here in the first place. “From the rental agency?”
“That’s me.” He squints as a thought assembles in his mind. “Oh, hang on. Grace.” He nods toward the dune. “Number 116, right?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Boy.” He laughs. “You reallyhaven’tbeen down here in a while, huh?” He enjoys another sip. “Seeing as you forgot how fast those tide pools can disappear.”
“Trust me.” She sets her can down in the sand. “I will be reliving—and cringing at—that little mishap for the rest of my life.” Grace finger-combs her wet hair. “Dare I ask how long I was asleep out there?”
“I’d say I stood here and laughed for a solid half hour.” Caleb grins. “Maybe more.”
She covers her face with a hand.
“Don’t worry.” He smirks. “I wouldn’t have let you get washed away out there.”
A breeze blows off the water, sending goose bumps across Grace’s skin. “So do you live down here or something?”
“Unfortunately for me, I live inland and go back and forth a lot for work. Bridge traffic’s a real treat.” His fishing rod curves, the line tightening. “My folks own the agency. I’ve been helping them out the last few months, though I haven’t made any big moves to make this my permanent zip code yet.” He winds the spool. “This week, though, I’m a renter, same as you.” With a tug, his line emerges from the darkening water. “I’m the pink house on the dune.” He narrows his eyes, investigating the bare hook as it swoops over the sand. “Lucky me. Looks like I caught another ghost fish.”
Grace laughs, takes a fast peek around. The sky is changing, the light settling into dusk. “Well, thanks for the help.” She pulls away her towel, prepared to fold it up and pass it back.
“Don’t be silly.” Caleb stops her. “Hang on to it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know where you’re staying.” His smile lingers. “I suspect we’ll cross paths again.”
Grateful not to walk back in her bikini, Grace drapes herself up in the warm terrycloth, then squeezes dampness from her hair. As she does, her hands absently trail past her ear, down her neck, and—
She freezes. Then gasps. “Oh no.”
Frantic, her fingers fly to her throat.No, no. She pats her bare collarbone, willing it to be there. Hoping she missed it.Please. Please. But it isn’t. A sharp, sick panic swells inside her, tightening like a clenched fist in her core. Her necklace. Birdie’s birthday gift to Grace when she was a teenager. Her name, shaped in delicate gold. The nameplate she almost never took off. She presses her chest harder, as if she’s able to will it to return. But it’s too late. It’s already gone.
“What?” Caleb releases his fishing line, instantly back in rescue mode. “What is it?”
“My necklace.” Her stomach plummets as if she might get sick. “I lost it!” She drops to her knees and sifts through the sand, desperate for a quick glint of metal. “I can’t believe this!” Grace smacks at her sternum, like she’s mistaken things, as if maybe she’s imagined it. “IknewI shouldn’t have come here.” Her fingers continue to pat her salt-marked skin, the space achingly empty, as though an actual piece of her body has been taken. “I should have listened to my gut and stayed home.” Emotion burns her throat. “This trip. I knew it was a mistake.”
“It’s okay.” Caleb, fueled by a new sense of urgency, crouches next to her. “We’ll find it.”
But there’s nothing.
After a few more frantic minutes, Grace officially calls off the search.
“You’resureyou had it on when you walked down here?” Caleb asks, still looking.
“I’m certain. I almost never take it off.” Tears cling to her bottom lashes. “I must have lost it out there.” She looks at the place that waspreviously a sandbar, the water now nothing but rolling waves. “And if that’s the case—which I’m sure it is—I’ll never find it.”
Caleb continues to dig. “I’m assuming it was something special?”
Grace bites her lip to stop it from quivering. “It wasn’t expensive, if that’s what you mean,” she explains, trying not to cry. “I-I’ve just had it forever. It was important to me.”
Caleb stands, claps sand from his hands. “You’ll find it,” he states, like it’s a fact.
“Thanks.” Grace sighs, already accepting that it’s gone for good. “But I doubt it.”
“You’d be surprised.” Caleb’s tone, previously playful, softens. “A few summers ago, I lost a pair of brand-new sunglasses out there. Three days later, they washed right up at my feet.”
“That’s not a real story.”
