“Wind under the houses. Sand against lattice. Palm fronds on roofs. Dock lines hitting masts. Raccoons in places they have no business being.”
“Raccoons?”
“Bold ones.”
That gets another small smile from her.
“Good to know. I’ll add criminal raccoons to my list of beach concerns.”
“You have a list?”
“I’m organized.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It can be.”
The conversation should stay light. I know that. She’s a stranger on a beach, and I am a man with enough awareness to know when not to crowd a woman who is collecting shells. But something about her pulls at me.
“You picked a good stretch,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Quieter than the public beach. Most mornings, it’s just fishermen, runners, and shell hunters.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“It usually is.”
“Usually?”
I nod toward the water. “Summer triples the population. People forget the island is still a real place underneath the vacation version. They wander where they shouldn’t, drink more than they should, lose things, find trouble.”
“That sounds like experience talking.”
“Some.”
“Are you a fisherman or a philosopher?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
She laughs softly, and for half a second she looks almost easy. Then a dog barks somewhere beyond the dunes. She flinches. Her hand closes around the shells so quickly one of them drops into the wet sand.
I don’t move toward her. Every protective instinct in me wants to. Every trained instinct tells me not to.
“You okay?” I ask.
She bends to pick up the shell, buying herself a second. “Yes. Sorry. I’m still waking up.”
Another answer that isn’t quite true.
When she straightens, the wind presses her swimsuit cover, thin and white and mostly useless against the breeze, against her hip. She holds my gaze for a moment through the dark lenses, then looks toward the water.
“I should get back,” she says.
I nod once. “Tide’s coming in. If you want shells, go south toward the point after low tide. Better finds there.”
“South toward the point,” she repeats. “Got it.”
“And watch the soft sand near the dunes. It drops off in places.”
“More local wisdom?”
