Chapter 18
18
B ack at his apartment, Grant paced around his kitchen island, his thoughts tumbling in all directions.
The third date had been going so well. They’d joked and shared stories. She’d fed him a California roll, shared personal information about herself, and had felt comfortable enough around him even to take a nap. He would have stayed on that beach till he mummified if it meant getting to watch Sadie Heppner sleep. Her torso rising and falling with each slow intake and release, her gently twitching toes, her dozy murmurs—like watching a napping angel. The urge to reach out and stroke her hair, curl up behind her, place his arm over her protectively, and pull her to him had nearly gotten the best of him.
But it hadn’t. He’d simply watched her as he thought about the thing she’d said, the thing he’d been dying to know, the reason she disliked him.
He'd thought about it, that is, until he heard the scream. Given the increasing swell of the ocean, he probably had his ears perked for it. Years as a teenage lifeguard at the local swimming lake had ingrained certain sounds into him, including the cry of someone in trouble.
He said nothing to Sadie as he scooted quietly off the blanket and stood up. It might have been someone fooling around, and he would’ve felt terrible waking Sadie from her angelic slumber for that. But it didn’t appear to be someone fooling around. A woman struggled in water at least up to her chest, her head bobbing alternatively above and below the harsh waves. He took off running, his feet pounding across the sand and into the surf, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the woman, trying to mark her location should she go under. He kept running until the sand went out from under him. The taste of salt in his mouth and the sting of it in his eyes met each stroke of his arms.
To his horror, he watched her go fully under. He already swam in neck-deep water, so she was likely well deeper than that. He didn’t know this beach, but some shorelines angle down sharply so that a swimmer can end up in danger without realizing it. Some also have rip tides in unexpected places that can shift a submerged swimmer several yards in the briefest of seconds. He paused to search for signs of her. To his relief, she resurfaced near him. Fear and gratitude filled her wide-set, brown eyes.
She slung an arm around his neck, and they moved toward shore as he continued to monitor her status. She took regular breaths and, once her feet touched sand, her legs supported some of her own weight.
This was good, but the moment they stepped from of the sea, her body went limp. She became as slippery and formless as a greased seal. He lost his grip, and she collapsed onto the sand. He knelt over her, shocked to find her making raspy, choking sounds as if she couldn’t pull in a full breath. A person could drown in an inch of water if the water got too deep into the lungs. He turned her onto her side, patting her hard between her shoulder blades, but her gasping only increased. He rolled her onto her back and told her he was going to give her some quick breaths to keep her conscious.
By this time, a small crowd stood around them. He yelled for them to stay back unless they knew CPR. They obeyed, but a few started recording with their phones. He tipped her head back to open her airway, pinched her nose, and put his lips on hers to blow, grateful he’d taken his recertification course the month before.
But before his first breath could enter her mouth, she sprung back to health again! She opened her eyes, smiled at him, and began to lift herself up from the sand. “You’re so strong,” she said. “Rescue me again!”
This was odd, but at least the danger had passed. By this point, the crowd around them had grown. They wanted his photograph. They wanted to know his name. All he wanted, now that the woman seemed okay, was to get back to Sadie. He needed to be there when Sadie woke up, so he could talk to her about why she disliked him.
When he finally extricated himself and returned to the umbrella, Sadie was gone. He prayed she simply stepped away to find the bathroom, but her towel was missing too. She wouldn’t have brought that to the restroom. His mind filling with despair, he jogged all the way to the parking lot but couldn’t see her car anywhere. Why had she left like that?
He reached for his phone, then remembered he’d placed it under their beach blanket inside a protective pouch. Even if he’d had it on him, he didn’t have her phone number. Only Ronny did.
He wanted to kick every tire on every car in that lot till his feet bled. He wanted to drop to his knees and cry. Instead, he made several plodding trips to the beach and back, lugging the cooler and the pillows and the umbrella and shoving them into his car. No one seemed to notice him, and no more mystery women showed up to mess with him.
Now that he was home, he knew two things for certain. First, he would never return to Be-Seen Beach, because the women there were certifiable. Second, he had to find a way to explain to Sadie what had really happened between him and her three roommates. If she still thought him a cad after that, well, he would have to somehow get over Sadie Heppner.
The Sadie Heppner he knew would at least listen to him, and maybe even understand.
He didn’t have her phone number, but he knew where she lived. Considering how tired she’d been that afternoon, going over there that night didn’t seem like the best plan. Between the beach harpies, arranging for the food and beach gear, and Sadie’s sudden disappearance, Grant felt sapped of energy too. He needed to be at full capacity when he made his last play for Sadie’s love. In the morning, he’d head over there and beg her to talk with him.