Chapter Six
LENA
The next morning, I practiced yoga at the studio in Coligny Square, committed to a new beginning after the fresh outlook I’d gained from listening to Elias the night before. The ninety-minute class delivered, and I left feeling centered and focused.
But the quaint little studio needed some love.
The HVAC barely kept the practice room above eighty, the floorboards creaked with every transition to Chaturanga, and I was one of only three students in class.
I’d only practiced there a few times in the past, but the sad state of the studio surprised me.
I made a mental note to introduce myself to the owner next time I had the chance and ask about the community.
Despite the weak heaters, the island humidity added its own torture to the space, and afterwards I desperately needed to get my body temperature down.
I hadn’t been in the ocean since I’d arrived on the island, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.
I took a detour on the way back to the house and pedaled my bike to the beach.
I rode through manicured fairways and muddy swamps, past golf carts and tennis courts, under Spanish moss and towering pines.
The fragrant air hugged my sweat-soaked skin and sent beads of moisture trailing down my face and back.
The island’s beauty enveloped my senses, and my grandma felt alive and present in those comforting sensations.
I rode along the winding bike paths of Sea Pines toward my beach and drank in the island magic that brought her spirit back to me.
I parked my bike, pulled my sweaty towel out of the basket, and trudged up the sand dune to find a near-empty expanse of beach—everyone must have been at the golf tournament.
A single older couple strolled by, hand-in-hand.
A brief pang threatened to seize my chest and drag me down, their companionship and devotion a reminder of everything my failed marriage wasn’t, but I ruthlessly beat down that line of thinking.
Nothing was going to distract me from the beauty of an empty beach and the ocean beyond.
I dropped my towel, kicked off my flip-flops, and peeled off my sweaty tank top and yoga pants. At least I’d worn black panties; they matched my sports bra and kind of made it look like a swimsuit.
The endless ocean glistened so brightly beneath the mid-morning sun, I had to shield my eyes to see anything but glare. And that’s when I spotted them—dolphins.
Teenage Lena had been obsessed with dolphins, and I still became giddy anytime they surfaced, especially this close to shore.
I stepped toward the water as if those few feet might bring me nearer to them and blinked hard when I realized someone was out there cutting through the water with a rhythmic breaststroke.
Was he... Yes! He was swimming alongside the dolphins as they dipped in and out of the waves.
One of the dolphins raised its head above the surface and clicked.
The swimmer slowed, and the dolphin breached the surface.
The man stopped and watched it arc. It crashed down sending a wave over his head, and his laugh carried across the distance to the shore.
He pushed his hair out of his face, and I instantly recognized him—Elias.
I barked out a surprised laugh, and my hand flew to cover my mouth. He must have heard me, because he swam in a few strokes until he could stand.
“Lena!”
I waved.
He gestured for me to join him. “Come on, Lena!”
Well, I was here for a swim, wasn’t I?
I ran through the shore break and duck-dove beneath the waves. The cool water refreshed my hot and sticky skin, and I indulged myself for a moment, submerged in its salty embrace. Then I did my best impression of a dog and paddled toward Elias.
I wasn’t a strong swimmer. In fact, what I was doing could barely pass as swimming, and only if the person was generous.
Despite growing up on an island, I hadn’t spent a lot of time in the ocean.
My grandma and I occasionally visited the beach, but she was afraid of the water, so I never went too deep, and we spent most of our time taking long walks, looking for shells, and building sandcastles.
But the water was calm, and Elias seemed like he could swim for both of us.
Still, nerves got the best of me, and I stopped short of where he waited and started treading water.
He paddled back with ease, and when he reached me, flipped onto his back and floated atop the waves. “Float with me.” His smile brightened the space around him almost as much as the sun off the crystalline water.
I leaned back, allowing the salt water to cradle my body, and my anxiety ebbed.
“Beautiful morning for a swim, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Were those dolphins swimming with you?”
“I’d say I was swimming with the dolphins. It’s their surf, you know? But yeah. They’re here almost every morning. Want to swim with them?”
“What?”
“Do you want to swim with them?” he asked again, this time enunciating each word as if I didn’t understand English.
I stared at him in disbelief. Was he crazy?
“Come with me,” he said. “If we swim farther out, they’ll come back. They love to play in the mornings.” He dove into the water and emerged right next to me with a boyish tilt to his lips. “They like me.”
A hysterical laugh escaped me. “You do this often? Swim with dolphins?”
“Sure. Whenever I get the chance. I swim every day, and sometimes we swim the same route.” He shrugged a shoulder out of the water; he thought this was the most normal thing in the world. Unbelievable.
He paddled closer and grabbed my hand under the water. My body jerked, surprised by the sudden warmth of his touch and the electric heat it sent down my spine. He wrapped his big hand around mine and squeezed, his blue eyes bright, shimmering with the sun’s reflection off the water.
“Come with me.” His words slid across my body like smooth silk and pulled me toward him.
“Okay,” I replied, hypnotized by his eyes and his voice, my resolve to stay away from charming, handsome men fading into a distant memory. I resumed my slow paddle next to him, luxuriating in the gentle waters under the mid-morning sun.
A splash startled me out of my reverie, and my head snapped to the source.
A dolphin’s fluke slapped the water only a foot away.
My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline pumping through me in a dizzying rush of shock and fear.
I squealed in surprise, my arms flailing as I tried to back away from the wild animal.
I inhaled a mouthful of ocean and, coughing and sputtering, still tried to gain distance.
Tears and salt water stung my eyes and burned the inside of my nose and throat.
My arms ached with effort, and panic set in like a weight atop my pounding chest.
I bumped into something solid and yelped. I spun around, and a strong, muscular arm wrapped around my ribs. Elias. I held onto his shoulders, my body overcome with coughing, and he pulled me close.
“Hey, hey. Lena. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” He pushed the wet hair clinging to my face out of the way while I coughed up the rest of the ocean. “Surprised you, did he?”
His aquamarine eyes searched mine, and I nodded, trying to regain control over the burn in my windpipe and lungs. I slid my fingers over the smooth skin of his shoulders, the heat of his body warm and safe, and rested my forearms there, clasping my hands behind his neck.
The coughing subsided, and the realization of what I’d done brought awareness back to the rest of my body.
My legs brushed against his, my hips pressed against his hard torso, and his thick forearm held me close.
Our faces only inches apart, his eyes focused on my mouth.
A hot flare of desire shot down my spine and into my core.
I cleared my throat, desperate to break the tension before I did something stupid like maul the gorgeous man holding me with my mouth. I unwrapped my arms from around his neck and pushed the rest of my hair off my face. “Sorry about that. I’ve never been so close to a wild animal.”
He hesitated, his throat bobbing through a slow swallow, then released me.
I felt both relieved and disappointed at his absence.
But he remained close enough that his breath still tickled my face, and it made me shiver.
His jaw ticked—he was clenching his teeth—his eyes still fixed on my mouth.
The idea he felt the same heat that swam through my veins at our touch rekindled the smoldering ember inside me.
“No worries.” His words came out rough, and he cleared his throat. “You’ll get used to them. Let’s go slow. They’ll come up alongside us, so don’t get spooked. Remember—I’ll be right next to you.”
Elias set a lazy pace, and I paddled next to him, less fearful now that he was nearby. He’d be there if I needed him.
A dorsal fin breached the water. I started but didn’t panic. “There!”
He laughed at my reaction and flipped onto his back, continuing with a backstroke. I regained my composure and resumed paddling.
Two more fins breached the water in tandem, and I stopped again, mouth gaping in awe.
“Come on,” Elias urged. “Faster! They want to swim!”
So, I swam. We moved through the water side by side, and three dolphins swam alongside us, all cares left behind in our wake.
The dolphin closest to us disappeared beneath the waves, and I turned onto my side to face Elias and the horizon, hoping it would return.
Without warning, the dolphin sprang from the water. It sailed over our heads in a dizzying arc, sprinkling us with droplets that glistened like diamonds in the sun. It crashed into the water on its flank with a thwump, submerging us beneath a titanic splash.
Elias wiped the water from his face, his muscled shoulders shaking with laughter, his playfulness infectious.