Free Stolen Chances by Elisabeth Naughton Page B

shop.”
    “Hmm.” She held up a finger to stop him while she kept typing. She hit the Save key, swiveled on her stool, and took the pencil out of her mouth. “I’ll go with you. I need to get a few things as well.”
    “Sounds good.”
    He stepped to the side to let her pass. Their bodies brushed as she moved, just a whisper touch. Just enough so the casual contact sent a shiver of awareness through Maren’s entire body. She tried not to react but couldn’t help drawing in a quick breath and inhaling the clean scent of soap and male sweat mixed with salt from the ocean.
    She fought to keep her eyes open and not savor the feel of being close to him again. How was it possible he smelled the same after all this time? Recognition swamped her, and her heart rate jumped before she could steady it.
    Thad followed her out to the Wrangler, where Drummer was waiting. They drove into the village, parked, and Maren climbed out, relieved to have some distance and a chance to get her bearings. She scanned the area.
    “An hour and a half long enough?” Thad asked.
    “Should be. I’ll put together an order. We can pick it up on the way back.” She moved into the crowds and resisted the urge to look back to see if he was watching her.
    It only took about an hour to locate the supplies on her list. Most of it she was able to find at the local hardware store. A few items she had to order. She made a mental note to let Patrick handle those.
    With an extra half hour until she had to meet Thad and Drummer, she decided to poke around the open-air market.
    She moved through the hustle of locals and a few tourists who’d ventured south of the resort areas, stopping to look here and there at the handwoven baskets and local crafts. The tin roofs protected the merchants from sun and wind and rain, and the blue tarps were a sort of shelter from each other.
    The shops all sold roughly the same goods. A different necklace here or there. A wooden boat she hadn’t seen at any other booths. When she spotted a young native girl behind a low counter with various forms of jewelry laid across the top, she paused to glance over the selection.
    A necklace with a large white shell hanging from the middle of a silver chain sparkled and caught her eye. “This is beautiful,” she said to the girl. “Did you make it?”
    The girl nodded. Not much older than Isabel. But down here, craft was taught early. “Abalone.”
    Maren held up the necklace, marveling at how the shell caught the light. “Can you put it on for me?”
    “Me?”
    “Yes. I know a girl about your age who’d love this. I’d like to see how it looks.”
    The young girl took the necklace and clasped it around her neck. Maren smiled. “Very nice.”
    The girl motioned to a pair of earrings. “These match.”
    “Your English is very good.”
    “ Gracias . I study hard.”
    Maren lifted the small drops and held them up against the necklace at the girl’s throat. “Really pretty. You do good work.”
    “ Gracias ,” the girl said again.
    “I’ll take them.”
    The girl beamed as she slipped the necklace off and bagged the purchase. She passed Maren the bag, then leaned across the counter to get a better look at the choker around Maren’s neck.
    “ Es , um, shark tooth?” she asked.
    “This?” Maren brushed her hair over her shoulder and fingered the choker, leaning closer so the girl could see it better. The lone tooth was attached to a braided hemp rope, positioned between two small beads. “Yes.”
    “A real shark tooth?” the girl asked.
    “Yep.”
    “ Es más grande , um…larger…than any of the shark tooth necklaces here. Where you get it?”
    “Great Barrier Reef. I was diving there.”
    “You found it?” The girl reached out and ran her fingertips along the sharp edges.
    “No. The shark took a liking to me.”
    “He alive?” This time she glanced up at Maren with wide eyes.
    “He was. My diving partner didn’t like how he was eyeing me.”
    “What