Free The Summer Girls by Mary Alice Monroe Page B

like it better. I go out whenever I get a free moment and some good wind.”
    Carson looked at his long, lanky body, seeing him in a new light. He wasn’t muscle-bound, which was never a look she found sexy. But in his dark brown T-shirt she could see that his muscles were hard and sinewy, typical for swimmers. Who knew? she thought with renewed interest. Mr. Predictable wasn’t so predictable after all.
    Condensation dripped from the iced tea pitcher down her arm. It was getting heavier by the minute. She boldly put the pitcher down, then dried her hands on her apron.
    “I’ve always wanted to learn to kiteboard,” she said, warming to the topic. “But I don’t see a lot of girls out there doing it. I know they do, of course, but it looks like it takes a lot of upper-body strength to handle the kite.”
    “Not especially. The arms are used for control of the kite, but you’re connected to the kite by a line that’s attached to a harness you wear like a belt. There’s a lot of core strength involved. A lot of girls are giving it a try. If you surf, you shouldn’t have any trouble.” He paused, then said, “I could give you a lesson . . .”
    There it was. The invitation, as she’d expected. And yet, not at all what she’d expected. Going to the beach to learn how to kiteboard wouldn’t really be a date—no drinks, no candles, no awkward small talk. It was a lesson, outdoors, inthe daylight. If she didn’t like him, they’d say good-bye and that would be it.
    She smiled. “That’d be great. Where do you kite?”
    “Around Station Twenty-Eight.”
    “Yeah, I’ve seen the kites out there. Okay, maybe I can—”
    Her response was interrupted by someone shouting out her name.
    “Caaaaaaarson Muir! Is that really you?”
    She turned her head and followed the voice to the door to see a broad-shouldered, deeply tanned man with shaggy blond hair and wearing a raggedy blue polo shirt and khaki shorts. He held out his arms and stampeded her way to lift her clear off the ground.
    “Damn, it really is you!” he exclaimed as he set her down, grinning from ear to ear.
    Carson pushed her hair from her face, laughing, flustered by both the welcome and his staggeringly beautiful blue eyes.
    “Hey, Dev!” she replied breathlessly. “Well, aren’t you a blast from the past!”
    Devlin Cassell had been a summer crush when she was in her teens. He had dated Dora for a summer, but there had been one hot and heavy kissing session between them on the beach one lazy summer evening after Dora had left for college and that’s where it had ended.
    “When did you get back?” he asked her, his eyes devouring her.
    “A few weeks ago.”
    “You staying with Mamaw?”
    “No, I’m renting a villa at Wild Dunes.”
    His eyes widened. “Really?”
    “Would I be working here if I was? Of course I’m at Mamaw’s.”
    “Good ol’ Mamaw. There’s no one like her. How is she? What’s she up to? She still hosting those big parties?”
    “No big soirées these days. But the family’s celebrating her birthday this weekend. She’s eighty years old.”
    “No kidding.” Devlin shook his head as though in disbelief. “I’ll bet she doesn’t look a day over sixty.”
    Carson laughed. “Mamaw always said you could charm the skin off a snake.”
    He laughed at that, murmuring, “Yep, that sounds about right.”
    She enjoyed the cadence of a Southern man’s chatter and realized how much she’d missed it.
    “You remember Brady and Zack?” Devlin asked, stepping back and extending his arm toward his two friends, both of similar age and attire. They’d removed their baseball caps, revealing sunburned faces and salt-dried hair. She didn’t know the men but smiled, lifting her hand in a casual wave. “Come on, pretty girl, walk with me,” Devlin said, putting his hand on the small of her back and guiding her to the bar. “I’m so dry my throat feels like a desert.”
    He smelled like he’d been drinking for