Free Friction by Samantha Hunter Page B

shore.
    “Okay, these waves are just going to pop us right up on shore, so just go with it, okay?”
    She smiled. She felt young, like she hadn’t felt in years. Riding the waves into shore was like riding an amusement park ride, and she laughed out loud with the joy of it. When she hopped out of her boat into the wet sand, she caught Logan’s eye as he stood by his own boat. The ribbon of heat his gaze caused knocked her off balance, literally, and she felt herself fall backward into cool, deeper water.
    Sputtering, she emerged, finding Logan directly before her, smiling.
    “Losing your balance?”
    “The sand is soft—this beach seems steeper than the other.”
    “It is.” He sank down, accepting her lame excuse with a wicked, knowing grin. They played in the water, taking in their surroundings, until Sarah realized Logan had disappeared from her view. Water sloshed around her, and before she could call out, he popped up in front of her, splashing. She reared back, surprised, but his hands slid around her, yanking her up close to him.
    “I wondered where you’d gone to.”
    “Checking for sharks.”
    “Right. I think you’re the only shark in this water.”
    His grin seemed to confirm the fact as he planted a kiss on her mouth, then released her.
    “I’m starving.”
    Sarah blinked, lifting her fingers to her mouth, and followed him out of the water. He continued to keep her off balance. It didn’t feel too bad, really.
    “Tell me, are there bugs everywhere around here?” She jumped, swatting at a fat, biting fly that made a strafing run at her head, and Logan laughed, digging down into his hatch and pulling out their small cooler as well as the familiar green can of bug spray.
    “Fact of life. You have stuff washing up on shore, you have little stinging carnivores around, too. To them you’re just another meal.”
    Sarah snorted, covering herself with the spray again. “So much for idyllic beach scenes.”
    Logan whipped out a large blanket and laid it over the sand, setting down the cooler. He put his hands on his hips. Dressed only in the neoprene shorts, he was darkening quickly, his chest and limbs turning a light tan.
    “I don’t know, Sarah. I think this is pretty idyllic, myself. Perfect, really.”
    Her name on his lips caught her breath; she liked it. And, bugs and all, he was right. She looked out over the water, listened to the quiet around them. It was beautiful here. She threw him the spray can.
    “True. I can’t believe all the shells—there are so many of them, and they’re big, not like the little scraps I find on the mainland beaches.”
    “No one bothers them here. The birds and the bugs take what they want, and the rest is left alone.”
    She squatted to check out a particularly large oyster shell. Oysters were one of the creatures that had once filled the Bay, she knew from a little local research. There had been so many oysters they’d formed large reefs that were a danger to boats. They’d also provided food for native peoples over the ages as well as filtering all the water of the Chesapeake each day. No small task.
    The small, fleshy creatures with shells so lumpy and ugly on the outside but so pretty on the inside were struggling now, endangered, just like everything else that lived in these waters. Sarah ran her fingers along the smooth, pearly inside of the shell, and a well of hope and sadness rose within her. This was a big shell. Maybe there were more? Or was it the last?
    She set it back down on the sand, straightening to discover Logan’s eyes fixed on her. Feeling oddly exposed, she walked briskly over to the blanket and plopped down, crossing her legs and reaching for the cooler.
    “What did Harold and Karen pack up for us?”
    He didn’t say anything, but cleared his throat, sitting down beside her, maybe a bit closer than she was comfortable with.
    “Not sure. Let’s see.”
    They pulled out thick sandwiches wrapped in white paper and plastic to protect