Page 116 of Fated

“When she asked you to pick up books in New York you said she already had enough to read. Did you change your mind?”

“She deserves to be happy.”

Aaron rubs his thumb over my cheek and gives a happy rumble. “What else? I can see there’s more.”

“I want to get Odie a comfy chair for when he’s on crossing guard duty. And I think Maranda and Essie and Dee could sell their baskets. We could send them to the big island. There’s an entire market for baskets like that. People would pay hundreds for just one.”

Well, that is if there are people outside this island. But it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, shifting in his arms to look at him.

His mouth is firm and his long eyelashes drift low. There’s surprise hidden in his eyes. “You care.”

“Of course I care.”

He thinks about this for a moment.

“And what,” he finally asks, tracing his finger in a slow circle over my arm, “are your plans for me?”

I think about how he said he felt like he could swim again. How with me here, he could swim knowing I’d be there in the water with him.

“You said you might swim again.”

He nods, his eyes suddenly solemn. The shadow of the ironwood leaves, rustling in the sun, drifts over us.

I scoot closer, the sand scraping my thighs, and Aaron’s arms tighten around me.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” he says. “If I swim again, each location, I’d swim for a local charity. Each swim, I’d raise money for a cause. That way it wouldn’t be about the thrill or setting records. I’m past that. This time it’d be about helping others.” He peers down at me, his eyes clouded. “What do you think?”

I press into his sun-warmed chest, feeling his solid heartbeat and his strength. The sea lies only a few meters away, lapping over the shore. Above a gull soars along the coastline, his shadow flicking over the sand, before he veers away.

The breeze shifts the sand, pulling my wet hair across my cheek. Aaron takes the loose strands and tucks them behind my ear, his fingers brushing over my skin. A trace of heat follows the path of his hand.

“I think,” I tell him, “you’re a good man. I think I’d love to see you do it.”

I wish he could do it with me. I’d bring him to Geneva, ask him to swim the lake, the city perched on its edges, the mountains rising in the distance. Daniel would love it. He’d ask Aaron to model our watches, construct an entire PR campaign around him. He’d gift the entire crew Abry watches and make us the official sponsor.

I’m grinning, swept away by the thought. Aaron looks down at me, his gaze curious.

“What?” he asks, his voice a soft rumble.

“I want to be there to see it. That’s all. And someday, maybe you could swim Lake Geneva. You could go to Geneva and tour Abry. I’d like that. If you went to Abry and got your watch.”

He makes a soft noise of assent, and then pulls me against his chest.

I rest against him, breathing in the scent of mango warming in the sun and the salt drying on our skin. In the soft, gentle quiet, Aaron brushes a kiss over my head.

“All right,” he says, “we’ll plan on it. Someday we’ll go to Switzerland. We’ll swim in Lake Geneva and get ourselves an Abry.”

“Good,” I tell him, my throat thick.

Then he leans back in the sand, a powder-soft bed. And I lie on top of him, my cheek pressed to his heart. He strokes my back, a gentle, soothing rhythm as I stare out at the turquoise sea.

40

August arriveswith the suddenness of a summer rainstorm. I’m caught unaware and surprised. In the two weeks since the beach I’ve existed in a haze of summer heat, with morning swims in the cove, cool kisses in the shade, and pink cheeks burned by the sun as Aaron drags his hand through my salt-kissed hair and we dream up futures: double-decker bus rides in London before a Channel swim; the swim around Manhattan so Amy can finally see New York; a trip to South Africa to swim False Bay—futures that don’t exist.

I launch into the dream, though, with the fervent wholeheartedness of a child instinctively knowing summer is ending. The last days are here. So I play, I run, I abandon myself to experiencing everything the long, hot days have to offer.

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