Page 68 of Instant Karma

“I had to ask. You’d be amazed how many people don’t.” His eyes sweep down my dress and I feel a little kick in the base of my stomach.Is he checking me out?He looks like he’s about to say something, but then seems to think better of it as he turns away. “Come on, there’s a great place a little farther up.”

I follow him in silence, our sandals flipping up the sand. It isn’t until I see the two neatly folded beach towels stacked on a rock that I realize I forgot to bring mine. Quint, who probably notices this, too, doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his sandals and heads toward the water.

I slide my sandals off my feet and tuck them beside the towels. My heart has started to thump erratically. I realize how much I haven’t thought this through.

I’m going to be in my swimsuit. In the ocean. With Quint Erickson.

Alone.

Why is this starting to feel like a date?

It’sisn’ta date. Obviously. He hasn’t said or done anything to imply this is a romantic excursion, and… I mean, it’s pretty clear how much he dislikes me. He’s only here because I’ve basically coerced him into helping me with our project, and in turn, helping the center.

And that’s for the best, because I’m so not into him. Not in that way. Not in any way.

My mind is rambling. I struggle to shut it off.

Quint walks out into the surf until he’s shin-deep, then looks back at me, confused. “You okay?” he yells.

“Yeah,” I yell back. For good measure, I give him a thumbs-up.

“What are you waiting for?”

I tighten my grip on the snorkel gear, like I’m holding a weapon. My breezydress feels suddenly like a shield. I don’t want to take it off. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this.

What was I thinking?

Brow creasing, Quint starts walking back toward me. He looks legitimately concerned. “Okay, I shouldn’t have teased you about the sharks. But I checked, and there’sneverbeen a shark sighting along this stretch of beach. You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s not…” I shake my head.

He cocks his head to one side, considering. “Are you afraid of the water?”

“No,” I say, perhaps a little too defensively, only afterward realizing that to say yes would have been a perfect way to get out of this.

“Prudence, it’s okay if you are. But you should say—”

“I’m not afraid of the water!”

He holds up his hands, his snorkel gear dangling from his fingers. “Okay, okay. So what’s the holdup?”

I open my mouth, but what can I say? That I’m too shy to take my dress off? That I don’t want him to see me in my swimsuit, when half the people in our town practicallylivein their swimsuits this time of year?

“I just…” I shake my head again. “Nothing. Whatever.” I set down the mask and turn away from him, because that’s as close to seeking privacy as I can get out here on the open beach. I suck in a deep breath and before I can talk myself out of it, before I can make it any weirder than it already is, I pull my dress up over my head and drape it over the rock beside our towels. I grab the snorkel gear and pass by Quint without meeting his gaze.

I have no idea if he bothers to look at me. Tolooklook.

And I don’t want to know.

I’ve never gotten into the water so quickly.

The sand shifts under my bare feet. The waves push at my legs and hips, and soon the foam is swirling around my waist.

“Keep the tube out of the water,” says Quint, and I jump. I didn’t realize he was so close to me, and now his hand is beneath mine, lifting the gear away from the gentle waves. “Nothing like a mouth full of seawater to ruin the experience.”

He smiles, his eyes catching the light that’s reflected off the water, andthey are not boring, nondescript, basic brown eyes at all. They are rich and captivating.

My mouth dries.

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