Page 45 of A Line in the Sand
“Me,” Max said flatly.
Violet swiveled her head to gape at the statue again. “And you’re—”
“Practically naked.” Max’s face was turning an alarming shade of red. “You noticed, huh?”
Ursula whined to be put down, so Molly acquiesced and the little Cavalier began chasing Sprinkles in circles around the sand sculpture.
“Great. Let’s draw even more attention to this monstrosity,” Max said.
“Monstrosity? Hardly.” Violet blew out a breath. “It’s very flattering.”
And not altogether inaccurate. Molly had seen Max’s actual bare chest with her own eyes the night they’d rescued Crush. His body had made quite an impression.
“Look on the bright side. At least you’re no longer the town super-villain.” Violet shrugged.
A crowd was beginning to form around the sand sculpture. A few people seemed to be trying to take stealthy photos of Sand-Max and the real deal side-by-side.
Caroline emerged from the cluster of onlookers and came to stand next to them. “Congratulations, Max. I think you’ve just been crowned Turtle Beach’s unofficial sexiest man alive.”
“See? Told you,” Violet said.
Max finally tore his attention away from his sandy doppelgänger. His nostrils flared. Evidently, he’d yet to see the humor in the situation. Or the bright side, despite Violet and Caroline’s best efforts. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go track down a certain trio of octogenarians.”
I’ll bet you do.
“See you later,” Molly said, wiggling her fingertips in a little wave.
But Max had already turned away.
***
For three women who’d never had trouble standing out in a crowd, Mavis, Ethel, and Opal had suddenly become difficult to track down.
Max searched for them at the picnic tables on the pier while simultaneously trying to avoid tourists wearing Sand Fan T-shirts who wanted to snap selfies with him, but his efforts on both counts were unsuccessful. From the Salty Dog, he went straight to the senior center, and for once the hub of Turtle Beach’s social scene was a ghost town. There wasn’t a walker, cane, or yoga mat in sight. The island’s senior citizen population was apparently just as invested in SandFest as everyone else, possibly even more so.
Max swung by the aquarium on the off chance the women had tried to find him there and give him a heads-up about the sand sculpture, but of course that was a pipe dream. All he found was a mob of Sand Fans who’d come to the turtle hospital hoping for a glimpse of the island’s real-life sea god. Max hid in a supply closet until Nate came to tell him the coast was clear.
“Thanks,” Max said, back aching from being crammed between a mop and bucket for the better part of twenty minutes.
“No problem.” Nate shook his head. “It’s been wild here all morning. You might want to keep a low profile for the rest of the day.”
“I plan to, just as soon as I have a word with the leaders of our Turtle Team. You haven’t seen Mavis, Ethel, and Opal around, have you?”
“No, but the children’s sandcastle contest is going on right now down at the dog beach. You might check there.” Nate jerked his head in the direction of the turtle hospital. “I’ve got to get back to work. We’ve got tours going all day. Everyone on the island is dropping in to visit the turtles. This has been our busiest day of the year.”
Max crossed his arms. “Seriously?”
Nate nodded. “Seriously.”
“Okay. Well…that’s good, I guess.” This wasn’t quite the way Max wanted to get the aquarium out of the red, but he’d take whatever win he could get, no matter how personally embarrassing it was.
Still, his volunteers had some explaining to do. The fact that they seemed to be going out of their way to avoid him only made things worse.
On his way out, Max grabbed a baseball cap with the aquarium’s logo on it from the gift shop, along with a pair of neon-yellow plastic sunglasses—the best disguise he could come up with on short notice. Fortunately, it seemed to work. No one batted an eye in his direction when he got to the dog beach.
The crowd here was a bit smaller than it had been down at the pier, mostly families. And dogs, of course. They milled about in a canine free-for-all, running from sand castle to sand castle, noses pressed to the ground. The sand creations were modest compared to the ones in the big contest closer to the heart of the town. These were genuine kid castles, with wet, drippy turrets and lopsided moats filled with sea water. Nostalgia tugged at Max’s heartstrings as he took in the scene. It reminded him so much of the summers he’d spent on the island with Uncle Henry.
There’d been fewer people on the beach back then, and definitely fewer dogs. But crossing the bridge from the mainland to Turtle Beach was always a bit like stepping back in time. Life was simpler here…slower. As a kid, Henry had always felt like he could breathe here—as opposed to back home, where his parents were constantly at war with each other. On some level, he knew that’s why he’d come back. It had been a long time since Max had allowed himself to slow down and take a deep breath. Over the past few years, he’d somehow let himself forget why he’d started working in ocean conservation to begin with. Moments like this and seeing Turtle Beach at its homey, small-town best were potent reminders.
