Falls Like Lightning by Shawn Grady Read Free Book Online Page A

She hopped up in the front seat, said “Morning,” and inquired who they were going to pick up next. Silas looked sheepish and admitted that his buddies had bowed out last minute. He totally understood if she decided not to go. She eyed him, searching for any sign of deceit or trickery. Satisfied that none existed, she set her backpack and sleeping bag behind the seat and kicked a foot up on the dash. “Well, I for one,” she said, “am glad to have someone else do the flying.”
    He flashed his ineffable grin, dropped the column shift in gear, and they were off.
    Late afternoon in Seaside they bought fresh fruit and a bunch of mint at a farmer’s market. She reclined against a warm sand dune by the empty beach parking lot. She peeled an orange, the scent of citrus covering her fingertips, the cool taste of leafy herbs on her tongue. Silas stood in his wetsuit on the frame borders of the bus, dancing to Donovan on the AM radio with the sun behind him, giant and amber and sinking beneath the horizon.
    He sang along, “ ‘Superman or Green Lantern ain’t got nothin’ on me.’ ”
    She grinned and shook her head.
    He pointed to her and started in on the next verse when she heard the sound of wet rubber squeaking over metal. His eyes flashed big and he tumbled over the side.
    Elle held her breath and sat forward.
    Silas popped up, sand on his face and shoulder. He boogied into the parking lot like nothing had happened.
    She burst into laughter.
    He darted forward, a playful look in his eyes. She yelped and twisted to scramble up the dune, her orange dropping and rolling in the sand. He snatched her by the waist, and before she knew it, the earth turned upside down, with her pounding fists on his back like a cavewoman swept off the ground.
    “Let me down, you.”
    “Time to get wet.”
    “No!” Her voice came out as a scream. She already felt water from his wetsuit soaking through her clothing. She was so not in the mood to be dunked into a fifty-five-degree ocean.
    Silas just laughed and spanked her. Elle gritted her teeth. How humiliating. She knew that the more she screamed and kicked the funnier he would think it was. Maybe if she just played like it was no big deal . . . He wouldn’t really dunk her in the water. Right?
    Elle feigned going unconscious.
    “Hey,” Silas said. “You still awake back there?”
    She opened her eyes lazily. “Hmm? Oh yes. Just relaxing.” Maybe her strategy would work.
    Silas stopped walking. The sound of the waves crashed louder. He slid her body forward until her toes touched wet sand. She faced him, hands on his arms, his own tight around the small of her back. Frigid seawater rushed over her heels. She stifled a yelp at the icy cold.
    “There,” he said. “Told you you’d get wet.”
    She ran her hand along his biceps. His wet, sand-colored hair lay swept across his forehead, long enough to be a bit shaggy but short enough to be irresistibly cute. And those eyes . . . She swallowed and bit her lip. She was smitten. How had this happened? She was a U.S. Forest Service pilot. Could there be anything more old hat than a smokejumper? So why did she quiver like a cup of Jell-O? She traced her fingers over his chest. In the neoprene wetsuit he actually did resemble a lean, chiseled superhero. Just for her.
    He glanced at the sunset and then looked into her eyes. “I agree with the song, you know.”
    “About Green Lantern?”
    “About when you’ve made your mind up, forever to be . . .” He held her gaze for a moment longer, then searched the sand near them. “Here.” He knelt and broke off a thin strand of dried kelp.
    Elle tented her eyebrows. “Ew.”
    He smiled. “What do you mean, ‘Ew?’ Look.” He threaded it between his fingers, brushing off the sand. “Fashioned by the sea and purified by the sun.”
    The water washed around her ankles, the sand burying her toes. The cold was no longer so shocking.
    “Let me see your hand.”
    Elle reached out