Sweet Waters by Julie Carobini Read Free Book Online Page A

that?” He flicks his well-defined chin upward and out toward an east-facing wave that’s gaining height and speed as it moves toward us.
    I pry my lips apart. “Camille! Tide’s coming in!”
    She swishes her face in my direction and in a flash, her expression changes from annoyance to open delight. Apparently she’s noticed who has joined us on the sand. I only wish I could express the same emotion about Josh’s looming presence. We watch her stepping gingerly across the uneven surface, and I try to say something to break the silence. However, the annoying sensation of butterflies careening inside my stomach forces me to keep my mouth closed, lest one escape in the form of an awkward moment.
    Camille hops down from the rock in front of us, her bare legs encrusted with wet sand. “Hey there, Mr. Fireman,” she says, casual as a long time friend. “Thank you for saving my life.”
    Oh, Camille.
    A dark shadow flows over Josh’s face, his smile thin and strained. “Enjoy your day, ladies.” He turns to go, but Camille stops him.
    â€œLeaving so soon?” She gives me a smile filled with innocence, though I know better. “My sister and I could really use a tour guide. We’ve seen just about all we could of this dinky town on our own. Isn’t that right, Tare-Tare?”
    He takes up his security guard stance again. “Have you been up to the castle yet?”
    He’s talking about the famed Hearst Castle, built by newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. My only brush with the tourist attraction is the tattered stack of cards my father and I once played with. Cards that have stayed cold, on my dresser back in Missouri, since his death.
    Camille wrinkles her nose. “Boring.” She looks to me, wide-eyed. “But Tara loves that kind of stuff. Hey, why don’t you two go together?”
    A tightrope of silence tugs between us until I’m able to draw in a breath. “She’s kidding. Leave the man alone. I’m sure he didn’t come here to be recruited for anything.”
    Camille ignores me but watches Josh. “So why are you here? Is this a hangout for firemen or something?” She cranes her neck in order to take a peek up the cliff. “Ya got anyone else up there with you?”
    His cool expression falters but recovers. His gaze flicks off into the translucent horizon. “Don’t come here all that much. It’s just a place I know. I’m on my own today.”
    The sparseness of his words tells me that he’d rather be alone in this tranquil spot than subject to Camille’s flirtatious whim. Does he comes here often to shake off the day’s grime, to refill after life has drained him? I can’t blame him. And yet, as I take in the gentle crush of water against the rocks, something inside me hopes that his visit to this cove is rare.
    I’d like to claim this place as my own.
    Josh turns and gives us a succinct bow of his head. “Ladies.” With that, he takes the uneven stair-like ledges up the cliff, several at a time.
    â€œWait!” Camille calls out after him. “You haven’t been at the Red Abalone Grill in a while. Will we see you over there sometime soon?”
    He pauses, and I have to squint into the sun to make out the quizzical expression that forms on his face before eventually breaking into a slight grin, a sight that should annoy me further and yet, much to my surprise, thrills me.
    I just realized that, until this moment, he had no idea who we were.
    EVERY MORNING FOR THE past week, before Camille and I set out to rediscover this hamlet of our youth, we first stopped into the Red Abalone Grill for breakfast. And no morning was the same. For one thing, each table has now been topped with a narrow vase stuffed with fresh wildflowers of blue or lavender or yellow—and sometimes all three. For another, the once plain whiteboard has been replaced with an