squinted once-in-a-while glance at the end of their poles in hopes of big drama and a great story to later share over a delicious fried fish meal. They stand there on the shore with their poles stuck in the sand for hours, displaying the patience of Job.
I pass one old man, and, knowing that any proud fisherman is going to open up his Styrofoam container and show off his latest catch, I ask, “Any luck today?”
The old man pops the lid, as protocol promised, and proudly points down at a few fish still flopping around in the water before becoming the fisherman’s Saturday night dinner. Four medium spots and one big blue fish cling to life, when very soon hot grease and corn meal will be clinging to their gills.
“Gon’ be good with some coleslaw, and Texas Pete, and a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer!” the old man exclaims with wide eyes and a toothless grin. “Gon’ be mighty good,” he reassures. We both laugh at the pleasure of sharing this wonderful, sacred life on the beach.
“Well, good luck!” I wave good-bye and start heading home again. Suddenly, I am frozen in my tracks by another human being on the beach. I see what looks like a vision of Adonis running toward me. In the late afternoon sun, this man looks like a dream. Orange and red sun rays beaming down on his bronzed skin and sun-bleached blond hair, make this incredibly beautiful man seem surreal. I feel as if I am watching a Coppertone commercial or witnessing a mirage in slow motion. His ripped stomach muscles glisten with sweat in the sunshine as he plows his way through the sand and surf. Big thighs; strong, shapely arms; and broad shoulders you want to cry on. He looks like a golden thoroughbred in motion.
Our eyes connect. They lock for what seems like an eternity as I continue my slow stroll, and he continues his steady run, both of us moving closer and closer, still locked in each other’s gaze. I feel something weird, like a laser searing right through me. And as uncomfortable and as unnerved as I feel, I still cannot unlock myself from his gaze, nor from the oddly familiar warmth I find in the sparkling sea-green eyes of this beautiful bronzed being on the beach.
“Afternoon,” he says with a bright smile as he pushes past me.
“Afternoon,” I reply with a brilliant smile of my own.
We pass each other, yet I can still feel his electricity. I close my eyes, wanting to remember every aspect of this sudden and uncanny encounter. I smile to myself and turn to look over my shoulder for one last glimpse of Adonis, and as I turn, so does he. As he runs and I walk, moving in opposite directions, our eyes lock once again. He smiles like he knows me. I wave like I want him to.
He continues his run down the beach.
I keep walking home as the sun, in all of her amber splendor, begins to set over our Topsail Beach, preparing for nightfall and another day.
Chapter Ten
I get back to the beach house, feeling guilty that another man captured my attention, but the guy was beautiful—and attentive. That one moment of exchanging glances with a stranger was rather nice and innocent enough. I wish my husband’s gaze was still that powerful. I know I should be fighting for the survival of my marriage right now, not looking over my shoulder at a beautiful bronzed boy on the beach, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop myself today—and obviously, neither could he. It seems as if I know him from somewhere. Who knows? Maybe in another life.
As I reach the beach house and make my way up the stairs, I am determined to take this pent-up sexual passion to my husband—where it belongs—for a little late-afternoon delight. I pray he’s still snuggled in bed, watching the game right now, waiting for me. I slip past my parents, both deeply engrossed in an old movie. Aunt Joy is sound asleep; her novel still nestled in her lap. I slip into our bedroom to seduce Garrett.
The lights are out. Shades drawn. Perfect. I slip out of my clothes and climb into bed with
I pass one old man, and, knowing that any proud fisherman is going to open up his Styrofoam container and show off his latest catch, I ask, “Any luck today?”
The old man pops the lid, as protocol promised, and proudly points down at a few fish still flopping around in the water before becoming the fisherman’s Saturday night dinner. Four medium spots and one big blue fish cling to life, when very soon hot grease and corn meal will be clinging to their gills.
“Gon’ be good with some coleslaw, and Texas Pete, and a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer!” the old man exclaims with wide eyes and a toothless grin. “Gon’ be mighty good,” he reassures. We both laugh at the pleasure of sharing this wonderful, sacred life on the beach.
“Well, good luck!” I wave good-bye and start heading home again. Suddenly, I am frozen in my tracks by another human being on the beach. I see what looks like a vision of Adonis running toward me. In the late afternoon sun, this man looks like a dream. Orange and red sun rays beaming down on his bronzed skin and sun-bleached blond hair, make this incredibly beautiful man seem surreal. I feel as if I am watching a Coppertone commercial or witnessing a mirage in slow motion. His ripped stomach muscles glisten with sweat in the sunshine as he plows his way through the sand and surf. Big thighs; strong, shapely arms; and broad shoulders you want to cry on. He looks like a golden thoroughbred in motion.
Our eyes connect. They lock for what seems like an eternity as I continue my slow stroll, and he continues his steady run, both of us moving closer and closer, still locked in each other’s gaze. I feel something weird, like a laser searing right through me. And as uncomfortable and as unnerved as I feel, I still cannot unlock myself from his gaze, nor from the oddly familiar warmth I find in the sparkling sea-green eyes of this beautiful bronzed being on the beach.
“Afternoon,” he says with a bright smile as he pushes past me.
“Afternoon,” I reply with a brilliant smile of my own.
We pass each other, yet I can still feel his electricity. I close my eyes, wanting to remember every aspect of this sudden and uncanny encounter. I smile to myself and turn to look over my shoulder for one last glimpse of Adonis, and as I turn, so does he. As he runs and I walk, moving in opposite directions, our eyes lock once again. He smiles like he knows me. I wave like I want him to.
He continues his run down the beach.
I keep walking home as the sun, in all of her amber splendor, begins to set over our Topsail Beach, preparing for nightfall and another day.
Chapter Ten
I get back to the beach house, feeling guilty that another man captured my attention, but the guy was beautiful—and attentive. That one moment of exchanging glances with a stranger was rather nice and innocent enough. I wish my husband’s gaze was still that powerful. I know I should be fighting for the survival of my marriage right now, not looking over my shoulder at a beautiful bronzed boy on the beach, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop myself today—and obviously, neither could he. It seems as if I know him from somewhere. Who knows? Maybe in another life.
As I reach the beach house and make my way up the stairs, I am determined to take this pent-up sexual passion to my husband—where it belongs—for a little late-afternoon delight. I pray he’s still snuggled in bed, watching the game right now, waiting for me. I slip past my parents, both deeply engrossed in an old movie. Aunt Joy is sound asleep; her novel still nestled in her lap. I slip into our bedroom to seduce Garrett.
The lights are out. Shades drawn. Perfect. I slip out of my clothes and climb into bed with
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