Farron took the sandy path that wound its way through a maze of dunes from the house where she and her brother Sammy lived to the beach cottage. The day was bright and warm, winter's coolness waning in a prelude to spring. Levi had lived in the cottage for a while but had given it up a few years ago for more rustic accommodations. Since then, the cottage had become Farron's sanctuary.
And now she'd invited Sol into her quiet place, literally carried him into it, filling it with his scent and the memory of a stolen kiss. She was certain the place would never feel the same again.
She climbed the stairs leading to the porch, noticing the small structure with more critical eyes. The gray shingled exterior could use a new coat of paint. The railing around the porch had more or less fallen apart last year and instead of repairing it she'd just taken it down. For all the cottages' flaws, she appreciated its rustic charm. She liked things old and used. She liked things simple. She wondered what Sol thought of his less than luxurious accommodations.
Farron held no illusions that other members of the tribe considered her and her brother's nothing more than redneck swampers. It came with the territory. The breathers in this part of the panhandle numbered less than twenty and tended to be on the reclusive side and not very close-knit. She and her brother's lived off the land and the ocean. They ate gator on a regular basis along with whatever else they caught. Her wardrobe consisted of cut-off shorts and thrift store jeans. She owned one dress, and none of those swim dresses made of the high-tech fabrics Caris and Quinn were so fond of. She'd never cared her family wasn't as well-off, that they were less sophisticated, and she wouldn't start caring now just because Sol had washed up on her beach.
She doubted Sol had ever had to worry about money a day in his life. If their tribe had a royal family it was the Kelley's, and Sol was the prince, and he carried himself that way, with an entitled swagger that she should probably find unattractive. But Farron was honest enough to admit there wasn't anything about Sol she found unattractive.
Unfortunately, she got the impression he liked girls with a little polish, a sense of style, two things she desperately lacked. She looked down at the pot in her hands. He'd probably never eaten canned soup either, but it was all she had.
Raising her chin, she noticed the exterior door off the bedroom was cracked open and walked up to it.
"Sol?" she called, not wanting to catch him unaware. When he didn't answer, she nudged the door the rest of the way open with her toe and peeked inside.
The bed was empty, the sheets wrestled into a haphazard pile at the end of the mattress. She padded through the room and into the kitchenette and put the soup on the stove. She supposed it was a good sign he was up and about and assumed he'd gone for a much needed swim.
She still couldn't believe he'd survived the explosion that had destroyed his boat. She'd been certain he was dead, and she wasn't about to question why she'd been the one to find him. She was just thankful she had.
It hadn't been easy carrying him to the cottage. She was strong, but Sol was at least three inches taller than her, and while he was lean, it was all hard, dense muscle. By the time she'd mounted the stairs and dropped him onto the bed, she'd been breathless and not only from exertion. The object of her secret obsession was in her house. And he'd asked to stay.
Setting the stove to warm, she went back outside and though there was no reason for her to, she sat on the porch to wait. She wanted to see for herself he was fully recovered. She waved at an older couple strolling through the tide, collecting shells. The only other people on the beach were a mother and her young son camped thirty yards away under an umbrella. Just when she was starting to think maybe Sol had changed his mind and performed one of his disappearing acts, he came out of the surf wearing nothing but a sheen of Gulf moisture. Any doubts as to the extent of his recovery were instantly put to rest. He didn't look sick anymore. He didn't look weak. He looked like a totally different man.
