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Oh. She didn’t know where to look. The man obviously workedout,and his skin was such a nice even brown. Definitely what her sister would’ve labeled “an excellent physical specimen.” She glanced away, forcing herself to concentrate on the correct breaststroke kick.
“Sleep well?” Dan was like a seal, slipping through the water beside her. A playful, brown-eyed, rather-too-cute-to-look-at seal.
“Yes. You?”
“Yeah. Gonna be a hot one today. Maybe a storm later.” He pulled ahead of her slightly. “So, you like to swim.”
She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”
“Play any sports?”
“Does Pilates count?”
“Nope.”
“Well, in that case, no. My face goes bright red whenever I exercise and stays that way for hours. People always think there’s something wrong with me.”
He laughed. “Well, you’re an excellent musician. Can’t be good at everything, I s’pose.”
“Do you always talk when you swim?”
“Sick of my voice, huh?”
Actually, no. His voice possessed a timbre that soothed the jagged spaces of her heart. “I don’t mind.”
“Good.”
The water gleamed, the warmth in the air nothing like the summer heat she remembered from the tropics of her childhood but enough to make her glad for the chance to cool off. She concentrated on her stroke, on her kick, on her breathing, trying to ignore the man swimming nearby. Fortunately, Muskoka wasn’t short of attractive outlooks. She closed her eyes, heard the pines sing in the light breeze, and felt the tiniest easing of tension.
“Hey.”
Sarah gasped and opened her eyes.
“You okay?” Dan was treading water, watching her carefully.
“Yeah.”
“Having fun?”
“Yes.”
She was? Sarah began a fast crawl back to the beach.
“A race is it? You’re on.” He powered through the water, easily overtaking her to reach the shore first.
Men were the same the world over. “Hey, that’s not fair! You’re so much bigger and stronger than me. Anyway, what happened to ladies before gentlemen?”
He chuckled. “I guess I’m not always a gentleman. And I definitely don’t like to back down from a challenge.”
Dan toweled himself off as she waded through the shallow water. He handed her the towel she’d dropped before, looking away as she quickly dried herself. As she sat nearby, he glanced at the scars on her leg.
Yep, they sure helped her feel beautiful. She wrapped the towel more tightly around her. Thank God for one-piece swimsuits that mostly hid the web of angry red ridges around her left hip and across her stomach. Such ugly, raw reminders. If, by some miracle, she ever did get married, her husband was in for a nice surprise.
“I have a few of my own.” He pointed to the side of his jaw, his knees and hands.
“Yeah, no. Thanks for playing, but I think I win.”
He did the half-smile thing again. “Mmm, maybe you do.”
