- Home
- The Summer Girls
Page 53
Page 53
“Carson?” Blake called again. When she didn’t reply, he set down her kite and trotted to her side.
“You okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
Carson swallowed hard and shook her head. “I’m scared,” she croaked out.
“Okay,” Blake responded, his tone annoyingly like a therapist’s, but reassuring nonetheless. He bent lower at the knees so he could gaze into her eyes straight on. “About what? Getting hurt?”
She nodded.
“You’ve trained for this. You’re ready. And I’ll be right beside you.”
Carson shook her head again, trying to formulate her fears into words. “I keep seeing that shark.”
Blake sighed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was kiting in Breach Inlet and came down smack on the head of a shark?” She heard his laugh resonate in his chest. “I scared the shark more than it scared me, I promise you. But I just shifted my kite and in the next second I was airborne. That’s what rocks about kite surfing. You ride the wind out there. That’s what it’s all about. You jump up, catch air, maybe grab the board, then crash to the sea. You were made for this sport, Carson. Go on out there and get stoked.”
She felt a surge of adrenaline, and gritting her teeth, she nodded.
Blake trotted back to adjust the long lines that led from her harness to the bright yellow and black kite. Carson held on to her control bar and focused on the half-moon-shaped kite bobbing at the end of the line. On his count, they moved in tandem toward the water; then he lifted the kite high into the air, called out the signal, and let go.
Once the wind hit the kite, Carson felt the strong pull toward the ocean. She gripped the bar, leaned back, and felt a tremendous gust of power. In the time it took to suck in a breath, she was skimming across the tips of the waves, headed out to sea, the pilot of a single wing! It was intoxicating. More thrilling than anything she’d experienced on a board before.
Far out from shore, Carson felt secure with her wingman out there with her. Dragging her butt against the waves, Carson was reminded that she was still a beginner. Whenever she lost wind and collapsed into the water, Blake was right there to help her back up. The reputation of Charleston as the city of manners extended to Sullivan’s Island. The riders at Station 28 were a kindly group—and forgiving.
In celebration of her first day on the water, Blake had invited his cousin and Carson’s old surfing buddy Ethan to join them. Ethan’s wife, Toy, and their children formed her cheering squad, whooping and calling out her name whenever she drew close to shore. Before too long Carson called it a day and glided into shore. She collapsed on her towel, elated but exhausted.
“My arms feel like rubber,” she moaned.
“You did real good out there,” Blake told her. “For a rookie.”
Carson peeked out from the hand covering her eyes from the sun. “I thought you were going to say for a girl.”
“I’m not that stupid,” Blake said with a laugh.
“Good call,” Ethan teased.
“There aren’t hardly any girls out there,” Toy added. “I’m glad to see you represent our sex. Woot, woot,” she called out, rolling her arm in the air.
Carson really liked Toy Legare. She was cute in a Christie Brinkley kind of way, all wild blond hair and curves. She wore a modest, one-piece black swimsuit and was attentive to her children, who were busy building a sand castle a few feet away.
Ethan and Blake grabbed the gear and took their turn to go out for some serious kite surfing. Carson and Toy sat against the beach chairs and watched from their island on the sand as the two men sprinted to the water.
“Those two are just kids when they’re near the water,” Toy said, slathering suntan lotion on her arms.
“They look more like brothers than cousins,” Carson said, watching them head to the sea. Both men were tall and lanky, had brown eyes and heads of dark curls. But it was more than just looks. The way they moved, the swagger of their hips, the sinewy arms. “Maybe even twins.”
“A lot of the boys in that family have that brown curly hair. But those two really are like peas and carrots,” Toy replied. “Their mamas used to claim they each had gained another son, they were at each other’s houses so much.”
“It’s interesting that they went into the same line of work.”
“Marine biology?” Toy asked. “Not so surprising. They’re both water bugs. Blake’s working with dolphins and Ethan works for the SC Aquarium.” She added with a smug smile, “With me.” Toy applied lotion to her legs. “Ethan’s in charge of the big tank, so he’s into fish of all kinds.” She laughed lightly. “Me, I’m all about sea turtles.” She handed the tube of lotion to Carson, then leaned back, pressing her palms on the towel as she faced the sky, eyes closed.
Carson knew that Toy was being modest. She was the director of the sea turtle hospital at the aquarium, an impressive and high-profile position.
“How long have you been married?” Carson asked her.
“Oh, gosh, it’s got to be seven years already. Goes fast.”
Carson looked over to the two children playing in the sand. The little boy couldn’t have been older than six. But the girl, even though she was petite, had to be double that.
Toy opened one eye and followed Carson’s gaze. A crooked grin eased across her face. “I know what you’re thinking. That’s my little girl, Lovie. She’s my daughter from before we got married. Ethan’s her daddy in all ways that count, though. He’s a great father. You know,” she said coyly, “Blake will be a good family man like Ethan, too.”
Carson squeezed some lotion onto her arms. “Why hasn’t Blake married yet? I’d expected he’d be snatched up by now.”
“It’s not for lack of girls trying, let me tell you!” Toy said with a laugh. “I don’t know. He traveled around a lot with his work. You never saw a mama so happy to see her baby come home as Linda Legare was when Blake announced he was going to study here with NOAA. Girls started dropping by the house like flies on a sugar cube. He dated around, of course. There was one girl we thought might be the one, but they broke up last year.” She leaned in closer. “I was glad. She was pretty, but she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean.”