One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(23)

I could come back in a year and I bet nothing would be the same.

It was amazing how much time changed things—even those things, like earth itself, that seemed so constant.

On top of the dunes people walked through the tall grasses, exploring and looking out over the beach from above. Older kids were running, arms and legs flailing, down the huge sand piles and splashing into the water below with roaring laughter.

I made my way up toward the dunes and found a small worn-down footpath that climbed up, up, up, to the top of one of the dunes. My calves burned, and my toes dug into the soft, shifting sand.

Holy crap. I need to work out more.

I bent at the waist to catch my breath and calm my overexerted heart. The roots of the wispy beach grass stuck up in places, poking my feet, and the sun heated the sand. It was a wonder anything could grow where there seemed to be so little nutrients in the arid sand itself. Finally, at the top of the dune, I looked out onto Lake Michigan.

It was breathtaking.

The water stretched out forever, disappearing into the horizon. People below me were nothing more than little ants, dancing and moving around the beach. From that vantage point, I could see that the main strip of beach was packed tightly with families and umbrellas and volleyball games, but farther down, it was far less crowded. In the distance, large buildings that looked to be condos or really expensive vacation homes dotted the shoreline. Between the two, there were quiet stretches of beachfront that seemed cocooned from the chaos of the public beach area.

Intrigued, I headed in that direction, searching for a way to return to the shoreline. I smiled at a couple hiking and stopped to watch more kids hurl themselves down the dunes. They laughed and jeered at each other as one by one they raced down the steep slope.

No. Freaking. Way.

When I’d gotten to the quieter section of beach, there wasn’t a clear way to make it down to the water. Much farther along a set of wooden stairs zigzagged down the dune, but it appeared to be private property, and the last thing I needed was to get into trouble when I was so new in town.

I peered over the edge of what felt like a gigantic cliff. I tested my footing with a little bounce. If I could just get down to the water, I could explore a little and then walk my way back up the beach toward town. I searched a little more until I found where the sand dune wasn’t quite so steep. It seemed stable enough, so with a final deep breath, I carefully stepped down.

The sand was dryer and more like quicksand than I anticipated.

“Shit!” I plopped to my butt and inelegantly slid part of the way down the dune. My bag bounced behind me as I tried my best to not face-plant. It slipped from my shoulder and careened off the dune, landing below me with a plop. Finally, my heels dug into the moving sand and slowed me to a stop about two-thirds of the way down the dune.

Embarrassed, I looked around to see if anyone had seen me make a fool of myself, and—thankfully—no one was nearby. I caught my breath and looked for a safer way to get to the beach. Preferably one that didn’t include breaking my neck. I could always walk up the beach and retrieve my bag.

I tried to stand, but the earth shifted below me.

Well, shit.

Going back up wasn’t an option, and straight below me was a harsh drop-off that would certainly end in a broken leg or two.

I hugged my knees and clutched the grass, trying to figure out how to get myself out of yet another mess I’d thrown myself into. From around a fallen tree, voices floated up. I ducked behind the tall grasses.

Clambering over the trunk of the tree, little Penny came into view. My heartbeat ticked faster as I looked for her dad.

Then I heard his deep, commanding voice before I saw him. “Just be careful, Pickle.”

I hid lower, praying they would just walk by and I wouldn’t have to admit that I’d gotten myself stranded on the side of a sand dune that was determined to kill me.

Wyatt had on dark sunglasses and a pair of swim trunks that did nothing to hide his ridiculous body. His languid movements came into view, and my breath hitched. His hair was tousled and lifted in the breeze. He was so much more than cute—he was absolutely, ridiculously gorgeous. His brother Lee walked beside him, and the pretty redhead from the book club—Annie, I remembered—bent to look at something Penny had found in the sand.

My thighs burned from crouching, and the heat from the sand was starting to become unbearable.

“Please keep walking. Just leave,” I whispered to myself.

It was a quiet stretch of beach, but I hoped none of them would spot my bag or look up and see my helpless and stupid self, clinging to dear life on the grass.

I’d rather die.

The group moved closer and I closed my eyes. Maybe if I pretended to be invisible, they’d just keep walking and I could succumb to my death in peace.

“Planning to stay up there all day?”

My eyes opened to see Wyatt directly below me, his hands on his hips and a frown across his stupid face. He looked like a cranky dad—Penny’s incredibly hot, cranky dad, actually.

“I’m fine.” The fake cheeriness I tried to infuse in my voice sounded crazed in my ears.

“Looks to me like you’re fucked.”

I adjusted my feet, and more sand trickled over the cliff. Wyatt sidestepped the curtain of debris that fell and let loose a heavy, annoyed sigh.

He held up his arms. “Come on.”

“What?” I stared down at him as I clutched the grasses that were the only things keeping me from falling off the dune.