feet before sliding into the water and disappearing beneath the surface.
"You are one beautiful man," Gracie muttered, and waited for him to surface before going in farther.
He popped up a few yards away, shaking water out of his hair, and wiped his hands across his face, then waved her out.
She slid into the water with barely a ripple and swam toward him, straight into his waiting arms.
"You swim like a fish, barely disrupting the water. How do you do that?" John asked.
"Long body, long legs and arms. Not a lot of flopping and splashing, I guess."
After that, they swam, and floated, and talked and swam some more. When they finally got tired, they walked out of the water and back up the beach, spread out their towels, then knelt.
The hot sand all around them was calling Gracie's name. She leaned forward, smoothed out a space above the top of her towel, and then wrote, "I, Gracie, am here."
John watched the whole ritual, smiling to himself, and when she had finished, he smoothed out the sand at the top of his towel and wrote, "John sees you."
Gracie watched. With every word, with every action, she kept letting John Gatlin a little farther into her world, anchoring her ever deeper into this place. Satisfied that she'd left her mark, however fleeting, she went belly down on the towel.
John stretched out face up on the towel beside her, and as soon as he was sure she was okay, he relaxed.
Kids played nearby. Gracie could hear their squeals and laughter. The sun warmed her back and dried the suit on her body. John was so close she could hear him breathing, and she felt safe, and closed her eyes.
John watched her, thinking what it would be like to wake up beside her every morning. Wondering, as Gracie had, what magic in the Universe had thrown them together, grateful as hell that it happened.
A yellow beach ball came flying through the air, straight toward Gracie's head. Reacting on instinct, John slapped it away just before it hit her, and then sat up to look around for the owner. It didn't take long to see a woman and two little girls running their way.
"We're so sorry," the woman said. "Girls, apologize please."
Gracie raised up on one elbow and looked over her shoulder.
"What's going on?"
"Just a runaway beach ball. All is well," John said.
"We're sorry," the girls said in unison, and then one of them moved closer to Gracie. Before her mother could stop her, she touched Gracie's scars.
"What happened?" she asked.
Gracie sat up. "I had an accident. What's your name?"
"Bronwyn. My sister's name is Bridgette. We're twins."
Gracie smiled. "I'm Gracie. It must be awesome to have a twin."
The mother was embarrassed. "Girls, get your ball and let's go. We're bothering."
But the twins were too fascinated by the scars on Gracie's chest and back to pay attention.
"Do they hurt?" Bronwyn asked.
"Not anymore," Gracie said.
"I'm not a very good kicker. We didn't mean for the ball to come toward you," Bridgette added.
"It wouldn't have hurt even if it had hit me. But it appears John saved me," Gracie said.
"Do you have to put medicine on them?" Bronwyn asked.
"I did when it happened, but not now."
The little girl jumped up and ran to her mother, dug through the beach bag she was carrying, and then came back with something clutched in her hand. She handed one to Bridgette and kept one.
"Mom puts these on us when we get hurt. They have medicine on them. It will make your booboos well, too."
And without hesitation, both girls peeled the wrapping off their Band-Aids, picked out a scar apiece, and gently stuck them on.
"There!" they said in unison.
"Thank you, so much," Gracie said. "I'm sure I'll be good as new in no time."
Satisfied with their good deed, the girls ran to get their ball.
Their mother smiled sheepishly at Gracie and quickly herded them away.
John leaned over and kissed Gracie square on the lips.
"What was that for?" Gracie asked.
"For being you," he said. "Let's go get our picnic stuff. I'm getting hungry."
They grabbed their towels and headed for the parking lot. John put his t-shirt on, and Gracie was reaching for hers when John stopped her.
"Want me to take the Band-Aids off?"
Gracie shook her head. "No. They're still full of love and good intentions."
"Just like you," John said, then got the ice chest, locked the car, and led the way to some shaded picnic tables.
Gracie sat on the bench as John began sorting