Jody slipped her feet into turquoise rubber flip-flops and peered into her beach bag to make sure she had not forgotten anything. Sunscreen, a soft blue-and-white blanket, a beach towel, a small radio, a thermal mug of ice water, a package of crackers, flavored lip balm, the book she had purchased the day she arrived and had yet to finish. The long awaited weekend was over. She swung the bag over her shoulder and, locking the motel room behind her, set out for her first full day on the beach in many years.

It was early, not quite ten, when she descended the few short steps from the boardwalk to the sand—early enough that she would get a prime spot on the beach, late enough that the surf fishermen had taken their buckets of bait and disappeared till later that afternoon. She slipped off the flip-flops, wiggled her toes into the warm sand happily, and smiled.The sun was already blazing overhead, and a shift in the wind had banished the flies. She was going to enjoy every minute of this vacation.

Humming as she crossed the beach, she debated her options. Too close to the lifeguard stand and there'd be love-struck girls kicking sand on her as they jockeyed for the optimum positions to be noticed. Too close to the ocean and before noon, she'd be surrounded by toddlers. Selecting a spot that was just the right distance from both ocean and lifeguards, she spread her blanket on the sand and proceeded to make herself comfortable.

First the sunscreen, which she lathered on all those body parts left exposed by the bikini—which had somehow appeared to be more conservative back in Marlene's shop—and on her face. Her fair skin was already pink from the previous two days in the sun, and she didn't want to take any chances. Rolling the beach towel into a tubular pillow, she placed it behind her head, lay back, closed her eyes, and rested for a few minutes.

It was far too quiet. Yesterday and the day before there had been eleven of them there on the beach, laughing and chatting and becoming reacquainted. It had been great fun.

She turned on the small radio, found a classic rock station, and settled back down, thinking back over the weekend. How many of the girls had stayed the same. How many of them had changed. Sharon had gained forty pounds—ten pounds with each child, she had laughed self-consciously, waving several inches' worth of baby photographs under Jody's nose, Lindsey, their favorite ditzy blonde, had fooled everyone by not being quite so ditzy after all, having started her own interior design business right out of college and becoming wildly successful. Carla had fulfilled her dreams of law school, Julie had dropped out of college in her sophomore year to marry a navy man and moved to California where he was based. This one had stopped smoking, that one had started. Over the course of the weekend, Jody had waded through endless envelopes of photographs—weddings and babies, mostly, and everyone there had seemed to have a significant other.

Everyone but Jody, that is.

She squirmed a little, repositioning her hips and digging her heels into the sand.

Well, it wasn't that there hadn't ever been anyone in her life. There had been men, now and then, but there had always been something missing, somehow, no matter how handsome or interesting or attractive they had been.

She had tried to explain it to Natalie the night before. It just seemed that, all her life, the men she met had lacked that special something… that spark that made the difference between interesting and irresistible. Between handsome and to die for. Between attractive and I’ll-follow-you-anywhere. Between sexy and sensational.

Natalie had laughed and said that Jody was too picky for her own good.

Jody had tried to explain that what she wanted—what deep in her soul she knew she needed—was a man who could turn her knees to jelly, a man who could make her bottom lip quiver with just a smile. A man who could turn her inside out by merely walking into the room. She'd had infatuations, she'd had one or two short-lived affairs that had left her knowing that there was something more, something bigger, deeper. She wanted passion. She wanted a man who could sweep her off her feet. She wanted to be swept away.

"You want From Here to Eternity," Natalie had nodded knowingly. "We all wanted that, once upon a time. Unfortunately, most of us have had to settle for something less."

"I don't want to settle," Jody had shaken her head. "I've waited too long. I'm not going to settle."

"You could be very old before you meet a man like that," Natalie cautioned.

"I think I already did." Jody had sighed.

"What?" Natalie grabbed Jody's arm. "Where? When?"

And Jody had proceeded to relive that moment when Jeremy Noble had first walked through the big front door of the Bishop's Inn. A few inches over six feet tall, broad shoulders, a lean, athletic body. Brown hair that fell over his collar like fringe, deep blue eyes in a face more rugged than handsome. As a private investigator, Jeremy had walked into the chaos that followed Laura Bishop's disappearance and had taken charge, commanded order, and surveyed the facts quickly and efficiently. With the help or Laura's brother and a family friend., Jeremy had led the search for Laura, had assisted in locating and returning her within twenty-four hours. Jeremy had been a rock, had never hesitated for a moment, had never doubted for an instant that Laura would be returned safely to her family.

Right then and there, Jody had decided that she wanted a man like Jeremy Noble. But then again, what woman wouldn't?

Jeremy, of the easy smile, the quick wit, and the sharp intelligence. Jeremy, who was brave in the face of danger, whose mere presence in the inn had made for several sleepless nights back in June when he'd stayed for a few days after Laura was found and brought home. Jeremy, who was as close to being a real hero as any man Jody had ever met.

Jody's fingers, sifting through the sand to the right of her blanket, located a broken piece of scallop shell, and absently, she began to make little roads with it in the hot sand.

If she'd been a different sort of woman, she'd have made an obvious play for Jeremy that week. But things had been so jumbled, the terror following Laura's abduction, then her rescue from a house that had been set afire, well, it just hadn't seemed like the ideal time to make a major move on one of the rescuers. It would have seemed, well, tacky. Inappropriate. Opportunistic, under the circumstances.

Although Jeremy had seemed interested in her.

Of course, that could have been the crab soup. Or the flan.

Jeremy had loved her flan…

To her left, a small band of teenage girls were claiming their turf, that very spot near the lifeguard stand that Jody had earlier rejected. Their laughter floated across the beach on a brisk sea breeze, and from the distance she watched their antics as they set up their multicol-ored towels, helped one another apply sunscreen, tossed one another paperback books or magazines.

Jody dropped back on her blanket and closed her eyes. The past weekend with "the girls" had brought back memories of summer days they had shared so long ago. From across the years, snatches of conversations drifted with such clarity that she opened her eyes and looked around to make certain that somehow she had not been thrust back in time.

The scent of Coppertone and the sounds of summer blaring on radios all across the beach had remained the same, though the anthems that year had been varied. That last summer they had baked in the hot sun to Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark," the Pointer Sisters' Jump," Steve Perry's "Oh Sherry," and Rod Stewart's "Infatuation," Huey Newton and the News' "The Heart of Rock and Roll," Madonna's "Borderline," and Lionel Richie's "Hello." Tina Turner's "What's Love Got to Do with It" was getting a lot of air time as the season had drawn to an end. Jody closed her eyes and drifted off, trying to remember the words to Cyndi Lauper's "Time after Time."

An hour or so later, disoriented from dreams filled with faces, snatches of conversations, and songs long forgotten, Jody sat up slowly. Yes, she was in fact there, alone, on the beach at Ocean Point. From her beach bag, she drew out her water bottle and took a long sip. The nap had relaxed her, had brought back that old, languid feeling of lying too long in the sun, oiled and content and having no particular place to go, nothing important to do. Jody had forgotten just how good that feeling was. She'd make it a point to take more time to sun herself when she returned to Bishop's Cove. She'd been spending entirely too much time in the kitchen and too little time on the beach.

Laura had often offered to hire someone to help Jody in the kitchen, but Jody had always resisted. Maybe she should give in and have Laura do just that. If it freed up even an hour or so each day, it would be worth it. She'ddefinitely discuss it with Laura when she went back. Right now, her body having absorbed all the sun it could tolerate, she would stroll down to the water and perhaps take a dip.

While she slept, the temperature had skyrocketed and the beach had filled in around her with bathers and sun worshippers of every size, shape, and age. She picked her way carefully through the noisy rows of towels and blankets that Uttered the beach, stepped around the sand castles built by busy children, made her way to the water's edge, and walked into the ocean without hesitation. It was colder than she'd anticipated, and she turned her back to the cresting wave that was just about to break. A second, unexpected wave slapped her from behind and she lurched forward. Turning back to face the sea, a third, larger wave broke over her without warning, spinning her around and dragging her out and under, she emerged with a mouthful of saltwater and the top ofher bikini half filled with sand. She sought the cooperation of the next wave to wash out the sand and help her back to shore.

'That's some undertow," noted the middle-aged man who stood about three feet behind her, holding the hand of a six- or seven-year-old girl.

"You can say that again," Jody mumbled as she casually attempted to extract her legs from the ocean's clutches while at the same time seeking to salvage some dignity by pulling up the wayward top of her bikini.

She d forgotten what it felt like to have the water pull at her like that. Next time she'd be more cautious and wouldn't just rush in.

"Ouch! She exclaimed as a sharp pain sliced through the bottom of her right foot. Balancing on the left, she lifted the foot for inspection and found a gash almost two inches long, running blood. She must have stepped on a sharp piece of shell. As she dipped the foot into the water to clean it off, the little girl behind her yelled, "No!"

"What?" Jody asked.

"Sharks! If you get blood in the water, sharks will come!" The girl began to hop up and down.

"I think it takes a little more blood than…"

"Daddy!" The girl continued to shriek. "Make her stop! She'll make the sharks come!"

"She was watching the shark special on the Discovery channel last night…" Daddy smiled sheepishly, but did nothing to quiet the child.

Jody merely nodded and limped back to her blanket, trying her best to avoid getting sand in the offending cut that left a trail of red splotches across the beach. Plunking her butt unceremoniously on the blanket, she grabbed her water bottle and poured out careful drops to wash the sand away from the jagged wound in the bottom of her foot. Rummaging inner beach bag, she found a tissue, which she held against the cut until the worst of the flow ceased. She took a drink of the now warm water and lay back against the blanket again. Her short battle with the ocean had left her with the ball of her foot throbbing and an irritating sprinkling of sand under her bikini. She shifted uncomfortably and closed her eyes.

The sounds from the blanket to her left—those of a young mother inspecting the morning's collection of shells with her toddler—brought back memories of Jody's last summer as an only child, the summer before her brother Jack was born. Jody had been five that year, and the vision of those days on the beach with her mother returned now with crystal clarity. Jody had had a big yellow plastic bucket, and every morning right after breakfast, she and her mother would comb the beaches for pretty shells and interesting pieces of driftwood that had washed ashore during the night. At the beach, her mother's long, thick, dark brown hair—usually worn loose to fall in unruly curls around her pretty face— would be twisted into a long, casual braid that hung down the middle of her back. Jody had loved to sit behind her mother's beach chair and play with that braid, wrapping it around the back of her mother's head in big concentric circles or just holding on to it to feel its weight, tracing lines down her arms with the fat curl at the end.

It had been a long time since she'd thought about that, Jody realized as the warmth of the sun began to lull her once again. What, she wondered sleepily, had become of all those shells they had collected over the years…

A blast from a passing radio startled her, and she sat up, not quite sure how long she'd been reminiscing, but knowing it must be close to lunch time. Jody debated her options. She could walk up onto the boardwalk and grab lunch—assuring that she'd lose her prime spot on the beach if she vacated it for too long—or she could eat the crackers and drink water. Opting for the crackers, she munched and washed them down with the now very warm spring water. Finishing her snack, she decided to read for a while, turning onto her stomach and opening the book. She missed the chatter of her friends, and wished that one of them had stayed an extra day.

Last night they had gone en masse to the House of Crabs for seafood, where they had sat for hours laughing and talking. Tonight Jody had plans for a gourmet dinner at the highly touted Joanna's—reputedly the best restaurant on the island—at the end of the boardwalk. It was said that Joanna's chef had trained in Paris and made a roue like no other. Like all professionals who excel at their craft, Jody couldn't resist comparison, and planned to order one of his specialties tonight.

At least she'd have a great dinner, she sighed. Of course, after dinner, she'd end up back at her room— alone—where she would probably read until she fell asleep with the book in her hand.

Right now, what she really wanted was to cool off. A swim would be perfect, but a second trip to the ocean with its wicked undertow held little appeal. That left the motel's pool, only a short hop away across blistering sand. Gathering her things, Jody dug her flip-flops from the bottom of her bag and started a slow trek, favoring her cut foot, to the steps. Once back at the motel, she brushed off the irritating grains of sand that dung to her since her dip in the ocean and eased herself into the pool, which was surprisingly empty.

The water was cooling, soothing, and Jody floated easily for a few minutes, leaning her head back to allow her hair to fan around her. She began a languid lap the length of the pool, all the while trying to remember the last time anything had felt better than the water that flowed around her body. Soon she found a natural rhythm, and it carried her back and forth, back and forth. Reveling in the easy motions that took her from one end of the pool to the other, Jody swam until her arms began to ache. When she'd had enough, she walked to the shallow end and up the concrete steps. Grabbing her towel from the lounge where she'd left it, she leaned forward to dry off her hair when she sensed that she was being watched.

Jody glanced around the pool area, noticing that most of the other motel patrons seemed to be sleeping in the shade or engrossed in reading their books or magazines. Shaking off the sensation, she dried her legs, then spread the towel over the lounge. She would sit in the sun and allow it to dry her off while she too read. She slipped on her sunglasses, leaned back against the cushion, and opened her book.

She'd read no more than three pages when she felt it again, the feeling that someone's eyes were on her. This time, however, when Jody looked up, there was a man walking toward her. He was tall with dark glasses and brown hair, exactly like the hero she'd been reading about in her book. A shiver went up her spine. Surely he was a hallucination, a mirage born of sun and heat on the smoldering concrete around the pool. It would have to be so, because he looked exactly like…

"Jody?" The mirage stopped at the foot of her lounge.

Later she would recall thinking that, for a mirage, its voice was awfully deep and rich, much like the hot fudge on the sundae she and Natalie had shared the night before.

"Jody?" Her hallucination repeated, and she smiled, thinking how wonderful fiction was, how it could take you away and almost make you believe that…

The mirage grabbed her by the toe and gave it a tweak. She slid her glasses down onto her nose and looked up.

This had to be a dream.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" He asked, looking mildly amused.

"Jeremy?" She gasped. "Jeremy Noble?"

"Ah, so you do remember me. I was beginning to get a little worried there for a minute." He grabbed a nearby chair and swung it around so that he could sit next to her. Which was, in his estimation, preferable to standing there and looking down on that long, lean body.

Whatever had made him think that Jody was all angles? In her little bikini, she was all curves.

Jeremy sat.

"I hope you don't mind if I join you…"

"No. Of course not. I'm just so surprised to see you."

Had she said surprised? Perhaps dazzled said it better. Or possibly incredulous…

"What are you doing in Ocean Point?" Jody forced a nonchalance she wished she felt.

Jeremy leaned forward, his clasped hands falling between his knees, and he wondered if he should tell her the truth, that he had followed her. Just then she sat up and removed her sunglasses completely, and those amber eyes seemed to swallow him whole.

"I'm on vacation," he told her. That was the truth.

"Why, so am I!"

If she blinked, would he disappear? Was he in fact really there? Were her fellow loungers at this very moment exchanging nervous glances as she leaned forward and addressed what was, in reality, an empty chair?

"And it's been years since I've been to the New Jersey shore…" Also true.

"Me, too. I spent every summer growing up in Ocean Point."

"So did I."

"Why, that's unbelievable! Did we talk about that at the inn?" She frowned. Surely she would have remembered that, even in the midst of the craziness that had colored his stay there in June.

"No, we didn't. I just found myself with a few days off, and I decided to spend them at the inn." He stopped, feeling awkward. "Actually, the truth is that I just wanted to see you, Jody. Laura told me where I could find you. I hope you don't mind that I followed you here."

"You followed me here?" Had he really said that?

"I'm sorry, maybe I should have called you first. To see if it was okay with you. To see if maybe you had other plans. If you don't want me to stay, I can…"

"No. No. No other plans. Of course you should stay. Why shouldn't you stay?" She was totally flustered at the thought that this man had followed her from Maryland. "You should definitely stay."

"Great" He smiled and her heart did a flip-flop. "What are you doing for dinner?"