“I'm going to change real quick,” I told him as I opened the bathroom door. “Make yourself at home.”
Noah sat gingerly on the edge of my bed, looking around at my things. I had a poster of the local tropical fish hanging on the wall and pictures of my family pinned below it. He leaned over to look at a family portrait from the last time I was home. A slight smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and I ducked into the bathroom.
I changed as quickly as I could, managing to brush my teeth, put on waterproof mascara, brush my hair, run a razor across my legs, and get in my swimsuit in less than three minutes. I debated between a one-peice swimsuit and a bikini, finally daring to go with the bikini. Even though we would be in the ocean, I was willing to risk losing my suit. I smirked as I thought about the possibility of losing it on purpose with him around. I came out and handed him a bottle of sunscreen.
“If you'll get my back, I'll get yours,” I offered, turning around. He quickly stood up from the bed and took the lotion. His big hands rubbed it into my skin in smooth strokes. I had to concentrate on not sighing with pleasure as he did it. “Your turn.”
He wiggled out of his shirt, presenting his back to me. Well-defined shoulders merged with the perfect muscles of his back and down into a tight waist. I was sad when I had finished rubbing in the lotion; I could have touched his bare skin for days.
He stretched the shirt over his head as I slathered a little more sunscreen across my face and exposed skin. As he escaped the collar of the shirt, he pointed to the pictures on the wall. “You look like your mom.”
“Thanks,” I said. I thought my mom was beautiful. “Dad says Jake and I got her smile, but we got lucky and got his brains.”
Noah laughed, the warm sound filling the small room. His blue eyes took me in, checking me out in my swimsuit. For once in my life, I didn't feel self-conscious; I felt sexy. I liked the way his eyes felt on me, and judging from the reaction in his swim shorts, he liked it too. I was all warm and soupy inside because of it.
“Let's go get the gear,” he said, taking my hand in his. I had a feeling that a little longer, we would be even later getting to the water.
I guided him back through the house, stopping in the prep kitchen to pick up some fish for the shark pups. Noah eyed the small bucket of fish warily as I led him out to the pen.
“I need to feed the pups before we go out on the water,” I said, kicking off my sandals and stepping into the pool. “You want to try?”
“Pups? That's water. Pups are dogs.” He stood on the edge looking at the four little sharks swimming lazily around the pen.
I laughed and set the bucket down, stepping out of th
e pool to take his hand. He frowned, but he slid off his shoes. He followed me until he was knee-deep in the water before he stopped moving. I let go of his hand and kept going. “Just come stand here. I'll bring one to you. They can't hurt you. They're too little.”
“Yeah, you say that until Mama Jaws comes to rescue them,” he muttered under his breath.
I waded out to where one of the baby nurse sharks was resting in the sun. The little shark let me catch her easily, and I brought her over to show Noah.
I flipped the tiny gray shark over so he could see her tummy. “Look at the spots,” I told him. “Aren’t they cute?”
Noah raised his eyebrows at the idea of a shark being 'cute', but he looked at her anyway. A little smile came over his face as he saw the tiny, dark polka dots on the creamy underside of the little shark. “They are kind of cute.”
“Go ahead and touch them. She won't hurt you,” I coaxed. Noah looked at me with his blue eyes big as saucers before reaching out a tentative hand to stroke her skin. The shark held still, letting him caress her.
“She’s rough and soft at the same time,” he whispered, his smile widening. “What kind of shark is she?”
“She's a nurse shark. Even full grown, she isn't a threat to humans. She likes to eat crustaceans, mollusks, small fish, and stingrays.” I turned the shark back over, letting Noah stroke her back. One of the small lemon sharks came over to investigate, but Noah was too involved in the nurse shark to notice. “You want to hold her?”
Noah's smile faltered slightly, but he nodded, holding out his hands. His jaw was tight, but the smile and the excitement in his eyes was enough to tell me he was enjoying the adrenaline rush of holding an apex predator in his hands. I put the little shark on his outstretched fingers.
“How big will she get?” he asked, breathless.
“Up to fourteen feet and seven-hundred and thirty pounds.”
“Whoa.” Noah stared at the little two foot baby in his hands.
The little shark only stayed for a moment before swishing her powerful tail and swimming off into the deeper water. Noah barked a laugh and pointed at her. His eyes shone with excitement. I loved encounters like this: letting someone who was afraid of sharks experience them in a safe environment. It was like magic.
“You want to feed them?” I asked.
“By hand?” Noah asked, his eyes widened again slightly.
“Typically. Using your toes just doesn't work as well.”
Noah nodded and I went to get the bucket at the edge of the water. “Okay, now hold the fish by the tail and keep that end away from the shark. They do have sharp teeth, and you don't want them to catch you accidentally.”