Chapter 359
**Sara**
We dried off and collapsed onto our towels under the umbrella. The sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the beach was filled with more people. I watched a group of kids building an elaborate sandcastle nearby, their laughter carrying on the breeze.
"I need to document this," Tom said suddenly, reaching into the beach bag. He pulled out an expensive-looking camera that I hadn't noticed before.
"When did you pack that?"
"This morning while you were in the shower." He fiddled with some settings. "Stand up. I want to get some shots of you with the ocean."
"Are you serious?" I tugged self-consciously at my bikini. "I'm all wet and sandy."
"Exactly. You look perfect." The sincerity in his voice made it impossible to refuse.
I stood up, feeling awkward. "What should I do? I'm not a model."
"Just be you." He lifted the camera to his eye. "Walk toward the water."
Feeling slightly ridiculous, I did as he asked, walking backward toward the shoreline. The sand was hot under my feet, making me dance a little.
"That's it," Tom encouraged, following me with the camera. "Just natural movements."
I reached the wet sand where the waves lapped at the shore and turned to face the ocean, letting the water wash over my feet. The coolness was a relief after the hot sand.
"Look over your shoulder," Tom directed.
I glanced back at him, unable to keep from laughing at how serious he looked behind the camera. The shutter clicked rapidly.
"What's so funny?" he asked, lowering the camera slightly.
"You. You look like you're on a professional shoot."
"Maybe I missed my calling." He snapped a few more photos. "Okay, now go stand in the water up to your knees."
I waded in, feeling the pull of the receding waves around my legs. Tom followed, the camera still clicking.
"Put your arms out," he suggested.
I stretched my arms wide, tilting my face up to the sun and closing my eyes. The ocean breeze whipped my hair around, and I felt completely free. Click, click, click went the camera.
"Now splash me," Tom said.
I opened my eyes. "What?"
"Splash me. I want to capture your playful side."
"You're going to get your fancy camera wet!"
"It's waterproof. Come on, give me your best shot."
I bent down and sent a huge spray of water his way. He managed to snap several photos while simultaneously trying to dodge the splash, which caused him to stumble backward and nearly fall. I doubled over laughing.
"Oh, you think that's funny?" He lowered the camera, a dangerous glint in his eye.
"Extremely," I managed between giggles.
He secured the camera strap around his neck and lunged for me. I shrieked and tried to run, but the water slowed me down. His arms wrapped around my waist from behind, lifting me off my feet.
"Tom! Put me down!" I squealed as he spun me around.
"Apologize for laughing at me first."
"Never!"
He waded deeper into the water, still carrying me. "Last chance."
"You wouldn't dare," I challenged.
With a dramatic roar, he fell backward, taking both of us under the water. I came up sputtering and laughing, pushing my wet hair out of my face.
"You're insane!" I splashed him again.
"You love it," he countered, checking that his camera was still safely above water.
"Give me that," I said, reaching for the camera. "My turn to play photographer."
He hesitated. "This is an expensive piece of equipment..."
"Are you saying I can't handle it?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Fine," he relented, carefully placing the camera strap around my neck. "Just keep it above water."
I adjusted the strap and held the camera up. "Now, Mr. Blackwood, show me your best poses."
Tom looked suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't really pose..."
"Oh, come on. You made me do it!" I gestured toward the shore. "Go stand over there and look brooding and professorial."
He trudged out of the water, looking adorably self-conscious. I followed, figuring out the camera settings as I went.
"Just relax," I called, mimicking his earlier instructions. "Be natural!"
Tom stood stiffly at first, hands in the pockets of his swim shorts. I snapped a few photos, then said, "Loosen up! Pretend you're lecturing about... I don't know, depreciation methods."
That made him laugh, his face transforming into something so genuine and beautiful that I quickly captured it. "Perfect," I said softly.
Encouraged, he began to relax, walking along the shoreline while I followed with the camera. I caught him mid-stride, water splashing around his feet, his profile sharp against the blue horizon.
"Look at the ocean," I directed, "like you're contemplating the meaning of life."
He did, and the resulting image on the camera's display took my breath away – Tom silhouetted against the vast Pacific, his posture somehow both powerful and vulnerable.
"Now, run into the water!" I called out.
He gave me an incredulous look but complied, jogging into the waves and diving under an incoming swell. I captured the moment he emerged, water cascading off his shoulders, his face bright with exhilaration.
"These are actually pretty good," I said, reviewing the shots as he came back to me.
"Let me see." He peered over my shoulder, dripping water onto me. "Wow, you've got an eye for this."
"I'm hungry," I announced, returning the camera to him. "All this photography has worked up my appetite."
Tom checked his watch. "It's past noon. Want to grab lunch?"
"God, yes. Feed me before I get hangry."
We packed up our beach gear and headed toward a row of cafés lining the beachfront. Tom chose one with an open-air patio that offered a perfect view of the surf break.
"This place has the best fish and chips in Bondi," he said as we settled at a table under a large umbrella.
A server appeared almost immediately with menus and water. I scanned the offerings, my stomach growling audibly.
"I'll have the grilled barramundi," Tom told the server when she returned. "And a cold beer."
"The seafood platter for me," I said. "And I'll have a beer too."
The server nodded and disappeared with our orders. I leaned back in my chair, soaking in the sunshine and the view. The beach stretched out before us, a canvas of golden sand dotted with colorful umbrellas and tanned bodies.
"You know," Tom said, reaching across the table to take my hand, "I've been to Bondi dozens of times, but it's never been this perfect."
"Oh? And what makes today different?" I asked, even as I felt my cheeks warm at his touch.
"The company, obviously." He stroked his thumb over my knuckles. "Everything's better with you."
"Smooth talker," I teased, but secretly, I was melting inside. "Save some of that charm for later."
Our beers arrived, cold and refreshing. I took a long sip, savoring the crisp taste and the way the condensation cooled my fingers.
"To unexpected adventures," Tom said, raising his glass.
I clinked mine against his. "And to dolphins that put on free shows."
Our food arrived shortly after—a massive seafood platter for me that looked like it could feed a small army and Tom's perfectly grilled fish. I dove in immediately, moaning slightly at the first bite of buttery lobster.
"Good?" Tom asked, amused.
"Divine," I mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Want some?"
"I'll stick with my fish for now, but I might raid your plate if you can't finish all that."
"Bold of you to assume I won't eat every last bite."
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