Welcome to the Boomer Lit Friday Blog Hop! Once again, authors are showcasing examples of this exciting new genre at http://boomerlitfriday.blogspot.com/ You should check them out. There’s some good stuff there.
Here’s my contribution…a flashback scene from my novel, “The Healing.” Enjoy!
On her way past the lifeguard’s chair, Karen glanced up and saw Mike Donnelly for the first time. He was silhouetted against the bright midday sun, his hair hanging in damp ringlets after a dip in the bay. If his face wasn’t so boyishly Irish and his eyes weren’t so intensely blue, he would’ve resembled some Roman god of the sea perched on his pedestal. Expecting that his gaze would be riveted on Anya’s tall, hourglass figure and melon-sized breasts bumping along in her shocking green bikini, Karen was embarrassed to find him looking down at her. Her. Why was he eyeing the boiled chicken wings when a gourmet feast was right in front of him?
“Hi,” he said, moving nothing but his straight, dark eyebrows.
Karen felt an immediate rush of heat to her cheeks. “Hi,” she echoed, ducking her head. Her heart knocked hard and fast against her breastbone. Idiot, she berated herself.
“How about right here?” Anya was saying to the group with her hand extended, indicating a clear patch of sand like a game show model offering Curtain Number Three. They were diagonally in front of the lifeguard’s chair. “Excuse me?” she called up to him brazenly.
Karen braved another glance upward because now her flirtatious cousin had diverted the lifeguard’s gaze.
“Yup?” he replied, moving only his head. His arms were still draped across the back of the chair and his long, well-muscled legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He looked like he was lounging on a comfortable sofa watching a movie. Except he was wearing nothing but a red swimsuit that was about as wide as a headband.
“We won’t be in your way if we park ourselves here, will we?” Anya asked, peering up at him with her weight shifted onto one hip and a hand shading her eyes.
The lifeguard looked amused. A slow, attractive grin creased his face. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I can forge a path to the water if the deadly riptide tries to claim a life.”
“And the sharks,” Anya said. “Don’t forget the sharks.”
Everyone laughed. There were no man-eating sharks or dangerous currents in the waters off Founders’ Landing. The only time the lifeguard truly earned his pay was when a child capsized on an inner tube or got stung by a jellyfish. The rest of the time he was free to watch bikinis and daydream about the girl he wanted most on the beach.
Karen’s eyes remained riveted on the lifeguard’s face as he broke into that full smile. When his laughing blue eyes fell on her again, he caught her gawking at him, slack-mouthed and air-headed. Snapping her jaw shut, she unfurled her towel and hastily set it down on the sand. While her friends wriggled out of their shorts, oiled their young bodies, and stretched out in various poses to sunbathe, providing wholesome visual entertainment for their new prospect, Karen sat on her towel and hugged her knees, careful not to move or risk another glance for a long time. She stared out at the bay, conscious of every sound and movement behind her.