He was cocking this whole situation up in a big fat way because he had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was that he had to stop her before she ran off and got herself lost or worse. She had no money and no identification. Where the hell did she think she was gonna go? The heat of the early morning sun fired over him the instant he stepped foot on the sand, and panic filled him when he found the beach empty. He ran past the privacy fences that lined the sides of the property, and as he approached the water’s edge, a wave of relief flooded him when he spotted her. She was about thirty feet down the beach to the left, sitting in the sand with her face buried against her knees. His sense of relief was swiftly replaced with concern when he realized she was crying. Shit. He’d made her cry. Nice move, asshole. He ran one hand through his hair and approached her cautiously, trying to figure out what the fuck he was supposed to say or do.
