Sunshine Beach Read Online Free Page A

moment, she broke right and headed toward the bay.
    â€œDustin go to beach!”
    â€œWe will, sweetie.,” she promised, leaning over as she pushed the stroller onto the sidewalk that ran along Boca Ciega Bay.
Just as soon as I lose the photographer.
    Ignoring Nigel’s yelp of surprise, she began a slow jog, which took them past First and Second avenues. Careful to appear unhurried, she subtly increased her pace with each block. She had no doubt she could outrun him; the man was wearing flip-flops after all, while she had on her running shoes and was pushing what was for all intents and purposes an all-terrain vehicle. Plus she’d seen him with a cigarettedangling from his lips plenty of times. Nothing about the man’s physique led her to believe he’d ever set foot in a gym. But she didn’t want to simply outrun him; she wanted to lose him altogether.
    At Fifth Avenue she doubled her speed, though she was careful not to hunch forward or look too intent. Kyra kept her eyes straight ahead as the concrete balustrade whipped by, and ignored Nigel Bracken’s shout when he apparently noticed the gap between them growing. The sound of his flip-flops flapping against the sidewalk brought a smile to her lips.
    â€œHey!” Nigel’s shout carried on the breeze, but she pretended not to hear him, accelerating once again as she widened the gap between them.
    She continued north past the small park that sat between Ninth and Tenth. At Eleventh she snuck a peek over her shoulder and saw Nigel bent over with hands braced on his thighs, wearing only one flip-flop and breathing heavily. His cameras dangled down around his ankles.
    Gotcha!
She smiled with pleasure as she cut across the street and out of sight. At the end of the short block, she crossed Gulf Way, jogged north a few blocks, then took a crossover onto the beach.
    â€œHa!” Feeling ridiculously victorious—were there medals for eluding paparazzi?—she pushed the stroller down to the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge.
    â€œBeetch!” Dustin yelled jubilantly as she turned the stroller north and headed toward the castle-like Don CeSar Hotel.
    â€œBeach!” she shouted back as she settled into a comfortable walk that would allow them both to enjoy the sights and sounds.
    Brightly colored kites swooped and fluttered in the sky. A parasailer hung suspended high above the water, towed by the speedboat to which it was tethered. Jetskiers andwindsurfers skimmed across the slightly choppy surface while landlubbers set their own pace, some running or walking with intent while others meandered from shell to shell. Small children ran in and out of the shallow water with shrieks of delight.
    With each step the huge pink hotel grew larger. When they reached it with no sign of Nigel, she stopped and extracted Dustin from the stroller. They settled happily at the water’s edge where they built their own version of the Don with thick hard-packed walls decorated with coquina shells, mud-dribbled turrets, and a moat that filled with water with each new wave that came ashore.
    A text dinged in and she lifted her phone, hunching over it so that she could read the screen.
lifdink let. Ticks lightner.
Kyra snorted at her mother’s attempted communication, which as always left a lot to be desired. Madeline Singer’s thumbs and her iPhone were not exactly simpatico. She debated whether to call or to query the message, but decided if there was anything urgent her mother would have called.
    â€œCatch ball!” Finished with the castle, Dustin retrieved his beach ball and hurled it without aiming. It landed in the surf and he was after it before Kyra could stop him.
    â€œHold on, you!” She sprinted after him hooking an arm around his waist and lifting him onto her hip before wading in after the ball. “If we’re going to play catch we have to get farther from the water. How about up there?” She