Dear John Read Online Free PDF Page B

Her accent was different from that of eastern North Carolina, more of a twang, as if she’d grown up in the mountains near Boone or near the South Carolina border in the west.
    “No big deal,” I mumbled, but I didn’t move.
    “Hey, maybe he wants a reward,” pink shirt broke in, his voice loud.
    She glanced at him, then back at me. “Do you want a reward?”
    “No.” I waved a hand. “Just glad to help.”
    “I always knew chivalry wasn’t dead,” she proclaimed. I tried to detect a note of teasing, but I heard nothing in her tone to indicate that she was poking fun at me.
    Orange shirt gave me the once-over, noting my crew cut. “Are you in the marines?” he asked. He tightened his arms around the blonde again.
    I shook my head. “I’m not one of the few or the proud. I wanted to be all that I could be, so I joined the army.”
    The brunette laughed. Unlike my dad, she’d actually seen the commercials.
    “I’m Savannah,” she said. “Savannah Lynn Curtis. And these are Brad, Randy, and Susan.” She held out her hand.
    “I’m John Tyree,” I said, taking it. Her hand was warm, velvety soft in places but callused in others. I was suddenly conscious of how long it had been since I’d touched a woman.
    “Well, I feel like I should do something for you.”
    “You don’t need to do anything.”
    “Have you eaten?” she asked, ignoring my comment. “We’re getting ready to have a cookout, and there’s plenty to go around. Would you like to join us?”
    The guys traded glances. Pink-shirted Randy looked downright glum, and I’ll admit that made me feel better.
Hey, maybe he wants a reward
. What a putz.
    “Yeah, come on,” Brad finally added, sounding less than thrilled. “It’ll be fun. We’re renting the place next to the pier.” He pointed to one of the houses on the beach, where half a dozen people lounged on the deck out back.
    Even though I had no desire to spend time with more frat brothers, Savannah smiled at me with such warmth that the words were out before I could stop them.
    “Sounds good. Let me go grab my board from the pier and I’ll be there in a bit.”
    “We’ll meet you there,” Randy piped up. He took a step toward Savannah, but she ignored him.
    “I’ll walk with you,” Savannah said, breaking away from the group. “It’s the least I can do.” She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “See you all in a few, okay?”
    We started toward the dune, where the stairs would lead us up to the pier. Her friends lingered for a minute, but when she fell in step beside me, they slowly turned and began making their way down the beach. From the corner of my eye, I saw the blonde turn her head and glance our way from beneath Brad’s arm. Randy did too, sulking. I wasn’t sure that Savannah even noticed until we’d walked a few steps.
    “Susan probably thinks I’m crazy for doing this,” she said.
    “Doing what?”
    “Walking with you. She thinks Randy’s perfect for me, and she’s been trying to get us together since we got here this afternoon. He’s been following me around all day.”
    I nodded, unsure how to respond. In the distance, the moon, full and glowing, had begun its slow rise from the sea, and I saw Savannah staring at it. When the waves crashed and spilled, they flared silver, as if caught in a camera’s flash. We reached the pier. The railing was gritty with sand and salt, and the wood was weathered and beginning to splinter. The steps creaked as we ascended.
    “Where are you stationed?” she asked.
    “In Germany. I’m home on leave for a couple of weeks to visit my dad. And you’re from the mountains, I take it?”
    She glanced at me in surprise. “Lenoir.” She studied me. “Let me guess, my accent, right? You think I sound like I’m from the sticks, don’t you.”
    “Not at all.”
    “Well, I am. From the sticks, I mean. I grew up on a ranch and everything. And yes, I know I have an accent, but I’ve been told that some people find it