Tulane killed the engine. "That," he said, pointing to the water, "is the Edisto River. And this is an old–fashioned swimming hole."

"Oh." Her stomach dropped to her knees.

"You up for a swim?" he asked.

"You're talking about skinny–dipping, aren't you?"

"Yes'm, I surely am. I dare you to take off your clothes and get wet."

"You dare me?" She was in so much trouble. She wanted to take off her clothes.

"C'mon," he said, opening the truck door. "Let's take a walk up to the pier."

Sarah followed Tulane up a narrow concrete pathway to a dock that jutted into the river. Moonlight glinted off its black surface like silver fish dancing in the darkness. A forest of trees stood at the water's edge like dark sentries, their branches trailing Spanish moss.

Something wicked awakened inside her, beating to the rhythm of her heart. Please, God, don't let him change his mind, she prayed.

And then she wondered if God listened to naughty requests from good girls.