Sea turtles may be endangered but after an encounter with marine biologist, Jack Brandon, nothing will stop Sara Hart from naming her deli Turtle Soup.

When Jack takes a job at the nearby Georgia Aquarium, Sara finds the environmental poster boy at her door, hungry and carrying a chip on his shoulder.

Neither thinks the other has what it takes, until a scuba class reveals what lies beneath the surface. It will take food, friends, and a little help from Mother Nature, to help them see that making a difference isn’t all numbers and glory.

It must begin with love.

Jack had no intention of attending the next dive class. After putting Conner on a plane, he dialed Guffin's number with an excuse for why he wouldn't be able to make it. Something held him back. He knew what it was. He liked her.

The idea of admitting he had some kind of feeling for Sara Hart made his teeth grind. Maybe it was because she wasn't impressed with him, or maybe it was because she saw him for who he really was. Guffin didn't answer, and he didn't leave a voicemail.

He thought about the man he'd seen her helping behind Turtle Soup. He'd been dressed in rags. How could she have known just by looking that he wouldn't do her any harm?

Jack would never give a hand-out to someone in a dark alley. A pin prick of shame needled his conscious. Maybe that was what intrigued him. She saw the world through different glasses. Not rose-colored, though. She had a good head on her shoulders, but it didn't keep her from being kind.

Guffin left a message with Trudy for Jack to meet up with him before the Monday evening class. He grudgingly attended, taking his gear with him. If Guffin needed an extra man it was the least he could do. He'd already told Conner he'd fill in.

As the dive master covered the next chapter from the instruction book in the classroom, Jack got the tanks and weight belts ready. The students found the equipment already set up for them poolside as they changed into their wetsuits. Zipped snug into her body-hugging wetsuit, Sara fiddled with tank as if he'd booby trapped it. He tried to avoid eye contact. He had the unsettling idea that he should apologize.

Some of the students made their first descents to the bottom, learning to use their air release valves. The valves controlled buoyancy within the vests called compensators, or BC's, and were the most vital skill next to breathing. Jack noticed Sara stayed on the shelf. She seemed troubled.

Guffin had observed this, too. When class was over, Jack was relieved to see him call her over to the deck. They had a long discussion that ended with him putting her back into the water but she didn't leave the shelf.

Jack rotated and refilled some of the tanks. Guffin gave him a slap on the back. "Lock-up the classroom, will you? I've got to call the front office."

"Sure." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sara peeling off her wet suit. She was under the shower head in the rinse area, one hand against the green tile to keep her balance.

He couldn't help watching the little wiggle in her hips. The harder she pulled, the longer the rubber stretched as if it were a piece of black gum. He would have laughed out loud if jets of water weren't smoothing her hair down in a wheat curtain against her back.

Her legs were athletic and trim. She needed a tan, his defenses observed. Before he could stop himself he stepped into the shower to help her pull the wetsuit the rest of the way off. He caught her off balance and had to grab her wrist so she didn't fall. Her hand landed squarely on his bare chest, his eyes in the valley between the cups of her dark bikini.

One leg of the wetsuit had flopped to the tiles, while the other was still glued to her calf. She looked down foolishly for a moment as if unsure what to do but they're eyes met and she seemed to trade her embarrassment for unease.

The words I'm sorry passed through his mind, but he kissed her instead. Without thinking, he closed his eyes and put his mouth on hers, timidly, in case she bit him. She didn't bite, but she didn't lean into him either. Her lips had a light layer of salt residue that had not rinsed off and he kissed her harder enjoying the scent of her breath that rose up with the steam.

With a jolt the water temperature switched to ice cold and he stumbled back. Sara had not been lost as lost in the moment as he'd thought. "I'm sorry," she said as she screwed the faucet handle off.

She wiped the water off her face and ran her hands over her hair. He moved to put his arms around her again but she stepped back out of reach. "Don't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Her face was so red it looked like her cheeks could bleed. Humiliation singed Jack's pride. "You didn't mean that?"

"No." She tripped over her wetsuit trying to escape.

He reached for a towel and wordlessly she accepted. Struggling, she pulled the other leg of her wetsuit off at last. He stood on the pool deck waiting for something more.

Of course she didn't mean it. She didn't like him one iota. She would head straight home and tell her little niece everything. There'd be a cookie on the menu tomorrow called Crummy Kiss.

He drew an angry breath but before he could insult her she stuck her hand out like a traffic cop. "Don't say it."

"Say what?" A cold wave of disgust washed over him. Why had he let himself think she was different? "What makes you think I meant it either?" He thought he saw her eyes water but she quickly wiped her face. He spun on his heel and stalked off before she looked up again.