“And he’s not talking?” I listen as Holland, one of the in-house investigators, recounts his talk with one of the board members of Tris’s company.
“Not a peep.”
“Make him talk or move onto someone else.” I stop to think of all the Carter Enterprise’s board members. “What about Jamie Cromwell? He’s a loose cannon at the best of times.”
“I’ll make some calls.”
“Good. Keep me informed, Holland. We need this locked down.”
I hang up and blow out a breath as I look at the time. I still have twenty minutes until I need to be in court, so I pull up Facebook and scroll through my newsfeed.
I write a congratulations to an old friend that’s just had a baby girl before scrolling on, getting bored. I click on the search bar and type in Amelia’s name, scrolling down the list of results but coming up empty. Why doesn’t she have Facebook? I’ve never thought to look before now.
A notification pops up and I click on it, smiling. Harmony has finally accepted my friend request from a while back. I scroll through her profile, of course it’s full of photos of her art and shares from her studio’s page. Everything is on social media these days. Everything and everyone except Amelia and Tris that is.
A throat clearing has me looking up into Stacey’s eyes—one of the junior associates at the firm who is working the case with me.
“You ready for this?”
I pocket my cell and stand up. “I was born ready.”
She chuckles, gazing down the hallway. “Savage here yet?”
I shake my head. Derek Savage is one of the most well-respected insurance brokers on the West Coast. He also happens to be a complete pain in my ass and sure knows how to keep us on our toes with this sexual assault case. But hopefully we’ll receive a verdict today and this will be all over and done with.
Stacey and I turn toward the raucous belly laugh of none other than Derek himself as he’s followed by two leggy blondes coming toward us.
I look down at my watch and he scoffs. “I’m on time, Cole, calm down.”
“Wasn’t gonna say anything, Savage.” I motion to the courtroom. “Let’s get in there.”
I open the door and let Stacey and Derek walk in ahead of me, steeling my features before walking through after them.
“All rise.” I stand as Judge Ferguson walks into the courtroom and he motions for everyone to sit once he’s settled in his chair.
“We’re here for one last argument from yourself, Mr. Cole. Then the jury will deliver a verdict. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
He waves his hand. “Then please proceed.”
Clearing my throat, I stand up and address the jury. “We could go back and forth all day over whether my client is guilty or not, but the truth of the matter is my client and the alleged victim were having sexual relations way before the video in question surfaced.” I make eye contact with each person sitting there before saying, “I’d like to call Mr. Savage to the stand.”
Derek stands and gets sworn in before sitting in the witness stand as cool as a cucumber. “Mr. Savage, can you please tell me for how long your ‘fling’ with Miss Williams took place before the day in which your moral compass is being questioned.”
While he says his answer, I walk over and pick up the top piece of paper from the open file in front of where I was sitting, all the while not listening to him because we’ve been over what he should and shouldn’t say many times already. “And there was no force or coercion on your part?”
“Absolutely none,” he states.
“So these accusations are completely false, in your opinion?” He nods and I refrain from rolling my eyes, I’ve talked to him about this, too. “I’m sorry, Mr. Savage, for the record, could you please voice your answer.”
“Yes, every sexual act myself and Miss Williams partook in was consensual.”
I turn toward the jury, holding up the paper so I can see but not enough to hide my face from them. “I’ll be waiting for you in the copy room, Savage. I’m not wearing any panties.”
“Objection!” Jeremy Lions—the prosecution—shouts.
“On what grounds?” Judge Ferguson counters, sounding bored.
“R—relevance,” Jeremy stammers out.
“Overruled, please continue, Mr. Cole. I’d like to hear more.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Taking a step forward, I continue. “Mr. Savage, do you recognize this?”
He shrugs as he leans forward, trying to get a better look at what I’m holding up. “I get a lot of messages that sound like that, but yes, I remember that one clearly.”
I want to knock the cocky smirk off his face but instead, I say, “I’m not surprised you do because it was sent to you by none other than Miss Williams herself.” I pause, turning toward the jury again. “Exactly twenty-two minutes before the video in question was taken. I don’t know about you, but to me that doesn’t sound like someone who wasn’t up for partaking in whatever acts conspired that day.” There’s murmurs throughout the gallery and I turn toward Derek on the stand. “But that doesn’t explain you groping Miss Williams and her slapping you in the video, Mr. Savage.”
“Objection!” Jeremy yells again.
“Grounds?” Judge Ferguson asks again.
“Badgering the witness.”
I barely hold in my chuckle as Judge Ferguson says, “It’s his witness, Lions. Sit down.”
I turn toward Derek and nod subtly at him to which he sits up straighter. “I walked into the copy room not long after receiving an email from her on my personal account.” He turns his gaze toward the jury. “We liked to keep things strictly out of the workplace.” He turns back to me. “Until what I guess is the email you have there, but when I got to the copy room she was acting strange.”
“Strange? Can you expand?”
He nods. “She kept turning me around every time I tried to walk behind her, telling me I wasn’t doing it right.” He sighs. “I enjoyed spending time with her but she was starting to get clingy and I don’t do clingy, so I stopped our encounter and told her after that time, we were over.”
“What happened then?”
All smug, he sits back in his chair. “I tried to continue so we could both get off but the bitch slapped me and pulled her shirt over herself before walking out into the office crying.”
“And that’s when she started telling people you forced yourself on her?”
“Yeah, and then the police turned up and I was arrested.”
I nod. “No further questions.”
I try to gauge the jury’s reactions and smile, they look like they’re ready to pounce on all the information.
“Short recess while the jury deliberates,” I hear as I turn to gather the file of papers.
Derek sidles up beside me and claps me on the shoulder. “Remind me to never go up against you, Cole.”
I grin at him. “I’m not the best for no reason, Savage.”
He walks out of the courtroom as the prosecution have their heads close together. They know they’ve lost this case, there’s no way they can win it with the evidence I just provided.
Taking one last look at Jeremy, I raise a brow before spinning around and following Stacey out of the room.
Deliberations can take anywhere from thirty minutes to two days—I’m hoping this is the former and not the latter. Pulling my cell out, I check my messages as I make my way to a bench in the hallway. There’s nothing back from Holland yet so I click open the Facebook app, but I’m only sitting for ten minutes before someone announces the jury have reached a verdict and we can go back in.
Being that quick can only mean one of two things: they’re either sure he’s guilty or sure he’s innocent. If I was a betting man then I’d have to go with innocent.
Sitting back behind the table on the left side of the courtroom, we watch as the jury are called back in, followed by Judge Ferguson.
He signals for the head juror to stand, and as he does, he opens up a piece of paper folded in half before he says, “Based on everything we have been presented with, we find the defendant, Derek Savage, not guilty.”
Derek blows out a breath and stands, the blondes he walked in with earlier squealing with delight behind us in the gallery.
He shakes my hand and Stacey’s. “Thanks, I know I’m a sleaze.” His gaze skirts to the women. “I don’t deny it. But I didn’t do this.” He smirks. “I’m going to go and celebrate now.”
He walks off with the two blondes on his arms and Stacey scoffs. “Sleaze is a major understatement.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“Cole, you never fail to amaze me,” Jeremy says, sidling up next to us. “I honestly thought I had this one in the bag.”
I look him in the eyes as I shrug. “Maybe next time.”
Although both he and I know my firm and I are formidable so the chances of that happening are slim to none.
Stacey and I gather our stuff as we walk out, shaking hands with people in the gallery over our win. There’s nothing like ending the week on a complete and utter high.
The bus ride to the beach takes nearly an hour because it pauses at every little stop. It would have only taken maybe twenty minutes if I would have taken the car Tris gave me. It doesn’t matter how many times Tris tells me to take it—like this morning before I left—I never use it unless the kids are with me.
Taking a deep breath, I soak in the smell of the ocean air. It’s remarkable how it can feel so different even though I’m not far from the house. It’s like I’ve stepped into another state. The sound of the waves thrashing soothes me and has my shoulders slouching and a lazy grin forming on my lips.
I walk past the ice cream shop and a shack renting wetsuits before taking a left and walking into the main part of the town.
A few minutes later I’m standing in front of my own slice of heaven. The sign above the door is dark blue with white writing displaying the words “Beats & Bass.”
The glass door to the shop is littered with posters: local band gigs, wanted ads, and even one about a lost cat. A bell dings as I step inside, my eyes taking in all of the vinyl records displayed on the walls and in carts throughout the store.
Like I said: heaven.
I head toward the jazz section at the back, walking past Vic who owns the shop. “Morning.”
His hand floats to the white beard that touches his sternum as he strokes it. “New ones are on the left, Amelia,” he says, knowing exactly what I’ve come for.
“Thanks.”
I head to where he said, flicking through them but being careful to not damage any. Some of the cases holding the records are well worn and well listened to, whereas others are in near pristine condition. It’s not those ones I want though: I want the ones that have stood the test of time, been listened to over and over again. Been danced to and been the background noise to budding romances, weddings, or even parties from decades ago.
The pads of my fingers brush against a red cardboard casing and my heart skips a beat. This was the first record I ever owned, it’s probably still sitting on my shelf in my childhood bedroom. I slowly pull it out, my heartbeat drumming in my ears as I turn around, heading over to the record player allowing you to listen before you buy.
The first backing vocals of the song come through the headphones and I stare at Ray Charles’s smiling face while I trace over the letters of the words on the righthand side: “I can’t stop loving you.”
His voice flows through my ears, taking me back to the first time I listened to this exact record when I was only eight years old. Closing my eyes, I soak in the tone of his voice and the instruments in the background; relishing every single syllable he utters.
I let the record play out, all the while moving my hips gently side to side, feeling like I’m being transported back to the 1960s.
When the last lyrics finish and the instruments stop playing, I lift the record up and slide it back into the case before placing the headphones on the hook at the side. I can’t not buy this one.
Paying up, I walk out of the shop, my hand smoothing over my bag where it sits, a beaming smile on my face matching the bright sun shining down on me.
I practically skip past all the shops and to the beach, finding the perfect spot—not too close to the water but close enough to not hear all of the commotion from the small path that runs along the top.
Pulling my towel out, I lay it on the sand before discarding my denim skirt and tank top, leaving me in my white bikini bottoms and halter top. Adjusting the small buckles sitting on my hips, I sit down and do some people-watching.
Kids are making sandcastles near the water, parents watching them closely. A group of guys are playing volleyball on a makeshift court not far from me; the sounds of their laughter mixing in with the waves as they roll in. I can’t remember the last time I people-watched knowing I didn’t have to look after Clay or Izzie, or have a time limit on when I needed to be back. It’s not like I don’t have the opportunity, I just don’t like to be too far away in case I’m needed. Which is crazy because Tris is more than capable, but it’s become more of a habit, knowing I’m only a few feet away from the main house.
Leaning back on my elbows, I dip my head back and close my eyes. The burning sensation on my shoulders reminds me I need to apply sunblock so I sit up, pulling it out of my bag and squirting some into the palm of my hand. I look up briefly before applying it and then whip my head back up, doing a double take.
No. He can’t be here.
A surfboard followed by a man wearing a wetsuit catches my attention. He shakes out his brown wet hair which causes drops of water to surround him, his lips lifting up into a carefree grin as he talks to someone near the edge of the water.
Grabbing my bag frantically, I look for something to hide my face. Why the hell didn’t I pack a big floppy hat?
“Quick, quick,” I murmur, needing something—anything.
Aha! My tank top! I grab it, lying down on my towel and throwing it over my face. I don’t know how long I stay there, counting my breaths and trying to appear as normal as possible, but once I hit 500 I slowly lift my arm and pull my tank top off my face. Staying deathly still, I skirt my gaze left and right, not seeing anything.
My breath leaves me in a rush. Phew. Seeing Nate while wearing so little clothes and him in a wetsuit that sticks to every contour of muscle has my mind flitting back to a month ago when he took me to the sports bar and to his happy trail.
Dammit, don’t go there.
A shadow descends over me, blocking the sun and I know then that I didn’t have a lucky escape. I tilt my head back, looking up into his green eyes and taking note of the smirk stretching along his face.
“Well… hello there, pretty lady. Fancy seeing you here.”
I groan, slamming my eyes shut. “I didn’t know this was your beach.”
He snorts and I feel him throw himself down in the sand beside me. “Not my beach.” I crack one eye open, staring at him with a raised brow. “It’s good to see you out and about for once.”
My gaze flits down to his chest, his pecs glistening with water from the sea before trailing down his abs and to the start of the wetsuit where he’s pulled it down to his hips.
“Anyway, what are you doing here?”
I stare at him for a beat, watching the way he flicks his gaze from mine briefly almost as if he’s nervous. But this is Nate—the guy who’s the life of a party, always ready with a joke and a playful grin. Surely he can’t be nervous?
“I went to the record store and now I’m going to sunbathe the day away.” I pick up my tank top that’s lying next to me before folding it up, trying to occupy my hands. “Tris went to watching week and said I didn’t need to be there at all today.”
“Watching week?” he asks, his eyes roaming down my legs.
I clear my throat. “Well, watching week was last week but Harmony…” I trail off, wondering whether I should be saying this to Nate. But I’ve started now and I can’t leave it hanging there. “She said he could come and watch the kids during the art class today as he missed last week’s.”
“So, he let the kids go back there again?” His face screws up and he looks away. “I didn’t know, we haven’t spoken since the cookout. But that’s good.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “The class is good for them; especially Clay.” We’re both silent for a couple of minutes before I ask, “So you’re here surfing?” Could I be anymore awkward?
He grins and motions toward his surfboard dug into the sand behind us. “Sure am. I come here a lot.”
I swing my head around, really looking at the giant board and noting the couple of stickers on the back. “What’s it like?” I ask, bringing my gaze back to his. “Surfing?”
“What?” His eyes widen. “You mean to tell me you’ve been living this close to the beach for almost six years and you’ve never been surfing before?”
His shocked eyes don’t move from mine. “No.” I try to play it off as nothing, but it’s furthest from the truth. Growing up in a state smack bang in the middle of America meant I never lived by the sea so this was the first place I came to after… everything. “It was always part of the plan…” I trail off.
Learning how to surf was the first thing on top of my list. A list that not one item has been crossed off. Maybe I should start and have more days like this where I cross those things off?
“What plan—”
I stand up, my arms flying out and touching his board as I cut him off, “Teach me.”
He follows me, brushing the sand off his hands. “Teach you? To surf?”
I cock my hip to the side, tilting my head. “Well yeah, what else would I be asking you to teach me?” His lips lift up into a slow and steady smirk. “No.” I shake my head in exasperation and point at him. “I can hear your thoughts from here.”
His eyes flash. “Yeah, well there’s a lot of things I could teach you.” He steps closer, the heat of his body seeping into my skin. “But, surfing? You really want to learn?”
“Hmmm.” I let my hand drop off his board, bringing it up to my lips and tapping the pad of my finger on them. “Are you saying you’re not capable of teaching me? Should I head on over to the rental hut and ask them if they have a guy that can—”
“Hey, hey, hey, I never said I couldn’t. It’s just…” He looks me up and down. “The sea is pretty cold, we’ll need to go get you a wetsuit. And my board isn’t for beginners, we’ll get you your own.”
I grin big and wide as he pulls his board out of the sand and I collect my things, pushing them all into my tote bag. He holds the board under his left arm while holding his other hand out, grasping mine as he pulls me along with him and toward one of the shops sitting along the path at the top of the beach.
The callouses on his palms rub against mine, causing a slight shiver to roll through me. How can he act like this one touch isn’t affecting him at all? Maybe it isn’t. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same heat flowing through my body when our skin touches. Maybe he doesn’t feel the spark seeming to ignite into a roaring fire whenever our bodies are only inches apart.
He lets go of my hand to stand his board outside the shop, placing it in the rack along with the other boards. The second his skin leaves mine, I feel the absence. But as soon as it’s gone it’s replaced and he drags me inside.
“You’ll need a wetsuit, a shorty like mine should do.” He stops and seems to be thinking for a second. “Your board needs to be a soft top foam board, we’ll size them up but you need to get one way bigger than you. Size matters.” He winks before he starts looking through rails of wetsuits, taking one off and putting it in front of me. “Here, this should fit. Wanna go try it on and I’ll grab some other things?”
I stare after him as he spins around, heading to another rack near the register, picking things up and placing them on the counter. I haven’t got a clue about any of the stuff he just said, and I have no idea what that is he just placed on the counter. A cuff?
I frown as I watch him piling things up before he catches my gaze and motions with his hands behind me. Spinning around, I see the changing room sign and head inside. Hooking my tote bag on the hook on the wall after closing the door, I unzip the suit and sit down on the small bench, taking my sandals off before pushing my feet into the leg holes and wrestling it up my body. After some serious huffing and puffing, I blow out a breath causing my hair to waft around my face. I feel like I just did a workout and I’m not even in the water yet.
Letting my arms flow to my sides, I take a look in the mirror. The suit hugs my thighs but is loose around the middle and when I tilt my head, I see I still need to do the zip up. There’s something attached to it which allows me to grab hold of it. I pull it all the way up, effectively turning me into walking spanks and sucking everything in.
I twist and turn, not liking how it clings to me. This is a bad idea, I shouldn’t do this.
As I’m about to pull the zipper down and take it off, I catch my eyes in the mirror. The chocolate brown seems brighter—warmer—than it has in weeks. Every time I’m around Nate he seems to take everything away, leaving only what is going on around us. He makes me feel like I can truly escape anything.
Pushing my shoulders back, I tell myself I can do this, even if it means him seeing every curve and dip of my body. Screw it.
Grabbing my bag off the hook and shoving my sandals in there, I push through the door and back into the main shop.
Nate is standing next to four different boards leaning against one wall, patiently waiting for me. His eyes slowly trail over my body before stopping briefly on my waist and then finally coming up to my eyes. They burn with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before.
“I—” His voice is croaky so he clears it before saying, “I see it fits perfectly.”
I swallow. “It does.” He watches me, his chest heaving on a breath. I shift under his attention before taking the several steps that separate us, his eyes stalking me. “So, the board?” I touch the white board that has three different-colored stripes down the middle. “Which one is best?”
“These four are perfect, you just need to see which fits you best when you try and carry it.”
“Right.” I trail my finger along the white one before moving in front of the most colorful one. I touch it where the yellow bleeds into red in the middle of the board before mixing with a royal blue at the bottom. “This one,” I say, looking from the board to Nate. “This is the one.”
I try it out, making sure I can carry it, and when Nate is satisfied we head over to the register, picking everything up as he nods to the man standing behind it.
“We haven’t paid,” I mumble as we walk out of the shop.
He looks back at me, rolling his eyes as we stop where his board is, ignoring what I said as he points to my bag on my shoulder.
“Want to put that in my car?”
“I…” His brow raises as my gaze flicks back to the shop and then him. “Yeah.”
He nods, still holding my hand and leading me over to a parking lot where there’s several cars parked. I don’t see any of his normal shiny expensive cars, but he stops at a royal-blue Land Rover, a tire attached to the back along with some kind of board and paddles on the roof.
He leans his board against the side of his car, his hand reaching up as his fingers skim along my arm over the suit and up to my shoulder, gently pulling the bag off and placing it inside the car.
“Ready?”
I push my shoulders back as he picks his board back up, readjusting my grip on my own board as my palms become clammy. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The twinkle of anticipation in her eyes has me lost in them for a second before I lead the way onto the beach. She starts to walk toward the water and I stop, digging my board in the sand and laughing.
“Where are you going?”
“The sea,” she deadpans. “To surf.”
I continue laughing as she walks back toward me. “All the gear, no idea.” I shake my head as she tries to dig her board into the sand beside mine, failing as it teeters and nearly falls on her. “Whoa!” I jump beside her. “Here, let me help.”
“No!” she shouts, gaining the attention of several passersby. “I’ve got it.” She huffs and puffs, trying her hardest to dig it into the ground. “Stupid sand,” she mutters under her breath.
“Alrighty then.” I put my hands up in surrender before placing them on my hips as I tilt my head to the side and watch her. “Can I just—”
“I said,” she growls, finally getting the board to stand in the sand on its own. “I’ve got it.” She flashes me a knowing grin before widening her stance as she waves her hand. “Continue forth, oh wise one.”
“First things first, you can’t go into the cold water without warming up. Tris would kill me if you went back injured.”
Her eyes widen at the sound of Tris’s name, the chocolate brown taking on a darker hue as she reaches forward, her hand not making contact as she says, “Can we erm…” She makes a noise in the back of her throat. “Do you think we could keep this between us?”
Between us? “It’s okay, I taught Tris how to surf, too. He knows I’m perfectly capable.”
“No, that’s not—I meant.” She sighs. “I mean this.” Waving her hands between the two of us, she continues, “Us being here… together. I told him I was going to the record store but if he knew I was here with you he might think it was planned.” She takes a much-needed breath. “And I don’t want him to think I’m—”
“Lying?”
She gives me a slight nod of her head and although I get what she’s saying, I don’t understand why. Why does she want to keep it a secret? It’s not like Tris doesn’t know we talk, that we’re kind of friends. He didn’t bat an eyelash when I told him I took her to the sports bar, so I’m almost certain he won’t care about this.
Her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she worries it has me placating her as I say, “I get it.” She nods quickly, relieved. “I can be your dirty little secret.” I wink to lighten the mood and her face flushes. “Are you ready to warm up?” I ask, switching the conversation and distracting her fully.
Her chest lifts on a deep breath. “I guess so.”
I lead her in some easy stretches to get the blood flowing around our bodies and after my muscles feel ready, I place our boards opposite each other on the sand and point to hers. “Lie down on top of it.” I watch her as she lies down on it—back to the board. I try not to laugh but I can’t help it as it booms out around us.
“What?” Her tone is impatient as she looks up at me, her eyes narrowing.
“You… I...” I can’t get my words out and she rolls her eyes, sitting up. I get myself under control and drop down onto my board to show her how to do it—chest facing down. She watches me as I prop my hands under my chin and stare her down, trying not to laugh again.
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” I can see the playfulness in her eyes as she stands up and places her hands on her hips. “How would you feel if I was trying to teach you how to… to...” She looks away, obviously trying to think of something.
“Shall I give you some thinking space? Because there’s nothing you could teach me I don’t already know.” I give her my cockiest grin.
The side of her lip quirks up. “I’ll find your weakness, Cole.”
She matches my cocky grin with one of her own and I find myself thinking it’s her: she’s my kryptonite and it’s taken me nearly six years to realize it. “Keep trying, babe.”
“You did not just ‘babe’ me,” she practically growls, fire shooting out of her eyes in my direction.
“Oh, but I did. Now lie down for me.” Her eyes bulge out and she purses her lips, looking like she’s thinking about saying something sarcastic back but instead she stays silent and drops down onto her stomach. “Great. Now we’re going to go over how to paddle when you’re on your board.”
I show her the correct body position so the board doesn’t fire out from underneath her and after she’s grasped that, I show her how to pop up.
“Are you sure that’s the foot you feel comfortable using?” She nods, her left foot in front of the other. “Awesome. Shall we catch some waves?”
“Is that surfer lingo?” She looks at me.
I laugh. “Not quite.” I pick up my board and start running toward the sea. “Try to keep up, babe.”
“Wait—what?” I hear the slapping sound of her feet behind me as they hit the wet sand, trying to keep up.
Grinning, I lay my board down, wading into the water with it beside me until I’m at a height I can get on it and paddle. I pretend like I’m storming ahead of her when in reality I’m going slow so I can keep an eye on her getting into the water.
I paddle away from the breaking point of the bigger waves and sit up on my board, watching as she paddles frantically toward me against the current. I laugh as she flails and topples off, the board popping up three feet away from where she disappeared, with her on its tail.
She coughs and the determination on her face to get back on the board has me staying where I am. When she eventually makes it over to me, I teach her how to sit up on the board without it toppling over. That she gets right away, much to my dismay.
“See, that wasn’t bad at all. You’re doing well for a Barney.”
“Purple dinosaur?” she asks, running her hands through her wet hair.
I get distracted wishing I could run my hands in the same path she just did before I look into her waiting eyes. “I… no. Not Barney the dinosaur.” I shake my head with a smile. “Never mind.”
Her gaze flits down before widening. “What’s that white stuff?” She points to my board as her back straightens and she looks down at her own board. “I don’t have any white stuff on mine!”
I hold in my snort as she shouts about “white stuff.” But when I see her chest heaving, I realize how serious she’s being. This is her first time in the water, I need to remember that.
“The ‘white stuff’ as you so eloquently put it, is wax. You don’t need it because your board has the traction here.” I rub the board by her legs. “See?”
“So I don’t need it?” she asks, her voice small.
I place my hand under her chin, getting her to look up at me. “I would never put you in any danger.” She takes a stuttering breath as she stares into my eyes. “No, you don’t need the wax.” I look behind me seeing the perfect starter wave form. I grin and turn back to her. “Are you ready for your first wave? Get down and start paddling, don’t worry about popping up just catch the wave for now. Okay?”
“Catch the wave?”
“When you feel your board lift, grab onto the sides and ride it to the shore.” I look behind me. “Paddle!”
“Ahhh!” she shouts, the sound of the water splashing next to me telling me she’s going for it.
I watch her paddle as the wave passes under her, taking her and her board with it toward the shore. She makes it all the way there, falling off at the very end as the wave breaks on the sand.
She stands up and wipes her face, turning toward me with her hands in the air. I throw mine up, cheering, and she does too, until I remember she’s tethered to her board. My hands go to my mouth as her board pulls her back into the sea and she grabs onto it, spluttering as she pulls it onto the beach.
I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, “Are you okay?”
She leans back on the sand and puts up both her thumbs; she’s a tough cookie, but it’s time to show her how a real surfer does it.
I paddle back out to the bigger waves, duck diving under the breaking point. I blow out a breath and keep paddling as I reach the surface of the water, sitting back up and waiting for a wave. I’m not waiting long before I see my opening.
I turn my board to face the beach and start paddling until I’m at the top of the wave. I pop up at the right moment and pick up speed as I surf down the barrel toward the narrow opening at the end of the breaking point barely making it out without making an ass of myself.
Making it in one piece, I bail into the water after shooting a wave to Amelia who is now standing at the edge of the sand, shielding her eyes with her hand.
Once I’ve paddled back to shore, I drag my board out of the water and set it beside hers.
“Wow,” she whispers, awe in her voice. “That was… amazing.” She looks back out onto the water, her eyes shining with excitement. “I want to go again!” She doesn’t give me a chance to reply as she runs back toward the water.
My lips lift up into an uncontrollable grin as I follow after her, getting into the water as she starts paddling deeper into the ocean. For the next hour she rides small waves, each one ending with a cheer from both of us. She goes under the water more times than I can count, but it doesn’t matter because each and every time she comes up spluttering, she gets back onto the board.
“I love this!” she shouts when she sits on top of the board, coming up next to me as we float in the calming waters. “I think—” She’s cut off as her chest heaves with a hiccup, her hand slapping on her wetsuit. “Argh, I hate hiccu—”
Another one racks her body and she tilts forward, losing her balance and almost toppling off the board. I reach out, bracing my core and catching her arm. “Alright, mermaid. Shall we call it a day and get back on dry land?”
“Ye—” She growls when she hiccups again, her nose wrinkling.
I chuckle and push her board forward. “Come on then.”
We drag our boards onto the sand and I walk with mine away from the sea, placing it down and removing the ankle cuff of the leash. She does the same and lies down in the sand.
“I’m pooped,” she groans, her chest lifting on another hiccup as she stretches her arms above her head before sitting up. “I should probably get going, I’m not sure what time the buses stop.”
I flip onto my stomach, letting the sand sieve through my fingers. “What do you mean, buses?”
She turns her head, her eyes not quite meeting mine. “I took the bus this morning.”
She stands up and I jump to my feet. “Why didn’t you drive? It’s so much quicker.”
She huffs out a breath, her shoulders pulling back. “What is it with you men? Like I constantly tell Tris: that car is for work use when I have the kids.”
“I’m pretty sure I remember Tris saying he bought you that car.” She narrows her eyes. “But whatever, you’re not taking the bus home. I’ll drive you.”
“No, no. It’s fine, I can…” she trails off as I step past her, grabbing both of our boards. “Come on, we’ll get the boards strapped onto the rack of my car.”
“Okay,” she finally relents, walking beside me as we make our way back to my car, the sound of her hiccups echoing around us. “Goddammit, I hate these things.”
I chuckle as I attach both boards to the top of my Land Rover, grabbing my clothes and towel out of the car and handing Amelia her bag. Pointing over to the small wooden shacks for people to change in, I say, “You can dry off and change in there. I’ll meet you back here.”
“Sure.” Spinning around, she starts to walk toward the shack and I can’t help my gaze trail down her body, taking in every dip and curve it displays. She seems to be unaware of the several sets of gazes following her, as if she’s so focused on the task at hand nothing else matters. That or she’s completely oblivious to the effect she has on guys.
Before she closes the doors, her gaze meets mine and the small smile she gives me has me turning my head.
What the hell is wrong with me? She has me smiling like a goofball.
I strip off my wetsuit pulling my dry board shorts on over my wet boxers and putting on a t-shirt. I don’t mind being wet still, as long as she’s comfortable.
Five minutes later, she comes out looking red-faced, the wetsuit draped over her arm. “You could’ve told me this was like trying to escape a straightjacket.”
I bark out a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot what it was like the first time I tried to get out of one. But hey, you survived.”
“Barely,” she mutters, holding the offending object up. “What do I do with this now?”
I take it from her and throw it in the back of the car with the other wet things. “I’ll take it home and wash it if you want? I’ll bring it to your place sometime next week.”
She fidgets, clasping her hands in front of her. “I—” She hiccups again. “I don’t have.” Hiccup. “Anywhere to keep.” Hiccup. “It.”
“Keep what?” I look at her, puzzled.
“The suit.” She points at the car. “And the board.”
“Don’t worry about that, you can keep everything at my place. I have a special space for all my gear.”
“You have a—” Her chest rattles again. “Special space?”
“Don’t make it sound so geeky, it’s just a room full of sports equipment.” I hesitate before spewing out, “Maybe I could show you sometime?”
“I…” She pauses, causing me to skirt my gaze to her. “I’d like that,” she answers softly.
Her admission makes me grin and I graze my palm along her soft cheek without even thinking about what I’m doing. When my skin connects with hers, she sucks in a breath as she flicks her gaze down to my lips and back up, leaning her body closer to mine so we’re almost touching.
The tension in the air crackles as I move in closer to her, my hand curling around the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her damp hair.
I breathe in deep. Up this close I can smell the salt water that has dried on her skin mixed in with her floral perfume. She smells like adventure and the outdoors and it only pulls me in more, until she hiccups again and it breaks the moment between us.
She steps back, shaking her head slightly and my arm drops by my side, feeling the loss of her body as if I’m the ocean and she’s the sand—you can’t have one without the other. Looking left and then right, she wraps her arms around her waist and I frown at the change in her demeanor, wondering if I overstepped some unwritten line.
She looks up at me and I clear my throat as I open the car door for her, trying to distract her as I tell her, “I know you don’t want Tris knowing about today so I can drop you off at the end of the driveway.”
“Honestly, Nate, you don’t have to.”
I place my hand on her waist, pushing her forward and waiting until she finally lifts herself into the seat. Shutting the door, I walk around to the driver’s side, giving her a small smile as I start the engine and reverse out of the parking spot before pulling onto the main road. When I turn my head to look at her quickly, she has a small smile on her face. The thought that it was me that put it there sends a fire lighting inside me.
I want to make that smile appear every day.
Pulling up to a stoplight, I turn to face her, taking note of her shoulders that are drawn down and the way she’s moved closer to the passenger door—a complete contradiction to the smile that was just gracing her face a few minutes ago. Her head is turned but I can see her reflection in the side mirror. Her blank gaze doesn’t seem to be staring at anything in particular as her hand runs up and down her forearm in an unconscious gesture.
I lift my hand off the steering wheel thinking to entwine our fingers together, but I stutter in my movement. I want nothing more than for her to tell me everything she’s thinking, to show me what she’s feeling by looking into my eyes, but I know I won’t get anything out of her now she seems to have gone inside her own head.
Did I do something wrong?
The light turning green makes the choice for me and I blow out a breath, placing my hand back on the wheel and putting my foot down on the gas pedal.
The large houses start to come into view, each of them getting progressively bigger as I drive closer to Tris’s house, eventually coming to a stop at the end of the long driveway. It’s the first time I’ve come here and not driven right up to the house and let myself in like it’s my second home.
She doesn't move for several seconds, not until I clear my throat. “Home sweet home.”
“What—” She cuts herself off as her head whips around, seeing where we are. “Oh.” Leaning down, she picks up her bag off the floor, her hand reaching for the handle before she finally looks at me again. “Thanks for today.” She pushes the door open, getting out and starting to close the door. Before it fully closes she grins, her eyes flashing with the same light that was there when she was learning how to surf. “By the way, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you buying this stuff. I’ll pay you back.”
She shuts her door and walks around the front of the car, giving me time to roll down my window. “Hey!” She turns around, her almost dry hair blowing gently in the breeze. “What stuff?” I wink and drive off without giving her time to answer, but I look back in my rearview mirror, my heart beating loudly in my chest at the smile on her face as she watches me drive away.