Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“You’re going to be the death of me, Mrs. Brewer.”
“Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen by way of shark.”
He shakes his head and leads me into the water. “Try to listen and cooperate so you feel like you used your lessons, and we can go back to the house.”
I laugh.
“Get on your board and let’s paddle out,” he says.
I follow his lead, getting situated on the middle of my orange piece of foam. We paddle a short distance, then place our hands on the board and press up to go over the breaking wave.
“Nice,” Renn says, smiling proudly beside me.
“I’m a natural.”
He snorts. “Keep paddling.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
The only good thing about this activity is staring at Renn without fear of running into someone or wrecking a car. And if I get eaten by a shark, at least I’ll go down with stars in my eyes.
His arms are cut to perfection. Watching the water droplets slip off his skin, caressing the lines of his muscles is akin to foreplay.
“Okay, babe, here comes a wave,” he says.
Babe? My stomach flurries, distracting me from the task at hand.
“Hands on your board,” he says. “Pop up, shoulders square—Blakely!”
Splash! I topple spectacularly into the water, taking in a mouthful of salt. I'm met with his laughter once I get back to the surface.
“Are you okay?” he asks, offering me a hand.
I spit a few times to rid my mouth of the grit of the sea.
“Try again?”
I blow my hair out of my face. “I really think you’re wrong about the hair being down thing.” I struggle but manage to get back on my board.
“Your tits in that bikini top are incredible.” He wiggles his brows. “I prefer them in my mouth, but this is my second favorite look.”
“Glad to know that. Now focus on the waves, pal.”
He fights a smile and paddles alongside me.
“Okay …” I take a deep breath. “Hands on the board. Pop up. Arms out and shoulders square—gah!”
I fall into the water again. This time, I keep my mouth closed.
“I’m not even getting to crouch,” I say, jutting my bottom lip out. “What am I doing wrong?”
Renn turns on his board to face me. “Nothing. This isn’t easy. It just takes practice. You’re doing great.”
I get back on my board.
We attempt wave after wave, getting pushed back to shore and having to paddle out again. Renn is ridiculously patient and sweet, encouraging me with tips and positive reinforcement.
The interaction swells my heart as I imagine him teaching his child how to surf. The gentleness in his voice, the pride when I manage to finally crouch. The way he cheers for me when I stand all of two seconds of my final ride.
“Look at you,” he says, pulling his board next to mine. Our legs dangle in the water. “You don’t even seem like a rookie now.”
“So I’m a pro?”
He laughs, bending toward me. I meet him in the middle, keeping my weight balanced on my board, and kiss him.
Renn’s lips taste like salt, his tongue hot like the sun. His hands are rough against my face as he cups my cheeks with his palms. He kisses me softly and slowly—like he has all the time in the world.
Not like he has less than ninety days to kiss me like this.
Finally, he pulls away. His eyes search mine as he repositions on his board.
“You know,” I say, remembering there are sharks and pulling my feet up on my board. “If I could stop time, I would do it right now.” My cheeks flush as I realize I said that out loud.
“In the ocean?”
My gaze locks with his. “Here with you.”
His pupils widen, but he doesn’t say anything. I don’t know if I caught him off guard or if he’s unsure how to respond. I’m not sure what to say, either.
Did I just blow everything?
I paddle myself in a half-circle. “I’m going to try to go all the way in this time. My last ride.”
“Get it.”
I swallow hard, emotionally unbalanced from our shared moment, and wait for the next wave. When it comes, I press against the board, pop up, and slide my foot back to the tail. My crouch is low and fairly wide, and my arms are in the position Renn showed me. I think I hear him shouting behind me as I feel the wind in my hair.
“Holy crap,” I say, my legs starting to shake. “I’m doing it. I’m—ah!”
The water rolls awkwardly and tosses me from the board. By the time I resurface, I’m so close to shore that it only takes a minute to find the sand.
I pull my foam buddy out of the water and turn to find Renn. He waves.
“Let’s see what you got, Mr. Brewer,” I shout, shivering despite the heat.
Like a professional athlete, he makes quick work out of getting to his feet and riding a wave that would’ve swamped me all the way to the beach.