He chuckles and then crouches down in front of me.
Surprised by the sudden movement, for a second I can’t move anything but my eyes, which follow him. His fingers lightly touch my foot as he unzips the tiny zipper at the back of my sandal, collapsing the other hand around my ankle and then easing my foot out. There’s that fluttering in my stomach again; my skin breaks out in chills—I hope he doesn’t notice. Baffled by this otherwise intimate gesture, I still can’t do much but stare down at the top of his golden-brown head, my lips parted and my eyebrows scrunching up in my forehead. When I don’t protest, he takes off the other shoe, and before long I’m standing on the sand in my bare feet. He pushes himself back into a stand two inches taller than me and places my sandals into my hand, hanging them on my fingers by the thin straps.
I stare at him in bewilderment, swallowing nervously.
“Umm, so what exactly did happen yesterday?” I ask, feeling the need to change the subject—not because I was offended by what he did … No, I certainly wasn’t offended.
It was something else.
“Luke Everett,” he says, holding out a hand to me.
I glance down at his hand and back up at his gorgeous sculpted face and deep hazel eyes, undecided what’s confusing me more: the way he’s smiling at me or the way he keeps avoiding my questions.
“My name is Luke,” he repeats, urging me to shake his hand the charming smile never faltering. “We should get that much out of the way, I think.”
Reluctantly I place my hand into his, and in an instant I feel a sense of security.
“Sienna Murphy.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sienna,” he says while still holding my hand.
Finally he lets go.
“To answer your question,” he says, “she came over to talk to me, and when she asked me to show her how to surf, I told her—as I would any other customer—that I was already booked for the day and that she’d have to set up an appointment.” He laughs lightly, shaking his head. “She didn’t like that much.”
I make a face just thinking about it.
“I saw you talking to her yesterday,” he goes on. “That worried me a little. Thankfully you’re nothing like her—that would’ve been a disappointment.”
Luke sits down on the sand, drawing his knees up and resting his forearms atop them.
“You teach surfing?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I’m not a pro, but I know my way around the waves enough to offer lessons.” He points in the direction of the hotel. “I work part-time for the surf school.”
I smile on the inside, assuming that the girls in his group yesterday were likely just customers. I drop my sandals and sit down next to him, crossing my legs underneath my skirt.
“Then I guess you’re not just some stuck-up surfer with territory issues?”
He laughs.
“Nah, I’m not one of those.”
“Well, that’s good to know”—I smile over at him—“because that would’ve been a disappointment.”
His lips spread into a soft grin as he looks out at the ocean.
“I thought the surfing here was supposed to be insane and dangerous, like you see on TV?”
“Oh, it can be,” he says. “Mostly in the winter around here, and over at Laniakea. But give it time, you’ll see some big waves. I like surfing when the storms roll in, myself.”
That takes me a little by surprise.
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
He shrugs. “Sure, I guess it is, but I’ve done all right.”
“Don’t you worry about getting struck by lightning?”
He chuckles and I feel myself turning red—clearly I know nothing about surfing.
“I’d be more worried about getting my leash tangled on a reef, or getting knocked unconscious and drowning.”
I feel my eyes springing open wide in my face.
“Oh, well, yeah, that definitely sounds dangerous—ever been in a situation like that?”
“Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “Nothing major.”