“Yeah, always,” she answered. “When you have red hair, that tends to be a detail you remember.”
A pang of disappointment shot through him, but he nodded all the same. “Good.”
“Are you covered?” she asked. He nodded, but as he glanced at her he couldn’t help wondering if it was his imagination or if she too looked the slightest bit disappointed by his answer.
“Great,” he said, then he spotted the two boards he’d laid out before he’d gone to get her. The first was long and red with a white racing stripe down the center—the board he’d bought himself the second day he’d been on the island. Beside it lay a raggedy-looking foam board that he’d borrowed from a surf instructor buddy.
“I call red one!” Felicia shouted, then rushed toward his board with so much agility that it took him a minute to realize what was happening.
When he did, he jogged behind her, his hand outstretched. “Not on your life. You’re not even qualified to look at that board yet.”
“How would you know? I could be a natural.” She fisted her hands on her hips and grinned at him with so much enthusiasm that he had to take a minute to remind himself why it was she couldn’t have whatever it was she wanted.
“No way. You’ve got the old stand by here.” He set his foot on the foam board and Felicia wrinkled her pert nose.
“How am I supposed to look cool on the waves on that thing?”
“You won’t be on the waves. At least, not yet. Come here and I’ll show you how it’s done.”
For ten minutes, he set to work showing her how to lay on the board and paddle correctly, the two different ways to pop up onto the wave, and the way to hold herself when she’d finally gotten her footing. He had to hand it to her—she was a fast learner, and she looked more natural on the board than any of the tourists he’d seen.
“Okay, okay, I get it. Now are you ready to take me out on the ocean?” She was laying on her board, her cheek pressed to the foam surface as she surveyed him.
“Not just yet. Let me see you pop up one more time.”
She huffed and a piece of her hair blew out from in front of her face. “Okay. I’m paddling.” She made the motions as she went. “My feet are together on the board. I feel the wave, and then—
She bent her leg out over the edge of the board and hopped up, but her knees locked almost instantly.
“Almost.” He frowned. Of all the tips he’d given her, this one had been the hardest for her to follow. Standing, he mimed a stance for her., bending his knees while keep the arches of his feet center with the board. “More like this”
She bent her knees slightly, but not enough.
“No, um…” He looked her up and down, then, hating himself, he walked behind her and grabbed her waist. “Like this.”
He guided her lower, then sucked in a breath as her ass brushed against his thigh.
“Better,” he said, only too aware of the sudden grit in his voice.
Coughing, he regained his control and said. “Okay. Time to hit the waves.”
And to get out of close quarters once and for all…
The waves were, apparently, no more fun than the sand.
It felt like every time a wave pulled for her to ride, she tipped over and crash-landed in the waves. Worse was the way Trey kept grinning at her and saying things like “that’s okay.” Or “you’ll get the next one.”
This was why she never bothered to try out for a sports team or learned how to play anything. The pressure was too much. If she couldn’t get it right every time, what was the point of trying to do it at all?
Still, every time she bobbed back up in the water, Trey would swim toward her with his words of encouragement and instead of getting irritated, her heart would stop in her chest and she’d be struck again by the brightness of his blue eyes or the way his tanned skin glowed. On land, he was stunningly good-looking, it was true. But in the water? With the droplets glistening off his contoured muscles? He was practically otherworldly.
“How do you know when you’re just never meant to surf?” Felicia asked, and though she kept her tone light she knew there was still an edge of frustration to her voice.
“It’s been a tough day for surfing. Here. Why don’t you try the next one and if it doesn’t work, we’ll go back to the resort and I’ll get you a well-earned drink.”
Was he…asking her out? For a drink?
She had to confess, she wasn’t sure if this morning had been a date or not, but every time she contemplated the idea, she was reminded of her need for a vacation fling. And then about his comment about needing to let off steam. Then, of course, the way his ass looked in his navy blue board shorts…
Still, he’d spent most of the morning avoiding all opportunities to touch her. Hell, even when he’d had his hands on her hips and his warm touch singed through her, he’d only stayed there for ten seconds.
Maybe this was just some twisted version of pity where he was concerned…
“We have a deal?” His voice broke through her thoughts and she shook her head.