Page 3 of When There Was You
“Want me to grab the longboard or?—?”
“I’ve got it.”
Mick gives me an approving gaze, grabs the shortboard, and heads for the surf. I heft the unwieldy surfboard, grappling for a few steps before gaining my bearings.
I wade in, my toes breaching the shockingly icy ocean, followed by the frigid sea slithering into my wetsuit. “Holy mother!”
Mick chuckles. “I should’ve warned you. It’s hella cold when you first get in before the water warms up under your wetsuit.”
My lips press into a sardonic smile that evaporates when my teeth chatter.
“Can you see the channel?” he asks.
Welcoming the diversion, I scan the incoming waves, assessing prior to taking a stab, and pointing to what I think is one.
“Right on, Jax. Great job.”
Pleased, I follow his lead and climb onto the longboard. As we paddle out together, I swallow any qualms. I’ve got my safe harbor by my side. His presence gives me a confidenceboost.
If not for the adrenaline pumping through my veins, my limbs might quit propelling me. It’s work paddling out, the waves undulating beneath us and providing serious resistance.
When we stop, Mick pulls my surfboard next to his and kisses me. It doesn’t do much to calm my twitchy nerves, but I try and relax…again. We watch sets roll past, Mick pointing out the merits of each.
“Here comes a good one for you,” he says. “Ready?”
My adrenal glands spike. “Yup.”
“Paddle!”
My arms glide through the ocean as the wave lifts me. My stomach dips wildly and I cling to the board, gripping the sides like the white-knuckled chicken I am. I remain prone for a few minutes before turning out of it, as Mick suggested.Total fucking rush!
“How’d that go?” Mr. Gorgeous asks when I reach him.
“Good! I freaked out a little, so I didn’t even try to pop up, but it helped to ride it for a while, get the hang of it, you know?”
“Atta girl.”
We spend a couple of hours on the water. I ride waves flat, others kneeling, and some where I finally attempt to stand. I come close a few times but never fully land it, plunging into the ocean without an ounce of finesse.
Not that I care. I’m trying and improving, and that’s what counts. Being here with Mick, learning to surf…it’s one of the coolest days of my life. Then again, anytime I combine my two oceans—and Mick embodies everything ocean—it’s powerful.
And the day’s not over, not by a long shot.The best is yet to come.A laugh escapes at my own double entendre. I predict we’re all coming tonight—and that brings on a full-body shudder of glorious anticipation.
We hike back up the cliff, peel off our wetsuits, and lay them on the deck railing. After showering off the sandand saltwater, we both don our usual, broken-in Levi’s on our lower halves. Mick throws on a T-shirt, and I opt for something prettier—a white gauzy top—but I don’t bother with a bra, and with the gossamer-thin material, it leaves little to the imagination. I blow-dry my hair and apply a touch of makeup, then rejoin my man, who’s loading albums on the turntable.
ZZ Top’sTres Hombresplays first, those telltale guitar riffs filling the cottage, followed by their signature bluesy sound. My body responds, and I dance toward my boyfriend, slow and sultry. We both mouth, “Have mercy,” when the band sings it, and he grabs my hand and spins me around the floor.
We’re buoyant as we make dinner. Mick preps steaks for the grill and I make home fries the way Remy taught me—with fresh garlic and scallions sautéed in olive oil. While those are cooking, I rinse off cherry tomatoes and slice cucumbers for a salad, anticipation pinballing through my system as my thoughts swirl.
Mick encircles me with one arm. “You seem a little keyed up, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm in my ear.
He knows I am.
“Maybe a little,” I breathe.
“I was thinking we could try something new tonight,” he says, low, his beautiful eyes gleaming.
“What…what do you mean?”
