Eversea: A Love Story - Part 9
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Part 9

Jazz: I just squealed out loud at the traffic light. Ppl looking at me weird. OMG-can't believe convo we just had! But seriously, if he breaks your heart, I'll break his beautiful face-See you this PM. Xoxoxox I smiled. She may be ditzy at times, but there was no one who looked out for me more than Jazz. She was like a sister, a crazy lovable aunt, and a best friend rolled into one. She was an old soul-that much was certain. Not for the first time, I hoped things would eventually work out for her and Joey.

F O U R T E E N.

I pulled into the driveway at the back of my house behind Mrs. Weaton's cottage and peeled my bare legs, like a Band-Aid, off the hot vinyl seat. I felt like every day was getting unseasonably hotter, not cooler, as we moved away from summer.

Hearing the whine and screech of a large truck, I realized they must be delivering the dumpster around the front of the house, so I jogged up the back stairs, through the blessed cool of the house, and back into the hot wet air on the front porch, trying not to look around for Jack as I did so.

Mrs. Weaton's cottage was off to the side. It used to be the old kitchen block, back from the days when kitchens were built outside to avoid the heat of the cooking in the summer months or the whole house burning down in the case of a fire. It had been remodeled into servant's quarters after the end of slavery, and then into a rent-producing cottage once the land started being sold off after the depression.

Jose was out front speaking in Spanish to the two guys who were with him unloading packs of roofing shingles. I made sure everyone knew what they were doing and directed the guy with the dumpster to drive around to the back of the property before the town council had a kitten about it being parked askew on my front lawn. Then I went to knock on Mrs. Weaton's door. I waited a few minutes and after getting no answer, headed back to my place.

Upon re-entering my house through the front door, I heard a cackle and a deep chuckle coming from the kitchen. Lo and behold, there sat Jack and Mrs. Weaton hamming it up over coffee at the table. She was giggling like a schoolgirl, her bony hand on his arm, and he had his head bent toward hers conspiratorially.

They both turned and looked at me guiltily as I walked in. I tried not to look at Jack and instead focused on my elderly neighbor as she greeted me.

"Hi, dear! Jack was just keeping me entertained with secrets of Hollywood while that awful racket was going on outside the house. But I must be off!"

Wow, he was really getting comfortable trusting people.

Mrs. Weaton patted his shoulder, and I noticed his nonplussed expression.

She grabbed me for a quick squeeze, enveloping me in a waft of lavender and cinnamon. "See you tomorrow at book club. I'll bring lemon squares." She pulled back and held me at arm's length, a big grin on her friendly, lined face. Then pulling me in for another quick hug, she whispered, "Nana works in mysterious ways." And with that she shuffled out to the hall.

I turned back to Jack whose jaw was slack.

"Oh my G.o.d, she knows who I am. Did you tell her?"

"No. I thought you must have. I haven't spoken to her since I told her about the roofers. What were you talking about then, if you weren't filling her in on star gossip?"

"You. Funny childhood stories about you."

"Oh." How horrifying. "Like what?"

He grinned and winked. "Well, I quite like knowing something about you that you don't know I know. It's a novel feeling for me to be on the other side of that."

"Okaaaay." I decided to let that go. For now. "Anymore of that coffee?"

"Sure." He looked me up and down as he stood and walked round to the coffee maker. It was amazing how comfortable he looked in my house. "Where've you been?"

I was instantly self-conscious of my barely-there Lycra athletic shorts and tank. "Uh, kayaking."

"Did you manage not to side swipe any bikers on your way home?" He handed me a cup of coffee with cream.

Self-conscious turned into unbelievably embarra.s.sed at his mention of our near miss. I was kind of hoping he hadn't put the whole thing together. "Um ... " I managed, fl.u.s.tered.

He winked. "Kidding. So was it fun?"

I exhaled and tried to smile. "Yeah. It wasn't long though, I ended up chatting with Joey and also Jazz came and found me." I realized I should tell him sooner rather than later. "Mrs. Weaton isn't the only Butler Cove resident who knows of your existence, I told Joey and Jazz," I admitted, wincing.

He stilled in the act of pouring himself another cup. Then he put it down and braced his forearms against the counter, his back to me and his head hanging down. The action brought his shoulder blades into sharp focus beneath the same dark green tee he'd been wearing last night.

He sighed. "Then it's just a matter of time isn't it?" He went back to pouring his coffee.

"Until what?"

"Until someone calls in the story for a small fortune."

"They wouldn't do that."

"People will do anything for money, Keri Ann." He turned to me with an expression that said I should have known better.

"These people won't."

"Why don't you do it?" he asked, pushing off the counter and coming toward me.

"Do what?"

"Call it in. You could renovate this kitchen with the money. Heck, probably the whole house." He raised his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't ever do that!" I was outraged. How could he say he trusted me one day, although I'd obviously broken that trust by telling two, no, make that three people, including Hector, and then ask me if I'd sell him out the next?

He stopped in front of me but looked into the distance. "I know you wouldn't."

"How?" I asked.

"How do I know you wouldn't sell me out?"

"Yeah. Especially since I admitted to outing you to two people just this morning."

He lifted a hand and ran it through his unruly hair. It caused my eyes to drop to his broad chest. "Well, here's the thing, it seems to me you have a lot of people around here who care very deeply for you, and I doubt they would jeopardize you by selling me out, so I guess that makes me lucky to know you."

I shrugged, warmed by his observation, and took a sip of coffee to cover my nerves at his nearness. I was relieved neither of us felt we had to mention our awkward almost kiss the night before. We could just move on as friends, as if the moment never occurred. As if just remembering my tongue touching his thumb by accident, and the sound he made when it happened, didn't have my insides flipping over again. But sure, if he could forget so could I.

Yeah, right.

"Do you need to stay at the house today?" he asked.

I looked around. The walls were bare and washed and ready for paint. The floors needed to be sanded, cleaned, and stained, but that would require renting equipment, and I needed funds for that. The roofers would be busy all day, and I didn't have to work until tomorrow. But there were always things I could be doing like cleaning, finishing the front porch, picking a paint color, working on some of my sea-gla.s.s and driftwood projects.

"I guess not, but-"

"Great," Jack interjected. "Grab your swimsuit and whatever else you need for a day on the water. You are going to teach me to paddleboard. There's some equipment under the beach house and we may as well take advantage of this good weather before the storm gets any closer."

Swimsuit? My only swimsuit was a white string bikini Jazz had persuaded me to buy two summers ago. My black one piece had recently given up the ghost, and by that I meant it had become almost completely see-through. I could probably swim in the lycra shorts and tank I was wearing or I could just bite the bullet and try and be normal and unselfconscious.

"Uh ... sure. Let me just run upstairs and grab some stuff."

The water was a little choppier than it had been that morning, but still calm enough to learn to paddleboard. We dragged the oversized surf-looking board out from under the beach house and over the small dune path. I was still wearing what I had kayaked in, but Jack had changed into the black board shorts I had seen him in the first morning he ran over to my house. I tried to watch where I was putting my feet rather than his muscly back carrying half the board right in front of me. It was mighty hard though, so I gave in and did an inventory of his body while he couldn't see me.

His right arm with the medallion tattoo, signifying he was a Warrior of Erath, was flexed with the weight of the board, and his tan shoulder blades were dusted with the odd mole and freckle from time in the sun. On his left hip I could see a tendril of black ink from some hidden tattoo peeking out from his shorts.

I inhaled over the lump that seemed to be permanently lodged in my chest. His long legs had a sprinkling of dark hair over his calves and a chain of ink around his right ankle. G.o.d, even his feet were beautiful. And I kind of hated feet. How did people get made like this? We made it to the beach without me tripping.

Luckily, the tidal gullies that formed like long rivers in the low parts of the beach were still there and stretched out parallel to the ocean for several hundred yards in either direction. We wouldn't have long until the tide was in. I directed him to the gully and we lowered the board in.

"This is a great way to learn, because you won't be as afraid of your balance in twelve inches of water as you will out there with the swell of waves."

There wasn't anyone on the beach in our area as far as I could see. It was the middle of the week and we were in a section of seasonal rentals. "I'll show you first."

I grabbed the paddle and showed him how to straddle the board a bit further forward from where you wanted to end up and work your knees onto it. Then I tucked my toes under and with a hand bracing and balancing me, I used my bent knees to slowly raise myself into a standing position with my feet on the outer edges of the board rather than one in front of the other as one would on a surfboard. Using the paddle, I stuck it in the water to my side and used it to propel myself forward. Then I changed sides.

"See? Easy as pie. Just make sure and use your body, not your arms to paddle." I grinned at him walking along beside me on the sand. "And to keep your legs slightly bent with your weight centered. Your turn," I said, hopping off and using a foot to stop the board continuing away from us. We switched places. He was a fast learner.

We went back and forth along the gully until it almost disappeared with the incoming tide.

He nodded out at the water. "Time for the deep blue sea?"

"Yeah, you think you can keep your balance with me sitting on the end?" I challenged him.

"Is that even possible?"

"Well, I weigh a little more than a Golden Retriever, but I've seen it done with them, so let's give it a shot." I grinned.

I directed him to move his feet back a little, carefully climbed onto the board facing him, and crossed my legs. He was bracing all his muscles tight to keep the board from tipping, and I swore I could see every single muscle he had. We got to a balance point and he paddled toward the end of the gully that naturally curved toward the open sea.

"Wow, this is a work out." He laughed as he turned the board and slowly slid over the small lapping waves out toward the ocean.

"Yeah, people actually do yoga on paddleboards if you can believe that."

"I'll be doing that in no time," he joked. "My abs are steel fortresses that can handle anything."

"I noticed," I said, and then looked away quickly as I felt my cheeks heat. He cleared his throat but didn't say anything, and I mentally kicked myself for creating an awkward moment just when we had gotten past our almost kiss. I didn't notice we had gone a little too far out and suddenly a wave came on at an angle to the board. I braced to hang on, but we tipped and both of us splashed sideways into the water. I came up sputtering and lunged onto the board as he treaded water next to me laughing a big throaty chuckle.

"You did that on purpose!" I yelped.

He tipped his head back and laughed again.

"Seriously, I am terrified of sharks, get me back on the f.u.c.king board." I tried unsuccessfully and ungracefully to kick my upper body onto the board amid the undulating waves as Jack tried to get his laughter under control.

I glared at him. "Could you help me at least?"

"Can't you stand?"

At that point I realized Jack had the upper part of his chest out of the water. Mortified, I lowered my tiptoes to the invisible sandy bottom, but I could only reach it between each wave.

"There are still sharks out here, you know," I said petulantly. I wasn't kidding. I was also a complete coward when it came to swimming in 'dark water' as I called it. I really couldn't even get in a lake without shuddering. Call it an overactive imagination, but I would rather be 'on' the water than 'in' it. Jack must have seen something on my face because he instantly stopped laughing and came close. He laid the paddle on the board and came next to me.

"Hold onto the board and lift a leg up," he said reaching down into the water.

All thoughts of sharks fled as I felt his hands make contact with the bare skin of my thigh and his fingers run down behind my knee. A shark could have nose-b.u.t.ted me right then, and I would have only swatted it away. Flicking my eyes down nervously, and trying to keep my breathing even, I lifted my leg and his hand continued down to my foot where he cupped it into a stirrup.

"Thanks," I mumbled, glancing at him.

"No sweat." He nodded tightly.

Completely embarra.s.sed by my idiotic outburst and reeling from his touch, I went to climb onto the board, but all of a sudden Jack let go of my foot and pulled me against him. I gasped and instinctively grabbed hold of his hard shoulders.

The contact of my sliding skin against his in the water made my heart pound in my throat and something uncomfortable happen deep in my belly. His arm at my waist gripped me hard as each new swell of water gently rocked us. I looked up at him.

A bead of salt water trickled from his waterdarkened hair down the side of his face to his full mouth. I braced myself to look into his eyes, but before I could, he tucked his face in close to my jaw, his stubble setting my nerves on fire.

Breathe, Keri Ann, breathe. So much for us ignoring the almost kiss and being just friends. Clearly, he was having a hard time with that. I gritted my teeth. So was I.

He suddenly pulled away, and his arm shot out to grab the paddleboard before it got out of reach. "We almost lost that." He grinned.

I blinked, confused, as he resumed helping me up onto the board.

"You paddle, I better swim back," he said, then turned and cut through the swells with strong strokes.

What on earth had that been about? I took a deep breath and paddled slowly back to shallower water on my knees before standing up.

He'd almost kissed me again. Actually, I had almost kissed him. One more second and I would have. All the reasons I had last night for not doing it just didn't seem to matter anymore.

F I F T E E N.

Jack and I didn't say much on our way back to the beach house until he handed me a beach towel and suggested I change so he could throw my wet stuff in the laundry.

Grabbing my backpack, I stepped into a downstairs bathroom.

We'd talked earlier about hanging out by the pool after we paddleboarded and eating some sandwiches for lunch, so I figured it was time to break out the bikini.

Drawing my confidence together, I pulled it out of my bag along with the matching and way too gauzy white cover up. I put the bikini on and adjusted the ties, making sure there wouldn't be a wardrobe malfunction displaying my a.s.sets. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s weren't overly large, but looking in the mirror and taking in the white triangles on my top half, I felt like an awkward offering. Quickly, I pulled the cover-up on too, noting it had been severely misnamed. Since I had nothing else to wear, there was nothing to do but be confident in myself.

My hair was wet and full of salt and sand, which I would have to deal with later after the pool. I let it out of its hair tie and used my hands to shake it loose so it could dry faster. At least the salt water helped it dry with a little wave and body. I grabbed up my bundle of wet clothes and headed for the laundry room.

Still in his swimsuit, he must have only brought the one, Jack was throwing a bunch of his clothes in the dryer. Barely turning around, he grabbed my sodden stuff.

"Thanks," I said.

He shrugged. "Sure, no problem."

He still hadn't turned around, and his shoulders looked tense.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to go?" I didn't want to hang around if I was only p.i.s.sing him off. Besides, it was no picnic for me either. If being around Jack was fraught with tension on a normal day, this moment was totally throwing me off-kilter.

"No. It's okay."