Page 19 of The Ohana Cottage

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MIA


Mia: Book me for three more weeks, please.

The very first thing I did after waking up was call my boss and get her approval for working remotely for a bit longer. I know it’s a little bit crazy, changing my plans for a guy I’ve known for just a few weeks, especially since I will eventually be going back to Minnesota. There’s no getting around that. But, I’m not ready to say goodbye to John just yet. I haven’t felt a connection like this with someone in my entire life, and I want to spend more time with him.

More importantly, my presence seems to be good for him. I can see his walls slowly coming down. It may be at a turtle’s pace, but who am I to push? I have no idea what’s going on in his mind, or what he went through overseas. There’s no way that I want to leave when he’s just starting to make progress. I like being the person that eases some of his pain.

John:You got it. :) What are you up to today?

My first thought is to head into town and grab a coffee from Julie before stopping in the bookstore. However, I feel like I’m getting a good read on John, and I know he would be more comfortable at the beach. Baby steps.

Mia: Will you teach me to surf? Or at least attempt to?

John: I can do that. Meet you outside in thirty min?

Mia: See ya then!

I get myself ready and meet him in his garage, where he’s pulling his surfboard off the wall.

“You do know what you got yourself into, right?” I ask John on our way to the beach. “I’ve never surfed a day in my life.”

“Well, it can’t be as bad as fishing,” he teases. “But we’ll practice on the sand first.” He shoots me a smile. “So you decided to stay, huh?”

“Yeah… I mean, why wouldn’t I want to? I’m in Hawaii, for Pete’s sake. Who wouldn’t want to stay longer in paradise? It definitely has nothing to do with a guy. Absolutely nothing,” I tease him back. I can feel him watching me, and I turn to see the corner of his mouth turn up into a smirk.

“I like when you smile,” I say softly, looking back down at the ground.

“I like when you make me smile,” he answers, sending butterflies into a tailspin in my stomach.

“Thanks again for taking care of me yesterday. Now I know that I definitely do get seasick. Next time I’ll take two Dramamine.”

“You would go again after that?” He seems surprised.

“Sure… what’s a little vomit? Besides, you looked like you were actually enjoying yourself.”

“I was.”

We reach an open stretch of sand, and John sets the board down. I’m glad to find that it’s not too busy by our spot on the beach… for John’s sake and for mine. I can pretty much predict how this is going to go, and it’s not gonna be pretty. I drop my phone and sunglasses on my towel and take a deep breath, clapping my hands together.

“All right, show me what ya got, teacher.”

We spend the next half-hour practicing with me laying down, pretending to paddle, and then jumping up into position to surf the wave. I am sweating in no time, and my thighs are on fire. No wonder surfers are always in such good shape; it’s quite the workout.

“Okay, you ready to try it in the water?”

My heart starts to race, and nerves take over. Wanting to show him that I can step outside of my comfort zone, too, I try to put on a brave face.

“Let’s do it,” I reply, probably not as convincingly as I imagine. I tug my shorts and tank top off, even more sure I made the right choice by going with my black one-piece instead of a bikini. At least I’ll have a fighting chance of keeping my lady parts covered when a wave inevitably knocks me over.

He leads me into the water, where I climb on the board and lay on my stomach. He pushes the board while I paddle out a ways and then manage to turn it around, facing the shore.

“John, don’t let go,” I say, mildly panicking.

“I‘m right here. Here comes a wave. When I say ‘now,’ you jump up to surfing stance, okay? You ready?”

“Okay…”

When John yells for me to hop up, my body refuses, and I cling tighter to the sides of the board, letting the wave wash over me.

“What the hell was that?” John says with a laugh, swimming over to rescue me and the board I’m still firmly attached to.

“I couldn’t do it!” I whine.

“I see that. Do you want to try again?”

“I suppose…”

I wish I could say the next few attempts are better, but they most definitely are not. I do attempt to stand up, but get knocked down over and over again, until I finally call it quits. Completely out of breath, I stumble onto the beach and flop down on my back, not even caring that I’m not on a towel. John sets the board down and lays down next to me.

“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow,” I say, panting.

John rolls onto his side, facing me, propping his head up with his hand. “You did better than I thought you were gonna do, honestly.”

I smack his chest, and he snickers. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously, I’m impressed. A lot of people would have given up after the first try, but you kept going. I’m proud of you.”

I turn my head to face him, the sand crunching under my hair. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I expect him to give me a warm smile, but what I get instead is a heated stare that grows stronger by the second. My heart is already beating hard from the surfing disaster, but it starts racing even faster as he leans in and presses his lips to mine. He scoots closer until his body is resting against my side, his sandy arm sliding around my waist. I kiss him back, putting my hand on his arm and angling myself so I can press into him.

We stay this way, lost in absolute bliss, until we hear a cat call coming from somewhere on the beach. We separate and quietly laugh, suddenly remembering that we’re in public. His eyes still burn into mine, still so intense. He clears his throat.

“You ready to head back?” His voice is gravelly.

“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “I have sand everywhere, and I need to shower. Why don’t you come to the cottage? We can get cleaned up, and I’ll make us something for dinner while you’re in the shower.”

He offers me a hand to help me to my feet. “Sounds great.” He tucks his board under one arm, and me under the other. We walk back in silence, covered head to toe in sand.

* * *


Tags: Megan Reinking Romance