Page 3 of Make Me Unwind

I huff and march to the board. “What do I do?”

For several minutes, he instructed me on how to climb onto the board, shift to a standing position, and balance my weight. Then, he showed me how to put on the safety cuff and how to hold the paddle properly.

“What do I do if a wave comes at me?”

“If a wave is coming at you, you turn sideways in a typical surfing position.”

“I’ve never gone surfing before.” The breeze slaps against my face. Damp salt with a hint of tang. I inhaled the scent, taking it deep into my lungs. “Can you describe the surfing position?”

I hate admitting another thing I don’t know how to do, but I’d rather look like a fool in front of him than faceplant into the water.

“You put one foot in front of the other, like this.” As he describes what to do, he mimics the positions and waits until I mirror his movements before moving to his next instruction. I listen with more interest than I intend. The man is thorough with his instructions and the ease of his movements is fascinating.

Broad shoulders. Strong arms. Long fingers. Neatly groomed fingernails. But it’s the veins on the backs of his hands, leading up to his forearms, that keep my brain spinning. Those hands and arms are deadly weapons at least to the female population. He should be a model.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?” My focus snaps back as heat floods my cheeks. Dear lord, please let the midday sun be so bright that he can’t tell I look like a cherry red tomato from gawking at him like he’s a piece of strawberry shortcake on a Sunday afternoon.

“Strip down to your suit, and let’s try this.” He unties the arms around his waist and shoves his hand into the wetsuit.

“No!” My voice is sharp to my ears as a man and his son stop several yards down the beach from us. The boy, who’s no more than eight years old, holds a seashell.

“No, you don’t want to try?” He can’t hide his irritation at this point. He’s not the kind of guy who looks like he enjoys wasting time.

“No….” I clear my throat. “I mean, I don’t want to do this, but I will to make my brother happy. However, I’ll wear what I have on, thank you.” I stride past him, not caring if he thinks I’m crazy to go out there in leggings and a T-shirt and grasp the paddleboard as he instructed.

But even his sexy as sin high cheekbones and full mouth aren’t going to convince me to drop my pants and show him my scars.

Chapter Two

Asher – The Next Day

As I walk to the main resort from my parent’s house, I cringe over the ache in my leg. It’ll rain soon. Today. Tomorrow at the latest. I never knew what people were talking about when they said they could feel the weather change in their bones, until now. One year, eight months, and ten days later, I understand. The pain is an ache that nothing takes away. And it doesn’t matter if it’s rain or snow. Hell, even a temperature change can bring it on at times.

Right now, the sky is clear, and any pending clouds are off in the distance beyond what the eye can see. The back of the resort is filled with kids’ activities–a waterpark, a mini golf course, and a large family swimming pool.

The resort’s kid-friendly environment is one of the largest attention getters for potential guests, so the grounds are teaming with children running in all different directions, with their parents or grandparents following behind them at a much slower pace.

If we were larger or in a city, they’d move faster, but here, there’s a sense of safety that surrounds our slice of heaven. The entire Lowcountry feels the same way. To me? It feels…. Hell, everything feels lacking. Like the spark has been snuffed out inside of me.

A dark-haired woman darts behind a little girl with matching hair and a boy around two on her hip. Her gait is slightly off, but that could be because of the people she’s trying to avoid. The boy has soft black curls and chubby arms and legs.

Piper. I frown. Surely, those aren’t her kids. She’s too young to be a mother.

Like yesterday, she’s wearing leggings, but today, she has on a black sports bra to better fit the theme of the waterpark. Her ponytail swings with each step as she grasps the little girl from behind, leans down, and kisses the top of her head.

We didn’t talk much outside of our initial barbs, so I know nothing about her other than her name is Piper. She didn’t want to learn to paddleboard, and she’s a quick learner, leaving little doubt that she was an athlete growing up.

The girl spins on her heel, grabs the woman’s hand, and drags her behind her. At this speed, the slight limp becomes more pronounced.

Hopefully, she didn’t injure herself yesterday. I don’t want to work for my brother, but I’m not dick enough to wish one of his paying guests was injured, especially not at my hand.

My phone rings, dragging my attention away from Piper and back to reality. Cade Hughes. My muscles tighten, causing the ache in my leg to scream.

“Hello?” I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, out of everyone’s way, and let the afternoon sun pour down on my shoulders.

“Hey, Asher.” Cade’s voice is strained but chipper. “How’re things going?”

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