Page 61 of Resorting to Romance

“Man. You’re awfully young to be so powerful, but I’m not arguing with the boss of the boss of me.” Ben smiles at Noah. “I’m at your service.”

Ben bows as if he’s approaching the king, and Noah’s peals of laughter fill the shop.

“I’ll see you at the end of my lesson, worker,” Noah says to Ben as we walk out to grab his wetsuit from the rental rack.

Ben’s laughter follows us out the door.

“Tell him to get busy tagging merchandise,” I say to Noah.

Noah repeats my instructions, shouting them in a commanding voice into the shop, and Ben cackles.

“Oh, man! Don’t listen to Kai, Noah. He’s a bad influence!”

I get Noah suited up and he and I walk toward the waves with Mila strolling alongside us. I already put the boards out on the sand earlier this morning.

We’re in the water for about forty minutes, Noah picking up right where he left off. Ben comes paddling out just as we promised, and I take a wave in once I know Ben’s got Noah.

When I hit the shore, I shake the water out of my hair and pull my board up onto the sand. Then I join Mila where she’s got a blanket spread out just beyond the edge of the shorepound. Shaka’s on one side of her, laying on the blanket like he owns the whole beach.

“He did great,” I tell her.

“I’m so grateful to you for teaching him. It’s his dream, and I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the one.”

She pats the blanket. “Want to sit?”

“I’m soaked. I’ll get your blanket all wet.”

“That’s what beach blankets are for. Come on. Have a seat.”

I nod and settle in beside her. Shaka stands up and comes to my side.

I give him a gentle nudge trying to coax him into going backto Mila’s side, but he ignores me and lays down right next to me, half on the blanket, half in the sand.

“That’s going to mean a shower for you,” I tell him. “Wet dirty dogs don’t get in my bed.”

“Your bed, huh?”

“Don’t ask.”

Mila smiles warmly, but to her credit, she doesn’t push the subject like Ben does. Then she digs into her bag and pulls out a granola bar and a juice box.

“Here. Have a snack.”

I chuckle. How many years has it been since I had a juice box?

“Thanks. I’m not taking Noah’s food, am I?”

“I’ve got plenty.”

I open the wrapper and pop the straw in the juice, and we both fix our eyes on the waves where Ben and Noah are taking ride after ride, settling on their boards next to one another between sets. From here, they look like two black wooden bobs in the water, but we can tell it’s them. One taller than the other, their faces turned in so they can talk while they wait for the next wave.

The silence between me and Mila is comfortable. She puts me at ease. Always has.

I’m watching Noah get up on a bigger wave than any he’s taken so far when a voice behind me asks, “Is that Noah?”

EIGHTEEN

Kai

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