Page 72 of Taming Waves

She immediately drops the confection, and her cheeks flush pink.

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t be embarrassed,” I say, reaching for her hand. “It’s endearing, I swear. Part of what makes you, you.”

She quickly puts her hand back and dives back in. “Are you just going to watch me, or do you want a bite?”

I open my mouth, and she tears off a piece and places it on my tongue. Before she can pull away again, I wrap my handaround her wrist and lick the white icing from her fingertips. Her breath quickens.

“There you go. All clean.”

We finish our coffees and jog back to Lennon’s house to get our vehicles. She heads to Heather’s so they can go for an actual run, and I head home to meet my mother.

v

“Wow, I’m loving these colors!” Mom exclaims as she runs her hands over the tile inlay of the shower in the guest bath.

Although it’s not quite finished, the vinyl plank flooring has been installed, the vanity is in place, and the shower has been tiled and grouted. The walls still need painting, the shower requires glass doors, and the toilet and fixtures are still in a box.

“Are you doing the same ones in the master?”

I shake my head. “No. I want something less kitschy. I was hoping you might want to help me?”

“I’d love to.”

I lead her to the kitchen table, where I arranged the paint swatches, tile and granite samples, and catalogs.

“Oh, I really like this one,” she says, picking up a navy tile shaped like a Moroccan star. “And this one too.” She pairs it with a light-gray subway tile. “They would look great with the dark flooring and the granite that has navy veins.”

“Yeah, I like that. What do you think about the wall color?” I ask.

“Hmm … I think ice blue would work. It’s more interesting than boring gray but not as stark as white.”

“Sounds good,” I agree, sliding the catalog in front of her. “Now, should I choose the oval, slipper, or square tub?”

She examines the photos for a moment. “It depends. Am I designing this space for my single son, or should I take into account what a woman might prefer?”

I pull the catalog closer and look at the page again. “I’m sorry, but are these options really gender-specific?”

She smacks my arm and grabs the book. “I just don’t remember my son using the bathtub when he was old enough to bathe himself. It seems even less likely now that he’s a six-foot-three Sasquatch.”

I chuckle. “I want to make the place female-friendly. Who knows? One day, some woman might take pity on this Sasquatch.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. I just thought maybe there was a particular woman behind this remodel.”

I reach over and close the catalog. “I can tell you’re trying to ask me something, so just spit it out.”

“I was talking to Sabel the other day at the ladies’ church luncheon, and she mentioned that Audrey had come by her house with Sebastian, Avie, and you.”

“Ah, yes, Sabel Hollister is the best way to share information in Sandcastle Cove. Telephone, tell a friend, tell a Sabel,” I muse.

“She’s an island treasure. Now, spill,” Mom demands. “Are you and Audrey a couple again?”

“I’m working on it.”

She nods and says, “Your heart has never really gotten over that one, has it, baby?”

I shake my head.

“In that case, choose the oval tub. It’s elegant, and its curves are designed to support your back, shoulders, and neck. Interestingly, it even states that it’s big enough to fit an adult woman and a Sasquatch,” she muses.

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