Page 82 of Lime Tree Hill

FLIRTING WITH INDECISION

When she’d first movedto Bondi, Tayla had walked past the Icebergs Pool at least three times a week. Sometimes, she’d lean over the rail of the boardwalk, watching swimmers glide through their lengths with ease, and wonder if she’d ever have the guts to learn to swim.

It had taken two years for her to find that courage and another year before she could comfortably swim in the outside lane, closest to where the waves crashed over the pool wall. But by the time she’d left Sydney, Tayla still hadn’t ventured into the surf itself.

Mitch teaching her to surf had been a condition of their arrangement. But as the winter months slipped into spring, her board leaned against the garage wall, the bow still attached, and her wetsuit hung unused in the closet where he’d left it.

Tayla had never mentioned that condition again, and given his preoccupation with the business, she hadn’t wanted to push the point.

So when he arrived home early the following Saturday and suggested they ‘take her board for a spin,’ she wasn’t prepared.

The weather flirted with indecision: cold one minute, warm the next. And as Tayla sat in his truck, their boards strapped to the rackand wetsuits strewn across the back seat, that familiar panic held her in its tight grip.

Mitch pulled into a parking space south of Petrie Bay, where a cliff face calmed the easterly and the surf was soft and slow. As she watched the Pacific amble into the shore, she let out a sigh of relief.

He turned to look at her and reached for her hand. “Are you ready?”

Her mouth dry as she squinted against a brief flash of sunlight through the clouds, she picked up her water bottle and took a sip. “I’m kind of nervous to tell you the truth.”

“That’s understandable.” He smiled. “You think I’ll be a tough teacher?”

She took another sip. “Maybe we should go. I’m just wasting your time.”

Mitch leaned over and kissed her before tapping her on the nose. “I enjoy wasting time with you.” He opened his door. “Come on. It’s the perfect day for it.”

They donned their wetsuits without a word, then walked to the shore, their fingers entwined. Standing knee-deep in the water with her arms crossed over her chest, Tayla watched Mitch dive under. He resurfaced with a flick of his head. “Shit, it’s cold.” His hand outstretched, he waded toward her. “Come closer. I’ve got you.”

Tayla stepped forward, the sand beneath her slipping through her toes as the waves receded. He held her around the waist and walked backward, guiding her past the breakers with steady steps and calming words. By the time she stood chest-deep in the water, she didn’t know what took her breath away more. The cold water, fear, or Mitch protecting her with his body.

“You’re doing great.” He pulled her against him. “Wrap your legs around my waist. We’ll tread water through this next swell and let it flow around us. I’ll still be able to touch the bottom once it passes, so don’t worry about being out of your depth.”

She wrapped her arms around Mitch’s neck as the swell lifted him off his feet. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Breathe through it.” He moved toward the shore and set her down. “What are you afraid of? That I’ll let go?”

Tayla braced herself against a breaking wave. “No, it’s just…”

“I won’t let go until you’re ready, I promise.”

His words were a practical statement of their present situation, but Tayla couldn’t help but think of the wider picture. He wouldn’t let her go until she was ready. But would she ever be ready? Their association had a time limit; she hadn’t expected it to last beyond a few months. And yet, here they were. Dancing through the waves of the make-believe world they’d created.

“Right.” He took her hand. “Ready to go deeper?”

They’d stayed at the beach until late afternoon and arrived home tired and content, their skin polished by salt and intermittent sunshine. Tayla hadn’t put her head under, but as they’d stood in the water, her arms around his neck and their bodies close, Mitch couldn’t have been prouder of his wife.

Despite the twilight chill, they’d eaten filo-wrapped chicken parcels on the balcony while soft music and easy conversation flowed. He’d watched Tayla animated as she told a funny story with a twinkle in her eye. And at that moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to pick her up and take her to bed, to feel her lean legs wrapped around him, to lose himself in their rhythm. Because, while she’d been a virgin when they married, her new enthusiasm for him knew no bounds. And to Mitch, that was the best feeling in the world.

But first, he had some urgent work to attend to.

He looked up when Tayla knocked on his office door. She wore another satin slip, pearl white with lace trim and shameless darts pointing to her peaked nipples.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He rocked back in his chair, enjoying the sight of her. “Just running some numbers.”

“Come to bed,” she said, her voice husky, her smile full of an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

“Ask me again.” He closed the lid of his laptop.

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