Page 38 of The Lyrics of Love

The paddles had been floating next to them in the water. She retrieved them and he took his carefully.

“Hold the blade so it’s angled forward from the shaft, toward the nose of your board. If you’re paddling on the right side of the board, put your left hand on the T-grip and your right hand a few feet down on the shaft. On the left side, you’ll reverse those hand positions. Let me see you try that. Don’t paddle. Just hold the paddle.”

He did so, again earning praise from her.

“You’re picking up things really quickly, Nash. As far as falling, always get back on your board before going for your paddle. You can lean and paddle with your hands on each side until you reach it.”

They practiced that, with Rylie tossing his paddle several feet and him moving toward it.

“All right. I think we’re ready to learn some strokes. Let’s talk how to move forward and backward.”

Rylie was a patient teacher, explaining things carefully and simply to him. Nash spent half an hour practicing each kind of stroke, getting comfortable with it and the feel of the board beneath him as the water gently moved. He learned if he kept his paddle vertical, he would move in a straight line, and how to alternate strokes. She liked taking three strokes on each side, while he felt good doing four of each before switching.

Reverse strokes were a little more complicated because they were used for slowing down, stopping, and then turning. They literally were the opposite of a forward stroke, though, and he was quickly able to capture how to do it.

“Let’s paddle toward the center of the lake,” she said. “You’ve got the confidence to do so.”

She had been right in telling him he couldn’t think of anything else while on his board. He constantly adjusted his weight with his hips as the water lapped and moved his board. Still, it was liberating to be out on the water. Sure, he fell a few times, but was able to go through the steps she had taught him to retrieve his paddle. She told him he would most likely only use the leash he had bought if he ever SUP-ed in the ocean.

“Okay, final stroke of the basic three,” she said. “It’s called the sweep stroke because it helps turn your board if you’re moving or even standing still.”

Rylie taught him how to sweep if he were paddling on his right side, rotating his shoulders so the right came forward, and how to plant his paddle in the water, making sure the entire blade was submerged before he swept the paddle away from the board in an arcing motion which went from the nose of the board all the way to its tail. He leveraged his legs and hips while doing the motion.

They practiced sweeping on both sides, and suddenly Nash realized he was exhausted. His muscles burned and his limbs felt weak.

“Boy, this is a tough workout.”

“I told you so. It’s the only reason I’m able to eat so many of Ainsley’s sweet treats. You burn a ton of calories on the water. Even more in the ocean.”

He laughed, his board rocking some, and he had to really concentrate not to spill from it. “I cannot imagine attempting this with waves coming at you. That’s insane.”

“I SUP-ed for a few years before I ever ventured into the Pacific. And you’re right, it’s a huge challenge. But I love it now.”

“I’d love to come watch you do it sometime.”

“Sure. If you can get out of bed that early,” she teased.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been awake and up very early since I arrived in the Cove.”

“I told you that it’s an early-to-rise and early-to-bed town.”

“You were also right about me keeping decent, consistent hours. I think I’ll be productive doing so.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You did well today, Nash. You caught on quickly. You have great balance. I know you must be exhausted. Let’s head in.”

They moved toward the shore. He alternated strokes on each side to keep heading in as straight a line as possible. He only fell once on the way back, quickly mounting his board again and getting into a groove.

When they reached shallow water, he jumped into the water and walked on shaky legs. It reminded him of the one time he’d gone to a roller rink, and how the sensation of still being on skates stayed with him after he had taken them off. He still felt as if he were on the water.

“Let’s head back to the car,” Rylie suggested. “I’ve got beach towels for us to dry off, and we can leave the equipment there.”

She opened the tailgate to her SUV while he removed his PFD and T-shirt, grateful that she had told him to bring another one to wear afterward. The water had been chilly, and the slight breeze now caused goosebumps to rise over his entire body. Nash took one of the towels and wrapped up in it for a moment before he began to vigorously dry himself.

Rylie attached their boards to the roof of her vehicle and peeled away her shirt, as well. The one-piece swimsuit wasn’t revealing—and yet he found she tantalized him all the same. Nash was dying to see what was under it.

For now? He would be satisfied with the kiss he’d longed to share with her.

She turned and he slipped his arms around her, bringing her close.

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