Page 62 of Lowering His Guard

And you know it feels rad!

I whip into a parking spot at Hideaway Haven Resort and squeal to a stop.

“This is where I leave you, Mer-Mini,” I tell my car. She prefers to know what I’m doing.

I hit the switch to close the top. “Sorry, girl. It’s scorching out there. No way, no how am I keeping your top down and losing the first layer of skin on the back of my thighs. Been there. Done that. Have the painful memories emblazed on a t-shirt.”

Once the top is on, I hop out of the car and skip toward the entrance. I wave to the people manning the reception desk as I continue to the beach. And nearly slam straight into Terri.

“Good morning, mistress of event planning.”

She groans. “I’m not a prostitute.”

“Nope. You’re more witch than lady of the evening.”

She scowls.

I hold up a hand. “It’s a compliment. I don’t know anyone else who can smile at a bridezilla while the bridezilla yells at her to change basically everything for her wedding.”

She sighs. “It’s my job.”

My brow wrinkles. “You’re looking a little green around the gills. Are you okay?”

She snorts. “What am I? A fish?”

I scan the area and notice a few nosy reception clerks not even bothering to hide how they’re eavesdropping. Typical smuggler behavior. I grasp her elbow and guide her to an alcove where we can’t be overseen or overheard.

“Seriously, Terri. Are you okay? You don’t look great.”

“Now, you’re making fun of how I look?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Deflect all you want. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have a surfing class to teach?”

“They can wait.”

“Even the dad you have the hots for?”

I feign clapping. “Deflecting by misdirection. I give you two points. Now, tell me what’s up before the clerks at the reception desk get out the listening devices.”

She scratches her chin. “It’s nothing. I’m just not feeling great this morning.”

“Does this have anything to do with a certain football player? A quarterback, perhaps?”

Nolan Allen, the quarterback for the Seals, has been chasing Terri like a Prohi chasing a smuggler since the day he arrived on the island. Personally, I think he caught her and they’re keeping things quiet. I have no proof, though. Just a rumor about them being seen in the restroom together.

“The same way a certain fullback has been chasing you?”

Ha! If Brock was chasing me, I’d slow down and let him catch me. I’m not stupid. Or stubborn. I’m also painfully aware of how the fullback is not chasing me. I teach his kid to surf. There’s nothing more to it. No matter how my body feels about the handsome giant.

Before I have a chance to respond, her phone beeps with a message. She reads it and groans. “Bridezilla number three is having a fit about the weather forecast. Her wedding is in a month. The weather forecast is going to change at least twenty times between now and then.”

I giggle. “You have your bridezillas numbered?”

She shows me her phone. Sure enough, the message is from Bridezilla #4.

“Go.” I push her toward her office. “Deal with your crazy clients while I ride the waves all day.”