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“I can’t wait to see you moving across the waves.”
“Glad you believe in me,” I tell him. “You might get annoyed with my lack of skills.”
His face softens. “I’ll be as patient with you as you were with me today.”
“Dammit,” I mutter. “I’m gonna be screwed.”
He chuckles, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Just try to have fun. I’m a good teacher.”
“I’m going to hold you to it.”
Easton answers his ringing phone, which gives me time to gather my list. Today, I’m calling vendors, and I’m actually looking forward to focusing on something else.
Easton looks over my list and adds a few more tasks. I make my way to the kitchen table so I can look at the waves while I chat on the phone. I grab my cell and am immediately put on hold.
After a few hours, Easton makes me a sandwich. He brings George into the kitchen and sets him on the table for me to watch. I love this little furball more than he realizes. I take a quick break and watch him eat a treat, then get back to it.
Trying to contact people on a Sunday was somewhat silly, but worth trying. He warned me it would be annoying, but I guess I have more patience than him. Could be from years of living with a psychopath. When I look down at what I accomplished, I don’t feel like I made the best progress. But it was a step in the right direction.
Around five, Easton closes his laptop and meets me at the table.
“I was able to contact two of your sales reps. The others weren’t in the office, so I left a lot of voicemails.”
He gives me a smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. It will be a relief to get this stuff to my insurance agent.”
“I’ll try again this week,” I promise, and he thanks me again.
“I’m going out to the garage to see what boards are in there. Wanna join me?”
I nod and follow him outside. Several boards hang against the wall, and he pulls one down. Easton looks over it, then sets it on a work table that’s off to the side.
“This one will be yours,” he says, rubbing his hand across the wood. He pulls another one down for himself. “It’s gonna take a little work to get it ready, but we can do it in the morning.”
I suck in a deep breath, and he glances at me.
“I feel kinda dumb admitting this, but I’m actually nervous.”
His expression softens. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I do.”
Chapter Seven
EASTON
DAY 5
An hour before the sun rises, I’m awake and ready to hit the waves. George greets me as he takes his morning jog on the wheel. I go over to his cage and say hello, then stretch with a yawn. I warned Tatum that we’d be up bright and early, but she didn’t blink twice when I told her the time.
I’m ready to teach her everything I know and hope she loves my hobby. Yesterday, though it was hard for me to admit, I realized how damn hard yoga really is. Sure, I had my opinions, but it’s different when you try to do it. Tatum made it look easy as hell.
I go to her door and knock. To my surprise, it swings open, and she’s dressed in the rash guard and swimsuit bottoms.
“It fits perfectly,” I say, my eyes scanning over her beautiful body.
She grins. “It really does. I love how it hugs me.”
“Luckily, I can look at any person and guess their correct size. I have a ninety-five percent accuracy rate.”
She snorts, and I find it cute. “It also helped that I told you what size I wear in everything else too.”
“We won’t mention that part.” I chuckle.
We head to the garage, and I grab the supplies we need.
“I’m going to quickly scrape off this old wax and apply some new. Want to do your board?”
A smile touches her lips. “Sure.”
I move beside her and hand her the scraper, then plug in the old blow dryer I use to melt the gunk when the sun isn’t out.
“So you’ll heat the wax just a little, then use this tool to remove all of the old. Once you’re done with that, we’ll move to the next step.”
She takes the blow dryer and guides it across the board, not staying on one spot too long. After it’s soft, she starts scraping. “This is gross.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it can be. These haven’t been dewaxed in a very long time. While the beach house was being remodeled, I surfed closer to the shop.”
“You have more boards than this?” She pushes the scraper down hard and is doing an amazing job of clearing the sludge.
“Oh yeah. Too many, actually.” I start warming the wax on mine, then do the same. When her board is clean, I hand her a rag and some liquid remover to make sure it’s spotless. She meticulously wipes over it, taking her time.
