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The dentist—Ryan—had straightened and smiled widely as Quinn pulled up beside his—she checked—yes, his bright-red Tesla SUV. She’d have known it was him even without the paddleboards. He looked like a dentist. A successful dentist. Or possibly an orthodontist. Who went to the gym three times a week.
She didn’t quite trust that smile. She thought,I wonder how much you charge, and if you cheated on your wife.Then she remembered that she was supposed to be open-minded. She should at least give him a chance.
At first, it didn’t look like he’d eventakethe chance. In fact, when she climbed out of the car and walked over to join him beside one inflated and one limp-rag paddleboard, she got a hastily-wiped-away look that she was pretty sure was disappointment.
If you want to do something outdoorsy and wet, dude,she thought,I’m going to be showing up in sweats so I don’t freeze. What, you thought I’d drive up in my flower-print bikini and lace coverup? It’s September.
When she tookoffthe sweats, things got a little more complicated. First, there was disappointment at her cup size. Meaning that he didn’t stare at her breasts. When she took off the bottoms, though, he got more interested, and when she crouched down to stuff her sweats into her beach bag—yes, he stared.
“You’re right,” she told him. “This is indeed my body, and that’s yours. That was the point of meeting out here in swimsuits, right? Now we know. Here, let me pump this one up.”
He resisted her grab for the pump, and she said, “Or not. Go for it.”
He said, “You’re either a little hostile, or challenging in a good way. I’m deciding it’s ‘challenging.’” With a smile, of course. “And you’re right. Now we know, and I for one am pumped. So to speak. And hi. I’m Ryan. I spend my days in other people’s mouths.”
He put out a hand, and she shook it and reminded herself again,Open-minded.He hadn’t actually said anything wrong, had he? And his body wasn’t bad—gym-built, which was what most men had—except that his hair was too perfect, and he waxed his chest. Swimmers waxed or shaved their entire bodies for less water resistance, men as well as women, so she shouldn’t have a prejudice like that, but—there you were. Her dad, like most Montana men of a certain age, had a beard, but when she was growing up, he’d shaved every day. Watching the razor stroke through white foam had been her idea of what a man did, and the hair on his chest while he did it had been her idea of how a man looked. Men had more hair than women. It was a secondary sex characteristic. If men liked large breasts, it made sense that women might like facial and body hair, right?
She wouldn’t run that one past Martin. She could just imagine his horror.
Ryan picked up the paddles, possibly flexing more than he needed to, and handed one to her. “Here’s how you adjust it,” he told her, “and to know how much to adjust it—here, put your hand on top like this.” Which was all fine. He was enjoying teaching, that was all.
“Is this how you teach kids to take care of their braces?” she asked, flipping the lock closed on the paddle. “Because I’m getting ‘orthodontist’ here.”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “That’s my job. And I’m glad you didn’t pad anything,” he decided to add. “Truth in advertising always looks more confident. A take-charge lady, Martin said. A challenge, in other words. You could say—a worthy opponent.”
She didn’t know what to do with that, except to say that his idea of a relationship sounded tiring, so she did nothing. And when he said, “Here. Let me show you how to get on,” she didnotsay, “I think I can manage. My grandma could balance on this thing. You kneel on it, and then you stand up. I watched a video.”
She also didn’t say, “You’re so good at this!” She never thought of those man-flattering things to say in time, and once she did, she never wanted to say them. What she actually said was, “You didn’t bring PFDs?”
He smiled. “You don’t really need one near the shore. Barely any wind, flat lake? It’s overkill.”
“That’s the law, though. Never mind, I have one in my truck.” She went and got it.
“This must be the ‘judge’ thing,” he said. “Obeying the law. I’m trying to find a way that it’s hot.”
“It’s more of a ‘raised by outdoorspeople’ thing,” she said, zipping the life vest up and fastening the buckles. “Which means, don’t assume conditions will stay the same, and be prepared for the worst. My parents own Montana Outfitters.”
“Oh,” he said. “That’s your family? That’s quite a store.” And clearly reassessed her.
Judges didn’t make orthodontist money, but she didn’t need orthodontist money. Not because of her parents. Because of her choices.
“It’s a great store,” she said. “OK, show me how to do this.” Where was the line between “mankiller” and “reasonably competent woman who doesn’t have to dissemble?” She had no idea. So she let him show her in excruciating detail how to carry the board, when to put it in the water, how to climb up onto it, and how to paddle it, and tried extremely hard not to say, “It’s all in the video, dude.” It was a lesson. Lessons were never bad, and an ego that couldn’t bear to learn a lesson was an ego that held you back. And so forth.
Finally, after a good ten minutes of this, during which she longed to dig in with her paddle andgo,so she could enjoy herself and push herself and actually get better, he said, “One last thing. You’ll fall today. I’m surprised you haven’t already. Don’t worry about it when it happens, just try to fall away from the board so you don’t smack into it, and then I’ll coach you through getting back on. You’re wearing a leash, so you won’t lose your board, but try to keep hold of your paddle, or at least to grab it quickly. Right now, though, I’ll demonstrate how to stand up and also how to kneel down again, but don’t try it yet. Watch me a couple of times first.”
It’s fine,she told herself through teeth that insisted on clenching. She wanted to say,Have you failed to notice that I haven’t needed quite so many pointers?,but she did not. That “ego” thing again. Men were fragile.
“All right,” he said, once he’d demonstrated—yes, standing up and kneeling down again. Three times. “Now try it. Slowly. No, more slowly than that. You’ve got the paddle down across your board. That’s good. You’ve got some weight on your hands there. No, don’t go so fast. Wait!Nowbring one foot forward—straightforward. And remember—”
She’d had enough. There was being a mankiller, and then there was stabbing herself in the eye with a fork until she bled. She stood up and started to paddle.
“Oh,” Ryan said. “That’s good. Don’t go so far out, though. Slow down. And we should really have you practice falling off if you’re going to be cocky like that.” With another smile, she was sure, though she wasn’t looking.
She glanced around at him. He said, “Let me explain what to do if you feel yourself starting to fall,” and she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She launched herself off the board—falling flat, which was clearly the correct approach, because you never wanted to plunge deep into unknown waters—and making sure she cleared the board, since she also didn’t want massive bruising. She went in slow and fast at the same time, the way those things always happened, and came up cold-water-shocked and smiling. The force of her fall had shot the board forward, and she swam for it, pleasantly buoyed by her PFD and feeling the reassuring tug of the leash on her ankle and the weight of the paddle in her hand. Feeling challenged. Feeling alive.
Ryan was shouting something behind her, but she paid no attention. She’d been kayaking plenty of times. It had to be the same, except easier, because you didn’t have to flip the kayak or even haul yourself far up out of the water.
Yep. Put the paddle across the board to steady you, grab the handle in the middle of the board with one hand, grab the far edge with the other, kick yourself up, and end up on your knees. Now to your feet, and get the paddle in the water fast. And there you were.
