“Now tighten your core and center your body over the board.”
The hot Oklahoma sun beats down as I will my legs to stay steady. I can do this.
“Just stand up nice and slow. Keep your eyes focused on the shore.”
I fix my gaze on the far shore, a mix of scrubby trees and red dirt rocks. And slowly, shakily, I rise to my feet. The board wobbles, but I bend my knees and find my balance.
“There you go!” He grins. “Not so bad, right?”
I bite my lip, still not quite believing I’m standing on this thing. “No, not bad.”
He paddles closer, his muscular arms propelling him through the water with ease. That thin braided bracelet slides down his wrist. I tear my gaze away from his tanned biceps before he notices my staring.
“Okay, now try paddling. Nice and slow.”
I skim my paddle along the surface, intent on staying upright. Like one of my grandpa’s newborn baby calves, all wobbly knees and elbows, I must look ridiculous. I eye Will, self-conscious, but he’s watching me with excitement and maybe pride. He nods, so I keep going, paddling once on one side of my board and then the other.
I begin to relax my tense shoulders, and once again, I’m smiling.
“See! I knew you could do it. Fun, right?”
My paddle and my own strength propel me across the top of the lake. “I hate it when you’re right.”
He snorts. “I’ll try not to gloat. Too much.”
We continue along in the deeper parts of this section until we reach the edge of the no-wake zone.
I pause and roll out my shoulders. “We better get back to work.”
Will lets out an exaggerated huff. “I hate it when you’re right.”
I start to say something snarky, but my lips part when a bright-blue speedboat closes in. It’s not heading at us, but a boat going that fast will send a wake.
“What is it?” Will turns back around. “Oh.” He grips his paddle. “Bend your knees and ride it out.”
The boat speeds to the wake zone and banks. When its engine quiets, its nose dips toward the water as it slows. Waves surge out behind it and roll in our direction.
I scramble into a seated position.
“You’ve got this. Bend your knees.” Will looks over his shoulder. As he nods his approval at my new posture, the wave swells under his board. His foot slips, and he splashes into the water.
I grip the edge of my board as it surges upward and then down again.
Will’s life jacket propels him upward, and his stunned face bobs above the surface.
“Sorry!” the boat driver yells as he rumbles past.
Will gapes in his direction, and I can’t help but laugh. The waves become ripples, and I loosen my grip and lie back on the board, giggling.
“Think that’s funny, huh?” Smiling, he swims in my direction. His board, attached to his ankle, follows along. “Will you laugh so hard if I tump you over?”
He grabs the edge of my board, and I sit up, trying to put on a serious face. “No, please. I beg you. My hair! It took an hour to straighten it this morning, and rehearsal dinner is tonight.”
He pauses, hands ready to send me over.
I grip the edge. “Please. And we’ve already been out here too long. I’ll lose another hour.”
He loosens his grip. I let out a long breath. My mouth slides into a grin, but I don’t dare voice my win lest he change his mind.
