“We’re making a detour.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “If you’re taking me out to a field somewhere to murder me, you should know that my aunt and uncle will worry if I’m not there in time.”
“You will be.”
“And not in pieces.”
He bit back a smile. “I promise to be a gentleman.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted out a laugh.
Jack’s Surf Shop was just off Seaside Avenue, a shack that had looked like it was about to fall down for the last twenty years. It had started life as an old mobile home turned convenience store, but in the years that followed, the owner had added driftwood and old boards to the sides, so now it looked like it had been cobbled together over the generations. And in a way, Will supposed it had.
He parked his truck out front and was about to get out when Lizzy spoke. “Where are we?”
Will paused. “The sign is right there.”
“Right, butwhyare we here?”
“Why do you think?”
She rolled her eyes again, and Will could see the reply already forming in her mind. He was almost looking forward to it. But then a shiver went down the length of her spine and he remembered why they were here.
“The sooner we’re in, the sooner you’re back to your aunt and uncle, and the sooner you can leave for lunch,” he said before she could answer.
She seemed to consider, then turned and opened the car door, stepping out and slamming it shut behind her. He shook his head, biting back his grin, and followed.
Inside, the shop was as chaotic as the exterior promised it would be. Merchandise—colorful bikinis and towels and boards and wetsuits—hung from every available space, while faded photos of customers filled in the gaps. The place still smelled like it had when Will was a child, a distinct blend of coconuts from an array of sunscreens mixed with the slight tinge of neoprene.
Lizzy came to stand next to him, staring up at the layers of items surrounding them. He couldn’t help but watch her from the corner of his eye as she surveyed the room. Her large, dark eyes divided by the delicate slope of her nose. Her flushed cheeks, full lips…
“Darcy!”
The sound of his name broke through the Beach Boys playing overhead. Will turned just as Ray Foglia emerged from the back, smiling and holding out his hand. “What’s up, man? Forget something yesterday?”
Will shook his hand and smiled. “No, I’m all set. But my friend needs some help with her wetsuit.”
He nodded to Lizzy. She was staring up at him and seemed dumbstruck for a moment but recovered quickly, turning to Ray. “I think he’s talking about this,” she said, motioning to the rip along her thigh.
“Oh, that’s a good one.” Ray turned to Lizzy and winked. “But definitely not the worst we’ve seen. You’ll have to try harder next time.”
Her apprehension seemed to melt away and she smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
“Glad to hear it.” Ray nodded down to her wetsuit and then started toward the back again. “Let me borrow that for a few minutes and we’ll have you on your way.”
Lizzy’s smile fell. “Oh. Right. Okay.”
Her cheeks were already pink, but somehow reddened even more as she looked around for… what exactly, Will wasn’t sure. A dressing room, an escape?
Then Will realized the problem. She might not be wearing anything underneath.Shit.
“We can come back another time,” he said, low enough so only she could hear.
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll just take this off and he can patch it, right? Easy peasy. No problemo.” She forced out a laugh that was probably meant to sound nonchalant, but only added to the tension.
When her hand went around her back, flailing for the line connected to her zipper, he discreetly turned away. A few minutes later, he heard her throw the wetsuit over the counter to Ray. “Here you go.”
“Give me five and you’ll be good to go,” he said, and disappeared into the back room.
