“Please,” Willow and her mother grumble in unison.
A small laugh escapes me because I understand why. I’ve seen Leo’s tattoos, and asked for the stories behind them. I know he was seventeen when he tattooed his wife’s nickname across his chest after knowing her less than two months—years later adding a willow tree beside it.
Perhaps it is too soon, but a flash of mischief glimmers in Leo’s eyes when they flick to mine—understanding that she’s worth it anyway.
“I got a pussy willow!” Willow exclaims, pulling her hand from mine to extend her forearm and show her parents the tattoo. “With Allie. She’s the pussy and I’m the willow.”
Leo’s mouth drops open, lip curling as he studies Willow’s arm with widened eyes. “It’s cute, Sugar, but I don’t know how I feel about my daughter repeatedly saying the wordpussy.”
“Yeah, well... you should hear Weston say it.” She winks, flashing her dimples before skipping inside the house, calling, “Is the coffee still fresh?” over her shoulder.
I stand frozen, slack-jawed and horrified. Leo flicks his gaze to me, mouth a hard line, tongue in cheek.
Darby bursts with laughter, kissing her husband’s cheek before rising off the swing. “She is your karma.”
She follows Willow inside and as the door clicks shut behind her, Leo nods for me to come closer. I think the gulp I swallow down is audible, my body radiating with nerves—I have no idea how Leo is going to react to my decision to compete yesterday, despite winning. Plus, the open knowledge that I’m fucking his only child always makes me uneasy around him.
I lean against the porch railing across from the swing he’s still sitting on.
“I hear I should be congratulating you this morning,” he rumbles, eyes fixed on the horizon.
It’s still somewhat early, the sun cresting behind us in the east, casting the Pacific in a rose-colored hue. Willow and I hardly slept, too wrapped up in each other to bother. When the sun rose and we’d still not found sleep, we decided we’d come talk to Leo this morning. There was a good chance he’d already know about the competition given his connections in the industry—and sure enough, he does.
“I’m sorry for not telling you. But to be fair, Liv and Willow corrupted me.”
“Yeah, I know.” He huffs a laugh. “I set that rule in place for your own protection, Weston. Not because I didn’t want to see you succeed.”
“I know.” I nod.
He’s quiet for a long while, simply staring at the sea. It’s not awkward silence, per se, but I can’t help feeling there is more to be said between us, and I wonder if he’s waiting for Willow to return.
To pass the time, I ask a question that’s plagued me, “Why do you call it Celestia Cove?”
A smile lifts at the corner of Leo’s mouth, but he doesn’t look at me. “I’ve been surfing in that cove since I was a kid. This house used to be owned by a sweet woman named Diane, and I’d trespass through the yard weekly to sneak down her cliffside and catch waves. Surfing felt like the thing that I was destined for, you know?” He glances at me, and I nod. “One day, I came through the back gate and met a girl I’d never seen before. Suddenly, it was as if my destiny wasn’t leading me to that cove to be a surfer—it had all been leading me to her. Fate. Kismet. Fucking... celestial.” He shrugs. “When I bought this house for her years later, when I took that cove and built a businessaround it, I wanted to name it after the feeling she gave me. That sensation ofmeant-to-be.”
Chills rush through me, I know exactly what he means. Months ago, I wouldn’t have understood it—the sentiment wouldn’t have made sense, but when Willow slips back out of the French doors with two coffee mugs in hand, an effervescent smile on her beautiful face when she passes one to me and takes a seat beside her father, I understand it perfectly.
“While I’m glad you won, and I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there, you still broke my rules this summer, Weston,” Leo says, gaze flashing to me. Trepidation trickles down my spine as he continues, “I told you not to be impulsive or reckless. You’ve repeatedly been both. I also told you to stay away from my daughter, and you went so far in the opposite direction I’m now afraid my grandkids are going to end up with your eyes someday.”
Willow’s pupils blow, face flushing as she chokes on her coffee. “Dad.”
A laugh bubbles out of me at Willow’s reaction. Embarrassment heats her cheeks, but I can only smile, because I can’t imagine anything better than creating someone who is half her too.
Leo grins at his daughter, dimples flashing.
“Plus, you were supposed to work a shift at Heathen’s yesterday and you didn’t show up. So, you’re effectively fired. I think your summer in Pacific Shores is coming to an end.”
Mortification sluices through me. I thought I’d still have at least a few weeks left of training under Leo, and I never thought it’d end with him dropping me like this. “I...”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Willow flies off the swing. “That’s bullshit. Weston has... You are...” She growls, lost for words, before stomping her foot. “That’s fucked!”
His smile spreads wider, lifting his palms in surrender. “Hold your horses, Sugar.” Turning his attention to me, he adds, “I also asked you to be focused and determined, to give me nothing less than one hundred percent. You’ve done that. You’ve proven to me that you are who you claimed to be, and luckily for you, I know someone at the Huntington Surf Academy who is looking for a new professional trainee—and a new youth teacher too.”
Willow’s entire body goes slack as my jaw drops in disbelief. She spins to me, eyes misting over as a watery smile spreads over her face.
“You start September first.” Leo laughs. “So, we’ll continue working together until then. You are actually fired from Heathen’s, though. That first-place prize money will need to get you by.”
“Huntington Beach is only twenty minutes from UC Irvine,” Willow says in an astonished breath. “Fifteen from where I’ll be living at Liv and Lou’s.”
