Epilogue
CHLOE
I can’t believe Blake talked me into wearing a bikini and to the Coogan’s Break Carnival, of all places. I’d feel naked but for the fire in his eyes whenever he looks at me.
What also helps is my having spent a lot of the past week in that exact state. The only thing that interrupted our exploration of each other’s bodies was my having to work and him out surfing, or at the Surf Shack.
Life is good. Actually, it’s beyond my wildest dreams.
I roll onto my side and look at him. He’s nervous, and with good reason. The surf is all over the place and proving a challenge, even for the pros. A couple of them have already wiped out in spectacular fashion in practice sessions.
I gently stroke his chest. “You know this beach better than any of that lot. You’ll be brilliant out there.”
I’d wish him luck, except that’s not what he needs. He’s an amazing surfer, and he grew up surfing these waves. His chances of taking out the big prize are as good as any of the sponsored surfers, if not better.
I’m about to continue my pep talk when a shadow falls across us, causing me to glance up. It’s a second before I can make out who it is, and then my stomach drops. The hatred in Sylvia’s eyes as she glares at me is enough to chill the hardiest of souls.
Already vulnerable in my new bikini, I take my hand away from Blake’s chest to reach for my shirt. Only he’s not having it. He takes hold of my hand, but rather than putting it back on his chest, he kisses my fingers, one-by-one.
He’s making such a production out of it that I guess what he’s up to. “Ooooh, babe. Not with people watching. Remember what happened yesterday.” My words are breathy, dramatic, and totally false, but the woman glaring at me doesn’t know that.
Sylvia’s screech of anguish is loud enough to draw the attention of those around us, something I’d rather have avoided. It doesn’t matter that Blake says I’m ‘hot as hell’ in my new bikini, it’ll take a while for me to believe that.
With Blake now sucking on my fingers, there’s nothing for Sylvia to do but storm off down the beach. That the spiteful woman takes vengeance on a sandcastle on her way makes what happens next all the more delicious.
She was asking for it, and Mother Nature didn’t let us down.
As a local, Sylvia knows that you don’t stomp through puddles on this beach, their hidden depths often a surprise. Sure enough, the next one she storms through proves far deeper than she’s obviously expected.
As I watch her scrambling to get back to her feet, a snort of laughter escapes. It’s one that’s shared by Blake and the kid whose sandcastle Sylvia had just demolished.
That nasty piece of work has had it coming for a long time. And really, the only thing hurt when she face-planted the beach was her pride.
I’m still chuckling when Blake stills next to me.
“Blake, you’re going to be amazing.” I move closer before whispering, “And if you surf as well as you make love, you’re a winner already.”
I then kiss him soundly, only pulling away when the cheering from those around us becomes too hard to ignore.
“Now, go win this thing!”
