“Hmm?”
“I don’t surf anymore. And I’m not giving lessons. Especially to impressionable young girls.”
His grin flashed silver from his fillings. He always did have a sweet tooth. “She needs some confidence, girl. Hard enough being that age, but around here? Fish out of water. No mom?”
Rowan shook her head. “Honestly? Her dad doesn’t sound like a prize. Works all the time and leaves her with a driver and money. Why do people have kids when they don’t even want them?”
“Maybe there’s more we can’t see. I know one thing, though. Like recognizes like. One lesson won’t hurt you, but it may give her what she needs.”
Rowan shook her head. “Not falling for it today. I’ll keep her busy, put her to work, and send her to another teacher I trust. Pamela will be perfect.”
“If Kelsey lets her.”
“She will. Now, are you done sticking your nose in everyone’s business? Or do I have to tell Gio his new board will never get done?”
Tino laughed but didn’t seem bothered. Rowan had known him for years and had never seen the man lose his temper or even get irritated. She wished she could figure out his secret. At this rate, she’d be a spinster rabbit lady by the time she was thirty-five.
Ouch.
She’d spend the day with Kelsey, get her to take lessons with Pam, and enjoy the sunset. Maybe she could even find a friend for herself. It had been a long time since she’d been with anyone, but there were always men willing to see to her needs, then happily leave in the morning. Her entire life had revolved around surfing, so relationships had never been her focus.
Now that she couldn’t surf?
She simply wasn’t interested. Sex was one thing. Love and commitment?
That was on a whole other level.
Rowan walked inside and left her thoughts behind her.
Chapter Four
Everett walked into the house and groaned in relief. He’d done it. After endless meetings, a preliminary walk-through, and a strongly worded argument with the contractor, he’d escaped on time. Barely. But the solid satisfaction of work well done settled in his chest with familiar comfort.
That was the part that still made sense. People agreed, papers moved, expectations aligned, and because he moved the right pieces, something happened the way it was supposed to. Work gave him a sense of control he didn’t have anywhere else. A grim smile touched his lips. Yeah, he was pretty much a textbook case for therapy. But action had always suited him better than talking.
Loosening his tie, he filled a glass with ice water and chugged it. “Kels! I’m home—let’s go to dinner and get ice cream tonight.” There was no answer. Probably had headphones on.
He walked down the hall, automatically raising his hand to tap the door, but it was already ajar. Peering in, he registered a messy bed, tangled towels on the floor, and a stack of books sprawled out. He did a quick check of the bathroom and the balcony, but the place was empty.
She was always home by five. He grabbed his phone and checked her last text.
At the beach. TTYL.
That was hours ago. He quickly shot out a text.
Where are u? I’m home.
Everett waited for the three dots because he had a typical teen and her phone was tattooed to her hand. A few minutes ticked by but there was nothing. Delivered but not read. He scrolled to her name and hit call. It went straight to voicemail.
His chest had already gone tight, but it wasn’t panic. Panic was for people who fell apart. He preferred to think of it as readiness. He was ready, always, to do what was necessary. Plus, this was the tech era. Kids couldn’t get away with half the stuff anymore with the tracking available.
Kels was probably walking the beach with her phone in her pocket. He brought up the app, already embarrassed he was overreacting, and zoned in on the flashing dot. The little circle pulsed at the edge of a street name he didn’t register, then settled. Hale Nalu Surf Shop, the label under it read, near a different beach. He didn’t recognize the name, but it wasn’t close to the house.
Hell, she was across town! They had a beach and pool practically in the backyard. What was she doing there?
Tamping down the irritation mingling with just a touch of fear, he got Tom on the phone.
“Aloha, Mr. Hale. Can I drive you somewhere, sir?”
