Everett slowly walked away and reminded himself it was the age. Puberty, right? He’d known it’d be rough. He needed to be patient and give Kels more space. It was probably good he was going outtonight. She’d prefer filling her time with things she wanted to do. She’d probably made friends already, even though she pretended she was miserable. He’d leave, and Kelsey would Snapchat or TikTok or whatever. They’d bond when he returned.
His guilt assuaged, he headed to his room to shower and change. These dinners were important for networking and keeping abreast on progress, but he was getting tired of the grind. Opening a hotel in a new state wasn’t easy, but he’d do whatever was necessary. His company was counting on him. Even if it meant sacrificing personal time with his daughter.
The future was the most important. He’d learned his lesson and didn’t need it repeated. The thought caused a flare of pain, though the wound was scarred over and crusty. He refused to give it any further power. Everett walked out the door and headed to his meeting.
When he got home, he sat down to watch TV with Kelsey but fell asleep on the couch before the opening credits.
In the morning, he told himself Kelsey didn’t care. He’d make it up to her later.
Chapter Three
“It’s going to be hot today. Better chill here. You can be lazy.”
Bagel didn’t agree, evidenced by his dismissal of her command. His ear swished with annoyance and his overlarge, bugged-out blue eyes stared back with an intensity that made everyone around him uncomfortable. He hopped to the door and waited.
Rowan sighed. “It’ll be a long day. I promised to help with the sunset party. You’ll hate it. Too many people.”
Silence. Bagel didn’t move and refused to break the gripping eye contact. Rowan still got thrown off by that soul-searching gaze, even though she’d adopted him over a year ago. He pushed his furry butt against the door to block it, then settled down.
“Fine! But I don’t want to deal with your drama if the air-conditioning isn’t good enough. And you have to behave or Tino won’t let me bring you anymore.”
Bagel knew it was a lie, because Tino loved his antics and called him a spirit animal. But Rowan kept a hard expression, as if she meant it. Bagel was the most stubborn creature in the world. It’d been ridiculous to think she’d be the boss in this relationship.
He refused to break the stillness. Not even a nose twitch. Damn, he’d be the perfect spy. Even torture wouldn’t break Bagel.
“Get in your crate.”
Now that he’d won the argument, the rabbit hopped over to the crate blinged out for his comfort and settled in. Rowan couldn’t helpthe smile that threatened as she grabbed a few of his snacks and the ice packs, making up a quick cooler.
Before Bagel, she’d never considered herself an animal lover. She didn’t dislike them, but had never wanted one for herself. After Dad passed, the grief had been crippling, the silent house a mockery of what had once been a dynamic, laughter-filled space. For months, she tried to push on, but a bit of her slipped away with each day that went by.
A random Facebook post from the local SPCA had gotten into her feed. Once she saw Bagel’s photo, she knew he was meant to be hers. She’d marched to the rescue center, put in her application, and taken him home the next day. The framed post was now on her wall as a reminder of riding out the times you want to give up.
Like surfing.
She buried the thought quickly. Rowan was getting better at ignoring the mess inside and keeping a clean house. It was good for survival, but her father’s whispered demands were beginning to get louder.
Don’t you dare let your mind beat you. That’s the ocean’s job.
If you don’t face the monsters, they grow bigger.
Rowan, when are you going to stop hiding from the world and your purpose?
The last one hurt the most. But she wasn’t up to losing another argument with an animal or a ghost.
The drive to the surf shop was short. Tino sat on the rickety porch, drinking from a chipped mug. He raised one hand. “Aloha.”
She smiled, waved back, and removed Bagel’s crate from her battered Jeep. “Brought your friend today.”
The older man’s creased face lit up. “Bagel! Things have been boring without you.”
Rowan grunted and walked to the porch. Crouching down, she freed Bagel, who quickly hopped over to Tino. Plastering his chin against Tino’s sneakers, he rubbed back and forth in an attempt to imprint and mark his territory. Rowan hadn’t expected such strangebehaviors from rabbits, but Bagel had opened up a whole new world of weird. She loved all of it.
Tino patted the bunny, his big hand practically swallowing up Bagel’s furry head. It was that firm gentleness that had made him the best surfboard shaper on the island. Rowan considered him family. Tall and sturdy, with a surfer’s build softened by time and long days at the planer, he was known for his expertise at fixing a cracked board, or creating one to fit a surfer’s body, style, and personality. His sun-browned skin, salt-and-pepper hair, and neat beard made him a local legend with both men and women.
Tino waved off the attention with his calloused, nicked hands. He liked the simple life, focused on his work, the ocean, and his rotating girlfriends, who never asked for more than he could give. His wardrobe was a revolving line of well-washed T-shirts spattered with tint, board shorts, and slippahs.
“What’s on the agenda today?” she asked.
