Wild Child

“You do?” She tried to hide her surprise. Aging surfers didn’t exactly fit the glamorous, sexy image usually associated with the hit show.

“I’m the crusty-but-lovable owner of the surf shop where the series stars keep their boards,” Gus said. “Local color and all that.”

“All Grandpa has to do is be himself,” Drew said. He handed Sara the clipboard. “Fill out one of these forms and you’ll be signed up for the tournament.” He moved behind the counter and consulted an open spiral notebook. “Where’s Cooter?” he asked.

“Out back,” Gus said, “repairing a board.”

Drew nodded and motioned to Sara. “When you’re done with that, come out back with me and we’ll fix you up with a board.”

She returned the completed form, then followed him down a set of stairs, into a yard surrounded by high wooden privacy fencing. Except for narrow paths through the clutter, the space was crammed with rows of upright surfboards in various conditions, more life jackets, a trio of ocean kayaks and what appeared to be the back half of a ’57 Chevy.

To the left of the stairs, a tall, wiry-haired young man was melting wax over the bottom of a surfboard resting on a pair of wooden sawhorses. He looked up as they approached. “Hey dude,” he said. He nodded to Sara.

“Sara, this is Cooter. Cooter, Sara.” Drew made the introductions. “Sara needs a board.”

“Give her one of those over there.” Cooter gestured to a row of blue-and-white surfboards against the fence. “They’re super sweet.”

Drew stepped over a heap of life jackets and pulled out a board. “Find a life jacket that fits,” he called over his shoulder.

She fished out a bright green jacket and followed him to a gate that gave access onto the beach. “Tell me about Gus,” she said. “You said yesterday he’d had a heart attack?”

“Two.” He held the gate open for her. “He was running the Surf Shack pretty much by himself and it was too much for him.”

“So you stepped in to help.”

He followed her along the side of the building. “My parents used to run it with him when I was a kid, but they retired to Arizona a few years ago and ended up opening a rock shop there.” He shook his head. “They couldn’t stand not working, but now they’re so involved with that business, they couldn’t leave it to help Grandpa.”

“He’s lucky to have you, then.”

“It beats sitting behind a desk in an insurance office, which is what I was doing before.”

“Still, it’s a lot of responsibility.” Not to mention how much he must worry about his grandfather.

He shrugged. “I try not to let it cramp my style.” The smile he flashed made her feel a little light-headed. The word devastating came to mind. She hoped she wasn’t out of her league here. After all, she hadn’t had much practice at this relationship stuff.

When they reached the front of the building, he handed her the board and went to retrieve his own. “Do you have plenty of sunblock?” he asked when he joined her again.

“I do.” Ellie had lectured them all on the danger of skin cancer. Her own goth-white skin testified to her devotion to SPF.

She left her beach bag in Gus’s care, then headed down the shore with Drew. The sand was already strewn with beach chairs and vacationers sunning themselves on towels or reclining beneath umbrellas. Children splashed in the shallows while older teens and adults floated on the waves farther out. The smells of coconut suntan oil and salty seawater mingled with the polished-floor scent of the surfboards they carried.

“What beach did you hang out at when you were a kid?” Drew asked. “Was it this one?”

“Not usually. Most of the time I hung out at County Line Beach.” In those days there hadn’t been much at County Line but a few portable toilets and lots of surfers. It was the perfect place for anyone looking to get away from parents, school or too many rules. The perfect place for a kid to get into trouble, and Sara had found her share of that. She skipped school so much she almost failed her junior year of high school. She smoked pot, drank beer and wasn’t above stealing snacks and small items from local stores on her way to the beach. The people she hung out with then were just like her—rebels and dropouts who were truly at home only on the beach.

She wondered if things had changed much at her old hang-out. She hadn’t been back in years.

“Good surfing there,” Drew said. “Good diving at the kelp beds, too.”

“Mostly I just hung out,” she said. “Worked on my tan and watched the surfers.” The guys and gals who rode the waves on longboards had represented the ultimate freedom to her. They were popular, tanned and at home in their environment in a way she—an awkward, fatherless teen who’d moved halfway across the country to a city where she knew no one—found difficult.

“Now you’re going to be one of those surfers.”

They walked past the crowds to an area of the shore that was almost deserted at this hour. “This is a good place to put in.” Drew stopped and planted the tail of his board in the sand. “You want to start out with some small waves—stuff you won’t even think worth surfing later.”

She squinted out at the waves. They didn’t look very large from here, but her stomach still fluttered with nervousness at the idea of trying to ride them. “I guess that’s why no one else is here,” she said.

“That’s good. You want to avoid crowds. Plus, surfers get ticked off at beginners who get in their way.”

“I think that’s why I never learned before,” she said. “I didn’t want to be one of those people my heroes always complained about.”

He laughed. “I’ve been one of those guys complaining myself, but I won’t give you any grief today. We’ll take it slow and before you know it, you’ll be riding a wave. I promise.”

She nodded, though she had her doubts. Still, she would never learn if she didn’t try. This vacation was all about breaking out of old patterns and trying new things. “Okay. Where do we start?”

“First, we’re going to do some push-ups.”

“Push-ups?” She frowned at him. “You’re going to make me work out before we get in the water?”

“We just need to practice a few moves that you’ll use out there and it’s easier to start on land.”

She was still skeptical. “Push-ups?”

“Sort of. Watch me.” He lay on his stomach in the sand. Dressed only in baggy Hawaiian print shorts, his body was brown and muscular, his legs long, dusted with golden hairs. Sara felt a tickle of desire in her midsection, and had a fleeting image of her lying in the sand beside him, rolling into his arms.

In one swift movement, he levered himself into a push-up, then sprang to a crouch, one foot in front of the other. He lifted his arms and balanced there, swaying slightly like a surfer adjusting his stance to the waves. He looked up at her and grinned. “Think you can do that?”

“Sure.” She lay in the sand, trying to recall exactly what he’d done. She wasn’t a gym rat, but she took the occasional yoga class and walked a lot around her neighborhood. That counted for exercise, didn’t it?

“Now imagine you’re on your board,” Drew said. “A wave is coming. Jump up and ride it.”

Hoisting her body into a push-up was no problem, but jumping into a crouch from there was more difficult than it had appeared. She wobbled into position, arms out, sand sticking to her chest and stomach.

“You need to move faster,” Drew said. “Remember, that wave’s coming and you have to get on your feet.”

She tried again. “How’s that?”

“Your feet need to be farther apart. The front foot should be near the middle of the board, sort of centered under your body, and the back foot should be toward the tail.”

She tried again, and again, until she was panting and sweating. She looked up at Drew through a fringe of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “How’s that?”

He nodded. “Better. You’ll want to practice more on your own.” He extended his hand and she took it. He pulled her to her feet and began brushing sand from her stomach and sides.

His hands were warm, and the contact made her warmer still. When his fingers grazed her breast a tremor shuddered through her and she swayed a little. He stilled and their eyes met, his gaze heated and intense. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry.” She wet her lips, hoping he’d kiss her. Her mouth tingled in anticipation of his touch. Who cared about surfing? There were better things to do on a deserted section of beach.

But he looked away, and the moment passed. “I think we’re ready to get in the water. First, attach your leash. That will keep you from losing your board when you fall off.”