Page 108 of Ripple Effect

First, we head to the house to pick up Bentley and shower, and then we drive to the Seashell together. Daisy steps inside to order some iced tea and muffins, and Bentley and I secure our favorite outdoor spot.

As we all settle in, Daisy kicks off her sandals and sticks her feet up on my lap. She takes a long sip from her drink, already talking about what competitions she plans on entering next year.

There are endless amounts of details when it comes to different locales, different waves, different heat systems. Daisy can recite them all.

As for me? I’m still lost when it comes to surfing, but I listen intently because I love hearing the passion in her voice.

When she tells me about her favorite surfer turning up at a local comp, she runs her fingers over my forearm, searching for my hand. I wince, a jolt of pain running through me.

“Careful, it’s still a bit tender,” I say.

She frowns. “What happened?”

Rolling up my sleeve, I reveal the fresh ink—a delicate daisy resting right beside the sun, nestled amongst the symbols of my family. The lines are crisp and refined. But the tattoo is still on its way to healing, and it’s a little sore to the touch.

“It’s new,” I say, taking in the way her face lights up. “Got it while you were prepping for the comp this week.”

“You got a tattoo for me?”

“Nah, pretty sure it’s for me.”

“Elio.”

“I wanted you to be here, too. You’re part of my family now. My home. Bentley already has his spot.” I point to the little broken dog bone near my wrist. “It’s only right that you’re properly represented.”

Her eyes are misty, and she leans in to place a soft kiss on my cheek. “Thank you,” she says, practically beaming with excitement. “I love it.”

I grin at her. “Anything for you.”

“When we get home,” she murmurs, looking up at me with those big brown eyes, “I can show you just how much I love it.”

I raise a brow, a smirk curling my lips. “Oh? You have a specific reward in mind?”

She tilts her head, nibbling on her lower lip. “Maybe . ..” she says, and I’m all for it. But keeping her on her toes is one of my favorite pastimes.

“Sorry, pretty girl,” I say, drawing out the words, savoring the faux disappointment on her face. “I have some ... work I need to get done.”

“Work?” Her lips pucker into a pout. But before I can tease her any further, her eyes spark with recognition. “Oh! You meanworkthat I can help with?”

She gives me an over-the-top wink, and I chuckle. “I mean, if you insist.”

“Mm, what’s the scene you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking”—I lean in, voice dropping to a husky whisper—“desperate man gets on his knees for a pretty blonde in a yellow sundress.”

Her eyes widen, cheeks flushing. “Oh, I think that’s my favorite one.” She stands up from the table, holding her hand out for me to take. “We should probably get home, then.”

“You didn’t finish your muffin.”

“Well, I’d let Bentley have it, but I don’t think it’d agree with his stomach.” She wraps it up in a napkin, stuffing it in her purse without a second thought. “There, all done.”

“Eager girl.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Not at all.”

It doesn’t take long for us to make it back to my apartment. Once we’re inside, Daisy leads me back to the bedroom, sundress flowing behind her. We leave Bentley alone with a few treats and a rerun ofDancing with the Birds.

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