Page 137 of Beyond the Stroke

“And for you?”

“Good morning, Justin. How are you today?” I ask.

“Um, good.” He smiles nervously. “It’s my first day, so I’m trying not to mess shit up, you know?”

I give him a supportive nod. “You’re doing great. I’m Rory. This is my wife, Summer.”

He nods to Summer. “Nice to meet you.”

“Are you new to Coral Cove?” I ask.

“Yeah, I just moved here with my boyfriend. He loves to surf and I’m along for the ride.”

“That’s cool. I come here a lot after practice, so you’ll be seeing us regularly.”

“Practice? What sport do you play?” Justin asks.

“I’m a swimmer. I train with the Carolina Current.”

Justin nods, not certain what to make of that, I guess.

“He’s being modest. He’s the most decorated Olympic swimmer of all time,” Summer says. Whether Justin is impressed or not, the fact that Summer’s words are full of pride makes me smile.

“No shit? That’s awesome.”

Justin reaches out his hand for me to give him a high-five.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, yeah. Can I get your order?”

“Yes, I’ll have the three-egg scramble with turkey sausage and bacon, hash browns, and whole wheat toast. Also, a short stack of banana walnut pancakes with peanut butter on the side.” I pause to consider my drink choices. “A black coffee and a chocolate milk.”

“That’s a lot of food.”

“He’s a hungry man,” Summer responds, sipping her water.

“I’ll get that out as soon as I can. As soon as the kitchen cooks it.”

“Thank you.” I nod and Summer bites her lip, trying not to smile. “What? I’ve got to get in good with the wait staff. They’re the gatekeepers between me and food.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet you married me.”

“Oh, right. That. Complete lapse of judgment.”

“Even after last night?” I smirk, before leaning in to whisper, “I can still taste you on my tongue.”

Summer’s eyes widen. “Oh look, it’s shady over there now.”

She eyes the other side of the table and moves to stand, but I easily pull her back down next to me.

“Please stay. I like you here.”

Her lips twitch but she stays seated and takes another drink of water. I slug mine back in two swallows, then roll my shoulders down my back, releasing a low groan as my aching muscles protest.

“You said practice was brutal. Why?” she asks.

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