Page 25 of Fake Dating the SEAL
“Actually,” he set it back on the rack, “I was wondering why would anyone want to straddle a sliver of wood on the ocean when with a pair of goggles they could be in thewater.”
“Sliver of wood? You mean the surfboards?”
He nodded.
“Do you mean to tell me that you’ve never been surfing?”
“Nope.”
“That’s like… like visiting Italy and never eating pasta. Or going to France and avoiding wine.” Sara shook her head in amazement.
“I thought SEALs could do anything in the water, on the water, by the water, maybe even walk on water.”
One brow cocked high and he pinned her with those beautiful baby blues. “Anything, huh?”
Suddenly heat filled her cheeks as she realized that maybe she could have phrased that a little better.
“Sorry,” he took a step back, “I’m sure there are plenty of SEALs who have surfed, I’m just not one of them.”
She reached for the ornament he’d put back in place and held it up in front of him. “We have to fix this.”
“We do?”
“Absolutely. It’s un-Hawaiian not to surf. I think, sailor, it’s way past time someone got you on a surf board.”
“Someone?”
“Well, as fate would have it, pretty much anyone born and raised on these islands knows how to ride a surfboard and I am willing to stake a year’s income that teaching you how is going to be way more fun than shopping.”
Chapter Eleven
The idea of standing on a surfboard and riding a wave to the beach had never appealed to Kenny. Not till now. It had been a few days since he and Sara had gone shopping. Who knew picking out ornaments for all his friends could be so much fun. Then again, he knew the gifts had little to do with the fun day. No, his good mood had everything to do with the company.
Since their little shopping escapade, Sara had worked not only the day shift, but picked up a couple of extra evening shifts working the restrooms. Waiting for her to finally have time off so they could go back to their fake dates had been more challenging for him than he’d expected. One thing that every Navy SEAL learned early on in their career was the benefits of patience. It was right up there with observing every detail, retaining the data, and using it to stay alive. Except in this case, patience was in short supply. It surprised him just how much he was looking forward to her day off and their little surfing lesson.
Pulling up to her house, he barely had the car in park before Sara came jogging out the front door, a wide, sun-drenched smile on her face. She was already dressed for the part in board shorts and a long-sleeved rash guard, her red hair pulled back in a practical ponytail.
Driving away from the curb, Kenny caught a glimpse of the familiar twitch of curtains in the front window. “Our audience is still watching.”
“Always. Mom probably has the binoculars out by now.” Sara directed him toward a beach north of town. “We’re going to Kahalu’u. It’s perfect for learning—sandy bottom, gentle waves, and not too crowded this time of day.”
The drive took about fifteen minutes. Along the way, Kenny found himself studying the water. From his military training, he automatically assessed conditions—wind direction, wave height, current patterns. The waves looked manageable, maybe three feet at most, rolling in with steady rhythm.
“I’ve arranged to borrow a couple of boards from my cousin Kai. Park next to his truck.” Sara pointed at a simple white van with a man he presumed to be her cousin standing beside it, his hair and skin bronzed from years in the sun, his gaze on their car as they drove up. Two long, thick surfboards leaned against the van’s side. They looked less like the sleek “slivers of wood” he’d imagined and more like buoyant, foam-covered rescue craft.
They unloaded the boards—longer and wider than Kenny had expected—and Sara led him to a shaded spot under a palm tree. The beach was relatively quiet, with only a few other surfers in the water and some families scattered along the sand.
“Meet your new best friend,” Sara patted one of the boards. It was at least nine feet long. “This is a foamie. It’s stable, forgiving, and won’t knock your teeth out when it hits you in the head.”
“Reassuring,” Kenny noted dryly.
“See those waves? They’re breaking perfectly. Not too fast, not too slow.”
“Fast and slow. Got it.” Not that he had any clue what would be too fast or too slow…for water. “Do the sharks know this too?”
Her eyes narrowed making her whole face crinkle in confusion. She looked absolutely adorable, and then it hit her hewas teasing. Sort of. Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, she pointed at the sand. “This is your classroom. Rule one: respect the ocean. Rule two: it’s going to win, so learn how to fall. First lesson,” Sara laid one board flat on the sand, “we’re going to practice on land before we get wet. Lie down on the board like you’re paddling.”
Kenny felt slightly ridiculous lying on a surfboard in the sand, but he followed Sara’s instructions. He felt her hands on his ribs and hips, adjusting his position, and nearly bit his tongue trying to ignore the gentle touch against his skin.
