He raised an eyebrow. She’d lost him. It was a common occurrence. “Now you can teach me how to surf,” she said, and crossed her arms, her expression smug. “Every day.”
He didn’t roll his eyes, although he wanted to. “Sure.”
“How’s tomorrow?” she said eagerly.
He sighed. “You’re like the Terminator, you know that?” He thought about it. “I’d like to pack up the rest of my things. And I know you’ve got to work. How about Friday, after I finish moving my stuff? We’ll need to get you outfitted first, anyway.” He saw her look of protest, and frowned. “You’re not going straight out on the water anyway, Allison, so don’t even start.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “But after Friday, every day, right?”
He nodded. Then, even though he was courting disaster, stood up and held out his hand.
She stood up, too, looking at his outstretched palm with what seemed like hesitancy, which wasn’t like her. Then she shook his hand.
There it was again...that awareness. He stared at her, watching her eyes go low-lidded.
She stepped a little closer.
So did he.
That, of course, was when Mrs. Tilson came back with the keys. “Here you are, Mr. Gilroy...” she said.
He and Allison released their grip, jumping apart like an exploding grenade. “Um, thanks,” he said, feeling his heart race.
Her eyes narrowed as she dropped the keys into his hand. “Just for the record,” she said, “I’ll be watching you.”
He swallowed hard, then nodded.
Considering how he reacted whenever he and Allison touched, that might not be a bad idea.
Speaking of bad ideas, he thought as he pocketed the keys... being in close proximity with Allison every single day might be one of the worst ideas on record.
CHAPTER FOUR
“FOR A GUY who doesn’t believe in being bogged down by material possessions,” Gabe said, huffing underneath a dresser, “you sure have a lot of crap.”
“Shut up and lift,” Sean said from the other end of the heavy piece of furniture. “I want to get this stuff moved in by this weekend, and this is most of it. And besides, I’ve lived over the surf shop for sixteen years.”
He and his sister, Janie, had moved in when he was fifteen years old and Janie was twelve—he grimaced a little, remembering just how tight a fit that had been, in the very bare one- bedroom.
“Sixteen years,” he repeated, feeling a pang of melancholy mixed with frustration. He probably should’ve moved when Janie went off to college. She lived in a cute house of her own now, with her husband and two young kids. But he hadn’t moved. Granted, it was a lot easier with just him rattling around in the unfinished apartment, and he loved being steps away from the surf. He would miss that.
Things changed, he supposed with a pang. It was high time he changed with them.
The two of them maneuvered the hardwood dresser into his new apartment. Sean took another look around. It wasn’t huge, but his old apartment had only been bigger because it was missing a few key walls and opened up into the overhead storage. This was much more posh. He took a deep breath. It smelled like fresh paint. Mrs. Tilson, for all her fierceness, obviously wanted to make a good impression. Sean chuckled at the thought.
“I wouldn’t laugh yet,” Gabe warned, sounding a little winded. “You’ve got, like, twenty-five boxes of stuff still in the truck.”
‘Twenty-four,” Ryan corrected, bringing one in with a huff. He was sweating profusely. “And exactly when did you get this whole fascination with books? Heavy books?” He dropped the box down on the floor with a thud and looked at Mike.
Sean wiped his own forehead with the back of his hand. “I read,” he said, with a shrug.
Ryan surveyed the place, nodding slightly at the view out the window. “Wow. This is pretty great, actually. How did you find out about it, again?”
“Friend of mine,” Sean replied, hedging. He popped back out the door, heading for the rental truck.
Ryan and Gabe followed him as Mike handed him a box. “We’re your friends,” Ryan pointed out with the slight laugh in his voice that signaled mischief. “Who, exactly?”
“A new acquaintance,” Sean said. He hoisted the box on his shoulder, turned, and saw his trio of friends staring at him, their arms crossed. “What?”
“Guy or girl?” Ryan asked immediately.
“What do you think?” Sean sighed. “If you must know, a new surf student of mine hooked me up with this place. Mrs. Tilson, my landlady, is a godmother or something.”
“Didn’t know you were still giving surf lessons,” Gabe said, his tone reflective as they all carried more boxes up the stairs to the in-law unit. “How long has that been going on?”
“Haven’t even started yet. Getting me a place was part of the condition of teaching, actually,” Sean said.
“Man, did you come out ahead on that deal,” Ryan said with a low whistle.
Sean thought of Allison...of the heat he’d felt just by holding her hand. “Not really,” he said with feeling.
“What, are you kidding? What’s the big deal? You’re, like, the best surf coach in the South Bay,” Mike said, sounding puzzled.
Sean sighed, “Yeah, but this student wants to learn how to surf in six weeks, now five.” That had them all laughing, and Sean grimaced. “I know. Pretty nuts. But at least I got an apartment out of it.”
Another trip to the truck, and Sean hoped that was the end of the discussion, but Gabe obviously wasn’t finished. “How’s it going at Tubes, by the way?”
Sean didn’t answer immediately, focusing on huffing and puffing his queen-size mattress up the stairs. When he got to the room, Gabe was looking at him, concerned. “Not so well,” Sean admitted...and was surprised when Gabe nodded. “You knew? Who told you?”
“I keep tabs on the neighborhood,” Gabe answered. “A couple of business owners are circling around, wanting to buy the building. If nothing else, a few stores would love to move in.”
Sean growled. He could just imagine some upscale clothing store or high-end gardening-supply store taking up the spot. Imagining was disturbing enough. “That bad, huh?”
Gabe shrugged. “Do you know what Oz’s plan is?”
“As far as I know, he doesn’t have one,” Sean said dourly.
“I’ll bet that Oz is under a lot of pressure. The local chamber of commerce has been complaining that Tubes is run-down, ruining the look of the street. And as far as the business side...” Gabe let his sentence run off meaningfully.
Sean leaned against the wall behind him. Hadn’t he told Oz that they ought to repaint? Only one of a million suggestions that he’d made that Oz had ignored. Well, he’d make his suggestions even louder now. It was sink or swim, and the thought of the surf shop sinking was frankly unthinkable.
“Oz said that if sales turn around, he’ll do more,” Sean said, his voice grim. “So I was going to see what I could do about maybe increasing promotion...or pushing more stuff for Christmas. Doing whatever I can.”
“Doing whatever you can with what?” Ryan called over his shoulder, carrying another box.
“With the surf shop,” Sean said.
“You and that surf shop,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “Man. You moving out is like the end of a legacy.”
Sean tried not to think of the finality of that statement.
After several trips, they finally had the bulk of Sean’s stuff in the in-law unit. There were boxes everywhere—Ryan was right, he had a ton of books. Fortunately, he now had some built-in bookshelves, a nice touch. It was going to take weeks to unload the boxes. That is, if he decided to unpack. With Tubes up in the air, he didn’t know how long this arrangement was going to last. Especially once he was done teaching Allison.
He really had to thank her, he thought. Although from the gleam in her eyes when last he saw her, he was pretty certain she was going to make sure that he repaid her little favor in full...and then some.
And, let’s face it, I’ve never looked forward to repaying a favor so much in my life.
“Well, you look pretty happy about moving,” Ryan noted with suspicion.
Sean quickly wiped the grin off his face and glanced at his watch. Six o’clock. He’d promised Allison that he’d meet her at the surf shop and get her outfitted.
“Thanks, guys,” he said, and meant it. The three men had been his best friends since high school. He knew how rare it was that they hadn’t lost contact when they all went off to college and he’d gone to a junior college. “I really appreciate this.”
“Pay us back by grabbing a beer with us,” Mike said, taking a deep breath, “and we’ll be even.”
“Can’t,” Sean said regretfully. “That new surf student of mine needs to get some things. I was going to open up the store and take care of that tonight.”
Mike shrugged. “So grab a beer with us tomorrow.”
“I’ll be working, then I’m teaching,” he said. “Every night, actually.” He looked at Gabe. “This is probably going to be a lot of money. Gotta do what I can.”
“Don’t tell me,” Ryan said. “You’re teaching some rich guy to surf the Pipeline in a few weeks, and he’s paying you outrageously to be a drill sergeant every single day?”
Sean coughed. “Not exactly. But I’ve gotta get going...”
Gabe stopped him. “How much are you charging?”
Sean was afraid of this. “The usual.”
“You’re teaching for free?” Gabe looked aghast.
“You’re what?” Ryan yelped.
Mike frowned, puzzled. “But I thought you said the guy was rich.”
“Actually, Ryan said that,” Sean said impatiently, stripping off his sweat-soaked shirt and rummaging around for a clean one. He really ought to take a shower. “Listen, I was supposed to be at Tubes fifteen minutes ago, and I hate to rush you...”
“Tubes is in trouble, you’re in temporary housing...and you’re going to spend the next five weeks giving daily surf lessons to some rich guy every day for free?” Gabe said, his voice raising.
“Every day?” Mike said, surprised.
“Tubes is in trouble?” Ryan picked up immediately.
“I knew I should’ve hired movers,” Sean grumbled. “To those of you joining our program late—yes, Tubes is in trouble. Oz might have to sell. I’m doing what I can to fix that. Whether or not I can has nothing to do with the surf lessons I’m giving, but I promised I’d do that, so that’s what I’m doing. And, yes, they’re for free. And, yes, I’m teaching them every day.” He grabbed a clean shirt impatiently, and turned to glare at them. “We all caught up now?”
“Sean, you’ve got a lot on your plate right now,” Gabe said.
“Yeah, give us one good reason why any man in his right mind would spend all that time and effort for no money at all,” Ryan said, crossing his arms.
“Sean?”
Sean looked over at the doorway. Allison stood there, her eyes wide as she surveyed the walls of cardboard boxes and the four sweaty men arguing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Ryan smiled broadly as he checked Allison out. “No. Please. Interrupt as often as you want.”
Sean quickly stepped forward, tugging his shirt on. “Allison. I’m sorry I’m late....”
“I only had the store number. I didn’t have your cell.” She looked apologetic. “I’m afraid I have to reschedule. I have to go back in to work.”
“This late?” he said, appalled.
She sighed. “Emergency meeting. So can we do the gear shopping tomorrow? And get started right away?”
“What time is good for you?”
She bit her full lower lip, looking as unstoppably cute as usual. “How’s six-thirty?”
“The store will be closed by then,” he said, “But I’ll open it up just for you, don’t worry.”
She smiled, and the expression sent a wave of warmth through him. “Thanks,” she breathed. “See you then,” she said. Then she waved to the other guys, turned and walked quickly away.
Sean watched her leave, admiring her gait... then realized that he had three onlookers who were about to unleash a load of grief on him. Bracing himself, he turned back.
“Guess I can have that beer after all,” he said, then realized they were all grinning from ear-to-ear. “Oh, hell.”
“You dog,” Ryan said. “What happened to the monastic life?”
“It’s not like that,” Sean said. “She’s just a student, that’s all.”
“That’s your mystery client? I thought she was supposed to be a guy!” Mike said.
“For the record, I didn’t call her rich, and I didn’t call her a guy,” Sean protested. “Ryan just made some assumptions.”
“And man, I’m glad I’m wrong,” Ryan said, walking to the door frame. “She is HOT.” He turned back to Sean, his expression speculative. “You know, I’ve got some free time. With Tubes being in trouble and all, I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plate. Why don’t you let me teach her?”
“Got it covered,” Sean said with an overtone of menace he didn’t even realize was going to be there.
Ryan’s grin widened. “Monastic, my ass.”
“Let’s get that beer,” Sean shot back.
Ryan and Mike were still joking as they walked down the stairs, but Gabe hung back, his expression still serious. “Listen, I’m glad that your love life is getting back on track, and all...”
“It’s not...argh,” Sean said. “Why won’t anybody believe that there really isn’t anything between us?”
Gabe’s expression stayed stem. “If there isn’t anything between you and that girl, then I gotta say—it’s even more reason for you to cancel these lessons, Sean.”
Sean was taken aback. “Why?”
“Tubes is going to go under fast if things don’t change. You’re going to have to come up with a game plan. What are you going to do if you have to leave the shop?”
Sean took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re going to need to think of something, and pretty soon, too,” Gabe said. “I know you promised, and you feel like you owe this girl. And I know how much your word means to you. But we can find her another surf instructor. I can help you with that,” Gabe said. “Besides, in five weeks? She sounds like some spoiled rich girl with more money than common sense. It’s not like she’s learning because she loves it.”
Sean felt a wave of protest...and just as quickly quelled it. He didn’t know why exactly she was learning, besides the fact that it was for work. Gabe was probably right.
“I’ll worry about it when I get there,” Sean said.
Gabe’s eyes were sympathetic, and he clapped a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Hate to tell you, bro, but you are there.”
Sean swallowed hard. “Let me get that beer,” he said, his voice a little uneven.
He needed to think about it. He loved Tubes, and would do whatever he could to save it. And if he couldn’t save it, then he’d need a job in a hurry. Every single thing that Gabe said made sense.
So why did the thought of someone else teaching Allison feel so damn wrong?
ON SATURDAY, Allison had still put in a long day at the office. She’d gone over the presentation three times with Frank, and had wound up scrapping the entire thing, much to the disappointment of the creative team, the media team and herself. Frank was going after this thing like a man possessed, and he was making everyone else crazy in the process. Four times, she’d had to excuse herself and go outside, trying to take deep breaths without drawing attention to herself.
She wished she could actually get into the water today.
Instead, she was here at the surf shop, after hours, knowing that at least she was getting one step closer to relaxation.
The only problem was, if there was one thing she hated almost more than the panic attacks, it was feeling stupid. And here in the
dressing room, it seemed almost impossible not to feel stupid. Although “ugly” was running a close second.
“You okay in there?”
At the sound of Sean’s voice, her heart raced, and not in the good way that she was starting to get used to around Sean. “Just a second,” she called out.
She surveyed the wet suit. It was a winter suit, with long sleeves and full leg covering, and she was having a hell of a time getting the thing on.
She pulled the wet suit over her legs as best she could, wincing as the rubber gripped and pinched her thighs. Okay, maybe she wasn’t working out as much as she should, but did the guy sneak her a child’s size or something? She couldn’t seem to get it around her rump. She finally got it up to her butt.
“Allison? You sure you don’t need some help?”
And have him see her like this? Was he high?
“Nope! I’ll be out in a minute!” she sang out in a false cheerful voice...then she sat on the floor and wriggled.
After a few moments of wiggling, groaning and struggling, she finally got half of the suit over her butt...and promptly kicked the door open, lying there on the floor, with her legs up. She caught a glimpse of her own horrified expression in the mirror, before looking up and seeing Sean’s shocked look.
“Um...need help?”
“No,” she muttered, then closed her eyes against the humiliation. “I mean, yes.”
He was trying not to smile, she had to give him that. “Are you all right?” he asked with exaggerated care.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Although I suddenly have a profound new respect for people who put on condoms.”
She blushed immediately. What the hell had gotten into her? She sat up immediately, whacking her head on the small bench.
“Whoa! Whoa,” Sean said, all amusement erased from his face.
“You know,” she said, keeping her eyes closed, “this is a hell of a lot to do to frickin’ learn how to relax.”
To her immense horror and embarrassment, she started crying. Tears welled up, and before she could stop them, they were running down her cheeks. She brushed them away as quickly as she could.
The Surfer Solution Page 6