The Almost Wives Club: Kate

by Nancy Warren

Nick turned up a few minutes early for his lesson, wearing a wet suit and carrying the cumbersome surfboard. The guy in the store had told him to carry it on his head but it wobbled alarmingly. He watched guys jog down to the beach carrying their boards under their arms with the same ease they carried their thumbs.

  He figured they’d been doing it all their lives. Because his board felt huge and unwieldy, he was glad he got to the meeting spot on the beach first so Kate couldn’t see him.

  He got a chance to watch her, though, when she arrived. She jogged down with her board tucked under her arm as though it weighed no more than a schoolbook. She seemed younger and freer. Almost a different person than the serious bride-to-be he’d met less than a week earlier.

  She spotted him and slowed to a walk, all business.

  “I like your hair,” he said. Now that he saw it when it was dry, not plastered to her head with seawater, he liked it. Short and tousled her hair looked as though a man had been running his hands through it. Or ought to.

  “Ted always liked my hair long,” she answered.

  “Ah.” He decided not to mention that he liked her short cut again, in case she shaved her head or something. She might look lighter and freer but he was aware of a current beneath the surface, like a live wire, humming with angry energy.

  “Have you ever surfed before?” she asked.

  “A bunch of us rented surf boards in Hawaii one year but we didn’t know what we were doing.”

  “A novice, then.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “All right. First thing I want you to do is turn and face away from me.”

  He obligingly turned and stood looking down the beach at some kind of utility. A water treatment plant, he thought. Or maybe a—

  His thoughts were interrupted when he received an almighty shove in the middle of his back.

  “Ow,” he yelled losing his balance and putting a foot out to stop himself falling on his face.

  “Don’t move,” she ordered. He wondered if there was a poisonous snake or a scorpion or some other deadly peril at his feet, but when he glanced down all he saw was sand.

  “See how your right foot automatically went forward when I pushed you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s your forward foot for surfing.”

  “A gentle nudge would have worked as well.”

  “But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying.”

  “I think you bruised a kidney.”

  “Come on surfer boy. Now that we know which foot you favor, we’re going to practice surfing.”

  He bent to pick up the board, eager to get out on the waves. He’d taken the lesson as a way to see her, but now that he was here he was pretty pumped about learning to surf. “No.” she said. “Right here.”

  “On the sand?”

  “Yep.”

  He glared at her. “Do you do this to all your students or are you out to humiliate me?”

  Her lips quirked but she answered, “I do it with all my novices. Humiliating you is a side bonus.”

  “You’ve only been teaching a few days. How many novices have you had?”

  “You’re wasting time. Now, I want you to lie on your surfboard.” She set hers beside his and dropped onto her belly. He followed suit.

  “You’ll paddle toward the beach.” She demonstrated paddling her arms in the sand. “Then, when the moment’s right, you jump to your feet in one motion. First put your forward foot in the center of the board and your back foot a stride behind. If you need to, you can start by jumping to your knees, then, when you feel ready, you stand up.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “You’ll get there.”

  They practiced on the sand. He was a pretty athletic guy so he didn’t have any trouble jumping from push-up position to his feet, but he wasn’t as fast or as light as his teacher. He tried to ignore the few passersby and the kids who jogged past with their surfboards and ran right into the sea.

  After about ten minutes of sand surfing she deemed him ready to try the real thing. He tethered his board to his non-dominant foot and she left her board behind, walking with him into the surf. They didn’t go very far, a little more than waist deep when she said, “Okay, we’ll start here. Now, you get on the board. When I tell you to, try to get up, exactly the way we practiced.”

  It was a little humiliating having her hold onto the end of the board and then, when she judged the wave was right, to feel her push the board toward the beach and yell, “Go!”

  But he liked not trying to figure out where the wave was, when the time was right, so all he had to concentrate on was getting the feel of the board and the wave and try to get himself upright.

  It took him a few tries, a few tumbles into the surf, but each time he felt a little more confident.

  Surfing was a little like skateboarding, a little like snowboarding, but also like neither.

  On his fourth try, he got to his feet and with some wobbling, rode the baby wave almost to the beach.

  Kate looked pleased, and clapped her hands, saying “Great job!” For a second he felt that she’d forgotten their previous association and was seeing him purely as a student. This was good, progress.

  Once he’d found his rhythm, he consistently stood up and rode the baby waves.

  “Can I try it this time without you pushing the board?” he asked.

  “You said you’d never surfed before.” She sounded pissed. “Why would you lie about that? Do you ever tell the truth?”

  He blinked at her, feeling the water ebb around them. The sand beneath his feet shifted. “I didn’t lie. I tried it once in Hawaii.”

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You are catching on much too fast. I think you’re playing me.”

  “Maybe you’re a great teacher.”

  Her lips thinned and she shook her head. “I don’t have time for games. Tell Mike to give you your money back.” She turned away and began to stride through the surf to the beach.

  “Wait! I’m a snow boarder. Also, I practically lived on my skateboard when I was a kid. The feel is similar and I already have the balance.”

  When she still looked skeptical he waded closer to her. “Trust me, no man is going to try to impress a woman by showing her how he can’t do something.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “Then what are you doing?”

  He went with the simple truth. “Trying to get close to you.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  Water swirled around them, whispering endless secrets. He stepped closer, water drops hung from her eyelashes and the ends of her hair. Her eyes were doubtful, a little sad, wary and also, he thought, or maybe hoped, interested. She felt the connection, they both did.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. That luscious mouth that was so careful about what words slipped out, the mouth he’d wanted to kiss since the first second he’d laid eyes on her.

  He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “Because of this.” And he pulled her to him and kissed her.

  The second her cool, salt-tinged lips touched his he was a lost man. She was stiff against him at first, so he did nothing more than brush her lips with his, coax, offer, give. After a second he felt a tremble go right through her and then with a tiny sound, she gave in to him, to the strong attraction between them.

  Chapter Nine