“A blanket? Isn’t that thoughtful.”
“I don’t want you to get sand in your bra. I know how much you hate that.”
“Jake, I’ve pretty much had sand in my bra since the day I got here. And my panties, and my shoes, and my hair. Sometimes I dream about sand. It’s everywhere.”
“Welcome to Manalua, newbie,” I tell her once again.
She laughs at that as I place the blanket over the beach, far enough away from the bonfire to have the right amount of privacy. She slides out of her sandals and pulls up the skirt of her dress, just like the first night we did this. God, how I wanted her then. I still do, even more.
We plop down, lean back on our elbows, and stare up at the sky. A shooting star blazes across the sky, and we both say “Wow” at the same time.
“It’s the meteor shower you mentioned,” she says.
“I forgot all about it,” I reply, and I know that without a doubt this is the right moment for us.
We see a few more and each time it’s awesome. When there’s a lag, I start to rehearse my big spiel in my mind again, but she distracts me when she points up to the sky and says, “Look, another one.” I’m reminded of the first night we did this when she pointed out some stars and told me a story about a fake constellation.
Inspiration strikes and I know how to do this. “That was pretty good, but you know what’s better?” I ask.
“What?” she says with a mischievous grin. Oh, she’s game.
“Look there.” I take her finger and point to a series of stars that have nothing to do with one another.
“Is that a constellation?” she asks.
“It is a constellation, Sara. Very good.”
“Which one is it?”
“Sarathena.”
“Sarathena?”
“You’re not familiar?” I ask.
“I’m not, please tell me all about her.”
“Sarathena was this Greek goddess that had beautiful long black hair and eyes the color of the sea. One day, she stumbled upon a mere mortal who dared to ride the waves but didn’t have much more going in his life. She took pity on him and gave him a special surfboard.”
“What happened next?”
“Well, what do you think? He took that board and tried to ride the largest wave in all of Hawaii. He gave it his all, but he wiped out and nearly drowned.”
“Oh, no! What did Sarathena do?”
“She rescued him, of course, and took him to her bosom,” I tell her and lay my head on her chest, which gets a good laugh out of her. “And she asked him, ‘Why did you go for the biggest swell?’”
“And what did he say?”
“He said, ‘Because I wanted to show you that I would take on anything for you. No matter how stupid, no matter how dangerous, no matter how small. For you, I would sacrifice my body to the ocean.’”
“That’s a little extreme, right?” she says with a laugh.
“That’s what Sarathena said! I think you do know this story, after all. But, the mortal didn’t think so. He loved his goddess so much that he’d be willing to risk it all for her.”
“She never needed him to do that,” she says and runs her fingers through my hair.
“She never needed to ask.”
There’s a long pause, and I think she might be wiping some tears away. “What happened after that? Did she kick him to the curb?”
I bite on her breast through the fabric of her dress and she yelps. Then she swats me on the back, and I start laughing.
“Tell me the rest,” she demands as any goddess would.
I turn onto my side, resting on my left arm, and pull her toward me so we’re nose to nose. “The goddess was so enamored with her mortal that she kissed him.”
Sara closes her eyes and kisses me sweetly on the lips.
“And that kiss was the sign he needed to do this.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring, an oval-cut diamond set in a gold band. Her eyes grow wide when she sees it. “I don’t care if your name is Sara or Audrey, or something else goddess-worthy. All I care about is you, the girl who stole some sunglasses from me and made me take her out surfing. I want to be with you forever, newbie. Will you marry me?”
Sara gets up on her knees, and I follow her lead. I’m a little nervous as she takes hold of my hands and the ring is still in my grasp. I need her to say yes. “Jake, I got much more than I bargained for when I agreed to those six lessons. I got a partner, someone that I can truly trust, and someone I fell in love with when I didn’t think I’d be able to let anyone in. I no longer think that I’m 4,196.3 miles from home. Home is here with you. Thank you for loving me and for being my guy. Yes, I will marry you. Of course, I will, you mere mortal.”
Sara grabs the ring from my hand and slips it on herself, the greedy little thing, but I don’t care. All I want to do is kiss her, so I do, and she kisses me back with everything she’s got.
The End.
Be What Love Is
Exclusive Excerpt
Reid
Cara and I make polite chatter on the drive into Bath. The hired driver is professional and quiet, but deep down I wish I would have driven so we could be free to talk about whatever we want. His nearly invisible presence doesn’t hold Cara back from near hysterics after I tell her a story about a private concert I attended by a famous violinist.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, totally caught off guard by her outburst.
She struggles to find the words at first. “It’s all a little much. I can’t believe I’m here, in this expensive dress, in the back of this…what kind of car is this?
A smile twitches on my lips. “Rolls Royce.”
“Christ!” she exclaims and starts laughing again.
I don’t find it funny and when she notices that, she calms herself. “I’m a long way from home. This life, this wealth, it’s plain silly. I’m out of my element.”
I turn in toward her. “Are you? This is where you’re from Cara, this is the life that you were meant to live,” I say with absolute conviction.
“But it’s not the life I lived. At all. After we moved to the States, I shared a bed with my mom in a studio apartment for five years. I wore shoes from Payless, not Prada.”
“It didn’t have to be that way, Cara. Not from my understanding of what transpired.”
“But it was, Reid, and it can’t be undone. I’m not ashamed of it. I love my life back home. I love how I’ve turned out.”
“I’m not ashamed of this either,” I tell her and motion to my tuxedo, her dress, the car. “Your grandfather and I worked very hard for all of this.”
She holds her tongue, which surprises me. I expect to get an earful about inherited wealth and privilege, which I know is justified. Instead, she says, “You shouldn’t be ashamed. I’m just having this crazy out-of-body moment where I have to shake my head because this is a little unreal for me. I’m not sure I fit the part at all.”
I take her hand and squeeze it. “You fit the part spectacularly. It’s more natural on you than you think it is. You’re clever, witty, and lovely. There is no one at this gala that can outshine you in any way.”
She looks a little skeptical but mutters, “Thank you.” She glances at our hands clasped together and smiles, setting off a warm sensation through my chest.
The car hits a bump causing the slit of her dress to fall open and expose her leg, all the way up to her hip. Instinctively, I squeeze her hand harder as my eyes travel up the length of her thigh.
“Cara,” I murmur, not even sure what I’m going to say.
“Reid,” she replies, nearly out of breath. That’s been happening a lot lately.
Start reading Be What Love Is.
Thank you for reading!
I hope you enjoyed Between The Waves. If you liked this, you’ll love the next book Be What Love Is, about an American graduate student that inherits a massive English estate with Jake’s old friend Reid Lewis.
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Acknowledgments
Readers! If you made it this far, thank you! I hope this story gave you at least one chest flutter.
Many thanks to Ivy. You always inspire me to write these things, and your impatience and greediness for books are one of my favorite things about you. I love you to pieces, and I couldn’t do this without you.
Thanks a bunch to Shay at EV Proofreading and to Cover Me Darling LLC for the beautiful cover.
To my parents, thanks for taking me to Hawaii when I was a kid. It’s so memorable to me. I’ll never forget our time in Maui. To my sister, who plays the role of my sassy sidekick, you are the best. To my brother, thank you for putting your music out into the world and reminding me to go for it.
A shout out to my kids, Erica and Isabelle, who are my biggest fans without getting to read any of my novels. I love you, girls.
I want to thank my husband, Mike. While writing this novella, you were going through quite a lot medically and even had surgery. When I told you that I was going to do this thing, you didn’t flinch. Your support is everything to me. I love you.
I’d also be remiss if I didn’t thank Chris Hemsworth. While my Jake Garrant became his own man, the surfing videos you post on Instagram seriously got stuck in my head and made me think that I should write this little novel, because why the hell not?
About The Author
Ellie Malouff has been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember. As an avid reader, she loves getting lost in books and decided one day to give a little back to the literary world with her own contribution. When she’s not writing, you can find her parked on the couch in Colorado with her husband, kids, and cats. She loves traveling to Ireland whenever she gets the chance.
Find Ellie online at www.elliemalouff.com.
Also by Ellie Malouff
Be What Love Is
He's sexy. He's British. And he only wears pajama bottoms to bed. Meet Reid Lewis, the man I'm stuck with all summer, going through my grandfather's massive countryside manor.
Pull At My Heart
Moving to Ireland has been my dream come true. I've managed a killer job, new friends, and a flat above the hottest pub in Cork. The ruggedly handsome roommate wasn't part of my plan. Every time he takes me out on his motorcycle so I can photograph Ireland, he grows increasingly irresistible.
Learn more about these novels at www.elliemalouff.com/books
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