The Surfer Solution by Cathy Yardley

Author:Cathy Yardley [Yardley, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-01T22:00:00+00:00

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SEAN SHOWED UP at Allison’s place. It had been a while since he’d been there—was it just, what, a week and a half ago since he’d been stranded on her steps for forty minutes? It seemed like longer. It seemed like he’d known her for months. Maybe years.

At the risk of sounding desperately melodramatic, it felt like he’d wanted her forever.

The thing was, he would take things as they came. He knew Allison was now trying to do the same. And he was taking Mrs. Tilson’s advice, of all things. He was showing Ally that she did indeed want him. She was a type-A stress case. She probably needed all kinds of reassurances. She needed a game plan. She needed to proceed with caution. And, all things considered and his hormone-riddled body notwithstanding, he was okay with caution. He generally had a slow, easy approach to life, himself.

With that in mind, he walked up to her front door. Tonight, he was going to work with her on her arm strength...basic weight training, plenty of paddling. He was going to see what he could do about stirring up those hormones of hers, he thought, remembering their last encounter at the beach. He was going to slowly and incrementally show her exactly what she was missing. And then, maybe, he’d give her the tiniest kiss on the cheek.

Oh yeah. By Valentine’s Day, at the latest, she'll be more than ready to start dating. He grinned with confidence and knocked on her door.

She opened it, and his heart stopped.

She was wearing a gray tank top that molded to her body like spray paint and a pair of sweatpants that rode low on her pelvis. That glorious blond hair of hers was up in a high ponytail, emphasizing that perfect face.

“Well, hello there,” she greeted in a purring voice. “Want to come in?”

“Um, sure. Hi.” At a loss, he walked inside, watching as she shut the door behind him...and locked it. He smiled, trying to get his stride back. “So, are you ready to work out?”

She surveyed him like a cat eyeing a small flightless bird. “Boy, am I ever.”

Suddenly, his whole “going slow” scenario seemed ever so slightly out of place.

“Today, we’re going to work on your paddling,” he said, deciding to downshift into the lesson plan. She was still interested in surfing, and teaching was something he’d done for so many years, it felt like a security blanket. “You’re going to need to develop some serious upper-body strength if you want to become a true surfer.”

“You’ve got a great upper body,” she noted.

He felt himself get warm, and it wasn’t from the way she was checking him out—although that helped. No, he got the feeling he was perilously close to blushing.

Who was this, and where did she put the real Allison? This was not the same woman who had brought her elderly godmother over to his apartment to make sure there was a buffer zone between them.

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