Page 84 of Lowering His Guard

“I’m not a witch. These are skills you can learn, too. Practice makes perfect.”

I draw three X’s in the sand. I tap the first one. “Sit here and the wave rolls underneath you.” I tap the second. “Sit here and the wave picks you up.” I tap the third. “Sit here and it’ll break your head. I do not recommend option three.”

I point to a man surfing. “See that surfer?”

Jace nods.

“He’s too far out.” Another surfer catches a wave. “See her?”

He nods again.

“She didn’t paddle harder. She was already sitting where the wave wanted her.”

He blows out a breath. “Surfing is more complicated than I expected after last week.”

I grin. “Last week’s group was the ‘checked it off my bucket list’-group. They stand up once, buy a souvenir, and spend the next twenty years telling everyone they’re basically a pro.”

He chuckles. “So true. One of my friends posted a picture of him surfing on Insta. The board was on the sand but he cut it out.”

“Never trust someone who poses more than paddles.” I wink at him before getting to my feet. “Who’s ready to go out there and put this all to practice?”

Before the students have a chance to stand, a woman arrives. Judging by her outfit – a skintight dress and sky-high heels – she’s not here to join the class.

“What the hell is going on here?” she screams.

I hurry toward her. “Hi, I’m May. I’m the surfing instructor.” I offer her my hand but she stares at it in disdain. Okay, then. I drop it. “How can I help you?”

“You can help me by telling me what you’re doing with my son and my husband!”

I have no idea who she’s talking about. I motion to the class still sitting in the sand. “Which one is your son?”

She points to Jace. “He is my boy.”

Jace’s nose wrinkles and confusion clouds his eyes. “Mom?”

“Come here, boy.”

He stands but I intercept him. “Is this your mom?”

Please say no. The woman standing in front of me is my polar opposite. She’s tall, has blonde hair, and curves that go on for days. If this is the type of woman Brock is attracted to, I’m in trouble.

“I think so.” He studies the woman. “I haven’t seen her since I was five.”

This tracks with what Brock told me, but I didn’t want to presume. It’s not my place. Brock isn’t my boyfriend. Even if he was, he’s the dad. He sets the rules.

“Stop hogging my son,” the woman who must be Serenity says. She reaches forward, snags his wrist, and tugs.

“Ow. Watch the nails.” Jace tears his hand from her hold.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine. She scratched me, is all.”

He shows me his wrist. When I notice the red lines, I see red. I force myself to push down the anger. My first priority is to get Jace to safety.

“Dave!” I motion the student over. “Can you take Jace to the ice cream truck? Buy whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“Got it.”