CHAPTER 10
Marina
Marina turned onto Cedar Springs Road, her fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. She felt good—better than she had in weeks. The morning spent in the water had brought a sense of joy she hadn’t anticipated.
She had smiled more during her shift than usual, and the customers had noticed. Tips were better, conversations flowed easily, and the hours slipped by faster than normal. Maybe Katrina was right; maybe she really did need to surf more.
It must’ve taken longer than expected. That made perfect sense. So why did her stomach flutter?
She sighed softly. All afternoon, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. While wiping down the bar, refilling drinks, or laughing at customers' jokes, her thoughts drifted back to the beach. She remembered the way he looked at her, how he leaned in.
She had lost track of how many times she wondered what might have happened if she hadn’t stopped him. She shouldn’t be thinking that way. She had made the right choice. Tonight would be another test of her resolve.
Marina parked, climbed out, and walked up the path. As she opened the front door, the rich aroma of garlic and butter filled the air. Skylla bounded toward her, tail wagging so hard her whole body swayed.
“Hey, girl.” Marina scratched behind the shepherd's ears before looking up.
Ryan sat at the dining table, his laptop open and focused on the screen.
He glanced up as she entered. He had changed out of his wetsuit hours ago, but the image her mind conjured was of him standing on the beach that morning, seawater glistening on his bare chest, sunlight catching the droplets on his skin.
Heat crept into her cheeks. Stop it. She forced a smile, acting as though nothing had happened.
“Hi, Ryan. Still here?”
“Yeah,” he replied, looking up from the screen. “Working on Katrina's website.” He instinctively minimized something on the laptop.
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes as she hung her keys on the hook by the door. “She can't wait, can she?”
“Well, she invited me for dinner, and I don’t have anything else to do,” he shrugged.
“I see.” She inhaled again. “Smells good. She’s making shrimp scampi. Of course.”
“Why ‘of course’?” Ryan asked.
Marina chuckled softly. “She only makes it on special occasions.”
“I see.” He smiled. “I guess I’m lucky.”
“You are,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows as she moved toward the kitchen. “Hey, need any help?”
“Just keep Ryan company or set the table,” Katrina called from the kitchen. “Almost done here.”
Ryan closed his laptop and stood. “I’ll help with the table.”
Marina grabbed three plates from the cabinet while Ryan found the silverware. They moved around each other without getting in each other's way, almost as though they'd done it before. Once or twice their hands reached for the same drawer, and one of them stepped aside with an awkward smile.
She was becoming far too comfortable around him. The thought unsettled her.
The table was small, just large enough for the three of them. Years of use had worn the edges smooth, and countless family dinners had left faint scratches beneath the polished finish.
"I'm going to change," Marina said after setting down the last plate. "Be right back."
She escaped into her bedroom before she could think too much about Ryan standing only a few feet away.
She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
She looked tired. Her ponytail had flattened her hair, and the long shift had washed away most of the careful makeup she'd put on that afternoon.
For a moment she considered freshening it up. Maybe a little lipstick. Maybe one of the sundresses hanging in the closet.
Then she caught herself. What was she doing? Ryan wasn't there to see her. He was there because Katrina had invited him.
Tonight was about her sister, not her.
Marina washed the last traces of makeup from her face, changed into a pair of comfortable yoga pants, and let her hair fall loose around her shoulders.
That was better. Comfortable and safe.
As soon as she stepped back into the living room, Ryan glanced up. For just a moment, their eyes met—he wasn’t staring, just looking. A pleasant warmth washed over her, but she quickly brushed it aside. Stop it.
Katrina emerged from the kitchen carrying a large serving bowl of shrimp scampi, fragrant steam curling into the air.
"Dinner's served."
They filled their plates, passing around garlic bread and salad before settling into an easy silence.
Marina took her first bite and smiled. Shrimp scampi was one of the few dishes Katrina could make consistently well. Tonight it tasted even better than usual. Ryan must have been good motivation.
"How was work?" Katrina asked.
"The usual." Marina shrugged. "Some tourists, some locals. Nothing exciting."
"You know," Katrina said, leaning forward, "you should consider joining me at the surf school once the website is ready. You could teach in the mornings and bartend in the afternoons."
Marina smiled to herself. Here it comes again.
Katrina never gave up. Every time Marina thought the subject had finally been put to rest, Katrina found a new angle.
She searched for another excuse but couldn't find one.
"I'm not sure," Marina said. "I'm not good at teaching."
"That's not true," Ryan said. "You gave me some pretty good tips this morning."
Marina looked at him. She hadn't expected him to join Katrina's campaign. Somehow, hearing it from Ryan made it a little harder to dismiss.
"That was different," she said. "You already had the basics down."
"At least let me put your name on the website," Katrina said. "And your credentials. Three-time collegiate surfing champion. It'll attract customers."
Marina hesitated. It was only a name. It didn't mean she had to teach. It didn't mean she had to compete again. If it helped Katrina's business, there wasn't much reason to argue.
"Okay," she said. "Fine."
"Yes!" Katrina pumped a fist. "And I'll need your help designing the lesson structure too. You know, what beginners should learn first and how to build from there."
"I'm not—"
"Please? I've got the business side down, but you know the sport way better than I do."
Marina paused. This was different. Designing the lessons meant thinking like a coach. It meant remembering everything her father had taught her. It meant becoming part of the school instead of simply lending her name to it.
She opened her mouth to refuse again. Then she looked up—Katrina was watching her hopefully, and Ryan was waiting quietly beside her.
Katrina had poured so much into the surf school. The website. The lessons. The equipment. Every time Marina looked up, her sister had another idea.
And through it all, she'd kept trying to pull Marina back into surfing. Not by forcing her, just by refusing to give up.
Marina let out a quiet sigh. "Okay, okay. I'll help."
Katrina broke into a grin, and Ryan smiled too.
The sight of both of them looking so pleased with her answer made Marina shake her head.
After a few minutes of eating, she looked at Katrina again.
"Are you serious about this surf school, though?
" she asked. "There are so many better things you could do with your life.
You have a business degree. You could get a job that pays way better.
Why spend your time doing this, especially when you weren't even that crazy about surfing before?
" She smiled faintly. "You hated it as a kid. "
"I've always loved surfing," Katrina said quietly. "My rivalry with you just got in the way. I see that more clearly than ever now." She looked around the cottage before turning back to Marina. "I don't want to work in some high-rise on Market Street. I want to be here, in Cliff Harbor."
She reached across the table and squeezed Marina's hand. "With you."
Marina looked down at their joined hands. She knew Katrina meant every word.
For two years her sister had been trying to build a life here, and every plan somehow found room for Marina. The surf school was never just about teaching people to surf. It had always been Katrina's way of asking her to come back.
Marina felt a lump rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She wasn't about to ruin the moment. She smiled and squeezed Katrina's hand. "You're crazy."
"That's why you love me."
"I suppose I do."
Ryan laughed softly, and Marina looked across the table at him.
He wasn't saying anything. He was simply watching the two of them with a small smile, as though he understood more than either sister had explained.
She held his gaze for a moment before looking back at her plate.
After dinner, Marina reached for her plate.
"I'll do the dishes."
"So will I," Katrina said immediately.
Marina looked up. "You cooked."
"And you worked all afternoon."
"So did you."
They stood facing each other across the table, arms folded, neither giving an inch.
Ryan laughed. "I've never seen two people argue over who gets to wash dishes."
Marina smiled despite herself.
They didn't usually argue over the dishes. Whoever didn't cook normally cleaned up. It was an arrangement that had never needed discussing.
Katrina was breaking the rule. She was obviously up to something.
"How about all three of us do it together?" Ryan suggested. "We'll finish faster."
Marina and Katrina exchanged a glance.
"That works," Katrina said.
"I'm in," Marina agreed.
The three of them moved easily around the kitchen. Marina scraped plates while Ryan rinsed them and Katrina loaded the dishwasher. Skylla wandered hopefully between them, convinced someone would eventually drop another piece of bread.
More than once Marina found herself standing beside Ryan. Each time their shoulders came close, one of them quietly stepped aside. Neither said a word. It shouldn't have felt awkward. Instead it felt… dangerous.
Fifteen minutes later the counters were clean, the leftovers packed away, and Katrina pulled a bottle of Pinot Noir from a cabinet. "Wine?"
Marina accepted a glass.
Maybe this would be easier than she'd feared.
They settled onto the couch. Katrina squeezed herself between them while Skylla sprawled across the floor.
"So," Katrina asked, "how many more days are you staying in Cliff Harbor?"
"This is my fourth night," Ryan said. "Two and a half more days. I'm driving back to San Jose Sunday afternoon."
"That's so sad," Katrina said. "We've just gotten to know you."
"I don't want to leave so soon either." Ryan smiled. "Maybe I should stay longer. I’ve got another week of vacation.”
Marina lowered her eyes to her wineglass. Don't. The thought came so quickly it startled her. She took a slow sip instead.
He was only talking. That was all. Still… The idea of him staying another week made something warm settle quietly inside her.
She emptied her glass. "I should go shower," she said, standing. "I'll leave you two alone."
Before she had taken two steps, Katrina jumped up. "I need one more than you do!" And she darted down the hallway before finishing her sentence.
Marina stared after her sister. Then she sighed. Oh, Kat...
She turned back toward Ryan. "What is she doing?"
Ryan smiled. "I think she's trying to set me up with you."
Marina froze. "What?"
"She told me earlier." He looked almost embarrassed. "Apparently this whole dinner was part of her plan."
Heat rushed into Marina's face. Of course. Of course Katrina had done something like that.
Then everything clicked into place. Kat had seen through her long before she had admitted anything to herself. The surf lesson. Dinner. Every little push since yesterday.
Katrina had made it sound as though she wanted Ryan to help her, or wanted Marina to surf again.
She had really been trying to bring the two of them together. Shit. Marina had walked straight into it.
"I'm so sorry," Marina said. "She's hopeless."
Ryan shrugged, his eyes not leaving her. "She also told me you like me."
Marina felt every ounce of color drain from her face before rushing back again.
She wanted the floor to open beneath her. "No..."
She closed her eyes for a second. "I am going to kill her."
Ryan laughed softly.
Marina shook her head. "I'm sorry. Obviously you'd rather be with her."
She turned toward the hallway. She needed to explain, and she needed to fix this before Katrina embarrassed herself any further.
A warm hand closed gently around hers, and she stopped.
"Wait,” Ryan whispered. "Please stay."
Her heart stumbled, and she looked back.
"I'd like to be with you." He looked as though he'd already made up his mind.
For a moment she couldn't think. She had imagined hearing those words all afternoon.
She had told herself they never would. Yet here they were.
Ryan stepped closer.
A voice in her head urged her to step away, to escape. But she couldn’t move as if her feet were glued to the ground.
She didn't.
And then his lips brushed hers, tentative, almost asking permission.
She kissed him back before she could stop herself. Her hand rose to his cheek, and the kiss deepened.
For one impossible moment the world became wonderfully simple.
No promises. No guilt. No impossible choices. Just Ryan and her.
Then footsteps came down the stairs. "Sorry," Katrina called. "I just need some water."
Marina pulled back abruptly, pressing a hand against his chest. "I can't."
Ryan looked at her. "Why not? Don't you like me?"
She laughed softly, almost sadly. "I do."
The words came far too easily.
"That's the problem." She lowered her hand. "Katrina will get hurt. She likes you, Ryan. I'm sure about it."
Ryan sighed. "Then maybe you should talk to her."
A brief silence followed, then she heard Katrina’s voice. "There's no need."
Both of them turned.
Katrina stood at the end of the hallway, a bathrobe draped over one arm. "It's true," she said quietly. "I like Ryan. But I love you more."
Marina closed her eyes. Oh, Kat...
"I want you to be happy," Katrina continued. "You haven't dated anyone in two years. It's not every day someone like Ryan comes along."
"Ryan, I'm so sorry." Marina turned to her sister. "And stop making me sound so desperate. You haven't been on a date for a while either."
"I have. Not a lot but still, better than you."
The familiar argument began before either of them realized it.
Ryan raised both hands. "Stop."
His voice wasn't loud although it didn't have to be. "I hate seeing you do this."
Marina fell silent. "So do I."
"You both love each other. You both want the other to be happy." He looked from one sister to the other. "Maybe we should just stay friends."
Friends.
The word landed somewhere between relief and disappointment. Part of Marina wanted to agree immediately. Another part wanted to ask whether that was really what he wanted.
Before she could speak, Katrina looked at her. "Can you come to the bedroom for a minute?"
Marina nodded. She didn't trust herself to say anything. As she followed Katrina down the hallway, she resisted the urge to look back. She wasn't sure she'd have the strength to walk away a second time if she met Ryan's eyes again.