Chapter 5
Ryan woke to the dim light of dawn and a pounding headache. He rolled over and saw Ainsley asleep in her clothes from last night, makeup still on. Even with a foot of distance between them, he could smell the booze oozing from both of their pores.
He tiptoed out of the room, put on his running shoes, and snuck out of the house.
He took off down the road, inhaling the salty air and instantly feeling a bit better.
His rental sat on one of the roads that weaved along the perimeter of the island.
One of the lucky ones that sat on the edge of the water and not across the street like most of the houses.
Within a couple of miles, he found the peace he could only find in a run.
And it certainly didn’t hurt that the run was along the edge of the Atlantic Ocean.
This kind of run reminded him how blessed he had been.
He had been given so much in his life. The feeling of gratitude seemed to grow with each step he took.
Life had not only been good to him, but his heart was full.
When he turned around one of the bends, where the water met a granite ledge, mist sprayed into the air like fireworks with each wave accompanied by a “boom!” from below. Emotions swelled in his chest like the high tide.
This moment would be perfect if he didn’t have the sour feeling of a night of drinking. Did he really want to sit around and drink all day and night, just to be hungover the next day?
His mother had been right. All day, she had made passive comments about Ainsley.
It wasn’t unusual for Cece to get protective, but the more she’d said, the more clearly he’d seen what she was talking about.
The gorgeous beauty queen wasn’t very likable through his mother’s eyes, and now he couldn’t unsee it all.
It had started with the food. Cece Palmer showed love through her food.
So when Ainsley decided to give her feedback, explaining why she wouldn’t eat the food his family prepared—too many carbs, too much fat, not enough “real” ingredients—that’s when the snide remarks had started.
And she definitely hadn’t hidden her feelings when Ainsley had thrown up after Trivia night as she’d gotten out of the car.
Not that she’d been holding back by that point of the night.
He backed up away from the edge of the lookout, when he noticed someone bobbing up and down in the water on a surfboard. It took a split second to recognize the woman floating like a mermaid out in the water.
The beautiful Thea.
He watched for a moment, not wanting to appear creepy but wanting to see if she could take a wave.
He started slowly walking, then moved at a slow jog, and just as he was about to go, she turned around in the water just like the pros did on television.
She paddled toward the shore, leaned on her board as a wave picked her up from behind.
Smooth, like an acrobatic gymnast, she stood on the board and rode the wave, moving the tail of the board to keep the momentum going.
When the wave naturally teetered out, Thea hopped off into the water gracefully, like stepping off a ledge.
The whole scene was like something out of a ballet, or a movie, or a carefully planned choreography, not some noob on a surfboard, but someone who was one with the water.
She walked onto the shore in a black wet suit, her face and hair glistening in the light. As she emerged from the water, he couldn’t help but think of Theia, a shimmering goddess of light.
He waved as soon as she noticed him, and she gave him a small wave back. He pulled out his earbud and thought about heading down the granite cliff to the small patch of sand where she stood with her board.
“You good?” he called out to her.
She gave him a thumbs-up. “Just fine.”
He rolled his eyes to himself. Of course the woman who surfed like a mermaid would be fine. “Sorry if I startled you. Just taking a break on my run. Saw you take that wave. Pretty impressive.”
He panted a little as he caught his breath. Ever since retirement from football, he hadn’t been working out as much as he should. Maybe drinking at Tuesday Trivia until midnight wasn’t a great idea either.
He waited as she walked up the path with her board, and he noticed a towel and a backpack sitting on one of the large rocks next to him.
“Is this where you surf usually?” he asked, looking around at the granite cliffs that were covered in seaweed and barnacles. During high tide, the large rock wall would be entirely covered with water.
“They call this spot the wedge, and for good reason,” she said, sitting down next to her bag. She pulled out a couple of towels and began drying off her hair. “People have died getting wedged in by the waves and the cliffs.”
She nodded her head at the ominous boulders, whose sharp edges seemed more menacing than a second ago.
He winced at the thought. “I definitely will not be headed out here.”
“You surfed already?” she asked, with a hint of doubt in her voice.
He shook his head. “I’m thinking I need to have a refresher course.”
“I forget that you stayed here,” she said, and he needed a minute to realize she was talking about staying at the inn as a kid. “But I never knew many of the summer campers, except my brother-in-law.”
“We weren’t all snobby rich kids,” he said, pointing at himself.
She gave him a smirk. “Where’s Miss Michigan?”
“Whoa,” he said, holding out his hands. If there’s one way you could insult a Cheesehead it was by mistaking them with being a Wolverine. “She’s from the great dairy state, actually.”
“Ah, I see.” They both looked out at the water. An awkward silence fell between them as the waves crashed.
“Does the wet suit really keep you warm?” he asked, wishing he had bought one before.
She nodded, unzipping from the neck down, revealing a modest swimsuit underneath. “Always a bit chilly when you first go in, but your body warms up the suit.”
He didn’t mean to gape, but her simple elegance, her make-up free face, and her bewitching mocha eyes made him catch his breath.
He had seen many attractive women in his lifetime, gorgeous supermodels, famous performers and singers, actresses, even beauty queens, but as Thea stood on the rocky beach, her wet hair hanging down past her shoulders in gnarls and chaotic curls, he was certain she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.
What had his mother done to him? The tiny seed had been planted.
“Did you have a nice time at trivia night?” Thea asked.
He winced. He knew the people of Isabel Island had been extra kind to the beautiful woman because of who they both were, but he suddenly felt ashamed of Ainsley’s behavior and hoped that Thea hadn’t heard about it.
He had not expected trivia night or how drunk Ainsley had become by the time they’d arrived.
After trivia began, that’s when she started interacting with the crowd and telling everyone who she was.
Soon, she made fans, taking selfies and signing anything someone would give her.
“Did you hear about?—”
“Miss Oklahoma?” she said.
“Miss Wisconsin,” he corrected her, but not because it mattered at this point, just by habit.
He almost threw out some random meaningless fact, like how Wisconsin had more lakes than Minnesota, which was famously known as the “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” but he stopped himself before making himself look ridiculous. Who even cared?
What he did suddenly care about was this woman’s opinion, and he hoped it hadn’t been spoiled by Miss Wisconsin.
“We had a bit—” he said, trying to come up with an excuse for his behavior. He recoiled at the memory of Ainsley getting on the bar and singing “9 to 5” by Dolly Parton. This kind of community didn’t seem to enjoy the twerking as much as the bars in the city.
“Oh yes, I heard.” Thea smiled and wrapped one of the towels around her neck as she pulled her arms out of her wet suit. “Sounds like you all had fun. Sorry I missed it.”
Relief swept through him at the fact that she didn’t give him a hard time, but doubt also crept in.
Why did he even care what this woman thought?
He was Ryan Mathers. One of the best linemen ever.
Did it matter what some woman who could surf and had the most hauntingly gorgeous brown eyes with specks of sparkling green and glimmering gold tints thought of him?
“Wish I had gone out on the water,” he said, regretting all the booze from the day before. He didn’t feel like he would have a straight enough head to get on a surfboard in the Atlantic. He’d end up as another statistic, taken by the wedge.
She turned to the water, the wind blowing the drying hairs on her forehead away from her face. He had an urge to reach out and brush his fingertips along her jawline. It appeared so soft and smooth. Instead, he looked down at his phone.
“Do you come here to surf every morning?” he asked.
She shook her head. “But I do come out here every morning.” Her focus went to the waves rolling onto shore. “It never gets old.”
“I bet it doesn’t,” he said.
“It’s why the island used to be a sanctuary for artists,” she said. “Some of the most influential artists of our time stayed at the inn where your mom worked, to get inspired.”
“Is this where you paint?”
She shrugged. “I paint everywhere.”
And with that, they stood, watching the waves crest and break along the granite stone. Seagulls floated above them as the sun climbed through the cloudless sky. Her focus stayed on the waves rolling to shore.
Suddenly, she looked down at her watch. “Yikes, I’ve got to get to the shop and help Mandy open.”
He realized at that moment that he really didn’t want their conversation to stop.
In fact, he wished more than anything that he could spend the rest of the morning talking to this woman, but something urgent came over him, and he said his goodbye and took off running back home.
Something he needed to do before he spent any more time with the Greek goddess.
He needed to break up with Ainsley.