Chapter Eight
Everett Hale had shown up.
Surprise rolled through her. Rowan figured he’d send someone to soothe his guilty conscience and confirm she wasn’t a criminal, but here he was, acting like a grumpy security guard forced to work a double shift.
She couldn’t imagine the man had anything else in his wardrobe except designer suits. At least this time he’d removed the jacket and rolled up his sleeves, showing off muscled forearms and an indecently expensive watch. He looked like a business meeting that had accidentally washed up on the beach.
Rowan pretended not to notice.
The ocean shimmered and sunlight skipped across the waves.
They spent the first portion perfecting Kelsey’s pop-up and reviewing basics.
When they were ready to hit the water, she watched Kelsey paddle out with determined strokes, waiting for Rowan’s signal.
Already, her body was getting looser, and it was only her second lesson.
Something about the girl kept dragging Rowan back to the past, reminding her of the first time she realized the water was her second home.
She’d been lucky to have her father protect and nurture the spark.
She hoped Kelsey found someone to do the same, because God knows it wouldn’t be Everett.
Rowan focused on the girl, not on the father pacing the shoreline a few feet away with a phone pressed to his ear. Why did he bother to show up if he wasn’t even watching?
Kelsey popped up on her board and promptly fell off. Rowan grinned. “Nice tumble! Best one yet.”
The girl surfaced laughing. “I almost had it!”
“Almost counts.” Rowan steadied the board as Kelsey clambered back on. “Paddle out.”
She watched carefully as Kelsey tried again and finally caught a small wave. Her laugh carried all the way to shore. Rowan smiled. She loved this part—the joy on a new surfer’s face the moment they realized the ocean didn’t care who they were as long as they showed up.
She turned to check that Everett was watching his daughter. He wasn’t.
His eyes stayed on the screen, thumb scrolling like he was allergic to free time.
Rowan bit back a sigh. “Try a few on your own,” she called out, standing in the shallows to watch. As soon as the girl was out of earshot, she couldn’t help poking the bear a bit. “Hope your stock portfolio is worth missing what she just accomplished.”
His head jerked up. “Excuse me?”
“She stood up for almost five seconds.” Rowan motioned toward the water. “That’s a big deal for a beginner.”
He followed her gesture, blinking as if just remembering why he was here. “She’ll tell me all about it later.”
“You could just watch it happen.”
The words came out sharper than she meant. He pocketed the phone, gaze cooling. “I’m watching now.”
Rowan turned away and refused to show frustration.
She hated how Kelsey lit up when her father arrived, as if soaking in the attention.
It was a big deal because soon, she’d want nothing to do with him.
Boys and girlfriends would become her main focus.
Rowan remembered feeling the same push-pull at fifteen, desperate to be older and begin her life.
A bite of regret sank in. She wished she could tell her father she was sorry for being a bitch. Even though she bet he’d say with a deep laugh that it was her job as a teen, just as it was his job to let her go.
Kelsey paddled in again, panting but glowing. “Did you see that, Dad?”
“I did. Impressive,” he said, voice mild enough to make Rowan want to shake him. Kelsey didn’t seem to notice. She beamed and paddled back out.
Rowan folded her arms. “She’s working hard.”
“She’s always been determined.” His gaze tracked the horizon. “She gets that from me.”
“Or maybe from herself.”
He glanced at her. “You don’t believe in inherited traits?”
“Oh, I do,” she said. “But sometimes kids teach us who they are, not the other way around.”
Something flickered in his eyes—something wounded—but he covered it with a faint smirk. “You sound like you’ve spent a lot of time with other people’s kids.”
“I used to teach,” she said before she could stop herself. The words hung between them, heavier than she wanted.
His brow lifted. “School?”
“Surf camp.” Her voice was short and discouraged further questions.
He studied her, curiosity edging out the judgment. “But you also competed.”
She didn’t answer. The salt air pressed against her skin, the hum of the ocean filling the silence until Kelsey’s shout broke it. “Did you see that, Rowan?”
Rowan forced a smile. “Perfect form, Kels!”
“I’m not sure what you think I’m doing, but it’s not my stock portfolio.” She raised her brow at his lecturing tone. “What did you do today, Rowan?”
The grip of his dark gaze hit full force.
Rowan refused to buckle. She pretended to think hard.
“I got up and went for a walk. Fed Bagel. Came to the surf shop and did inventory; helped sand some boards; spoke to some customers. Had lunch. Took another walk. Made some calls. And showed up for Kelsey’s lesson. ”
Challenge sparked between them. He took a step closer and the water just missed his expensive shoes. “Wanna know what I did?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I woke up at six a.m. so I could field some calls out of my time zone. I was at the office at seven a.m., where I had a contractor meeting, dealt with a disaster in hospitality, approved marketing plans for the event opening, fired a member of the staff, fought with linen suppliers, and kissed my Michelin-starred chef’s ass so she wouldn’t quit over a ridiculous argument with our new GM concerning the equipment. ”
She blinked. “Why did you fire them?”
“Who?”
“You said you fired someone. What did they do?”
He blew out an impatient breath. “Didn’t show up for training on time.”
“You don’t give second chances?”
“No. Not if I want perfection.”
Rowan shook her head. “You must get disappointed a lot.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
She couldn’t help her amused smirk. “No. It’s obvious who had the better day.”
His low growl made the whole interaction worth it.
When the lesson wrapped, Kelsey jogged to shore, dragging her board. They walked to the shop and Everett followed, looking impatient to get going. “Gotta use the bathroom first!” Kelsey yelled, disappearing.
He reached for his wallet and pulled out a sleek black card. “What’s your rate?”
“No charge.”
A frown creased his brow. She wondered if laugh lines would enhance his sexiness or diminish it. She wondered how often he laughed around Kelsey. “Don’t you know anything about business? When you give lessons, there’s usually a fee.”
“Then consider this your lucky day. As you’ve pointed out, I’m not too great with business.”
His eyes heated. What would this man be like if he ever lost control? Definitely more interesting than the cool, smug suit she’d been dealing with. “I can afford your fee, Rowan.”
“I can’t afford yours.” Her lips pressed together as she regarded him intensely. “I have a feeling the moment you put a monetary value on things, you think you’re in control. My decision to teach Kelsey is mine. And you won’t be controlling my narrative.”
Was it wrong to feel so alive at his obvious frustration?
His jaw locked as he stared at her, as if he was trying to decide where to fit her on the shelf of categories he kept in his mind.
“This is ridiculous. I pay for services rendered. If it’s about not coming to Waikiki Beach, I accepted those terms.”
“She’s a kid who needed someone to show her how to stand up on a board. That’s not a service. It’s a favor.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You’re doing me a favor?”
“I’m doing it for her. I told you I don’t want your money.”
Everett crossed his arms. She refused to notice how his dress shirt stretched to accommodate those broad shoulders. How the hell did he keep so fit stuck in an office all day and night? “You don’t like money?”
“I don’t like what people think it buys.” She deliberately paused. “I’m not for sale, Mr. Hale.”
“Everett.”
His name fit him. The idea of saying it aloud and feeling all the secret places it would hit kept her stubborn silence. The air pulsed and stretched between them. Something flared in those dark eyes, then was quickly extinguished.
And then the intense moment broke. Suddenly, Everett looked down and froze. “What is that thing doing here?”
She followed his gaze. Bagel sat at his feet, staring up at him. No blink. No mercy.
“Bagel’s part of the staff,” Rowan said. “He supervises.”
The rabbit sniffed his pant leg and gave a single, decisive thump.
Everett stiffened. “Did he just—”
“Yeah. That’s his way of saying you’re not welcome. Be super careful and don’t move.”
“I’m six two,” Everett muttered. “He’s twelve inches. I should be in charge here.”
“Size doesn’t matter. He runs the place. I wouldn’t get on his bad side.”
Oh, she was awful, but it was worth watching the unease skitter across his carved features. Kelsey bounded out. “Bagel! Did you come to say goodbye? What a sweetie you are!”
Bagel hopped over and melted under Kelsey’s hands, blissful. Everett frowned like it was a personal betrayal.
“I dislike livestock. Just a suggestion, but you’d have more customers if you kept that thing home.”
“Bagel’s smart. He keeps the negative energy out of the shop.”
Everett’s mouth firmed, but she caught a tiny glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes. “You’re real subtle.”
Her response was interrupted by Kelsey. “Dad, I need to change! Can you wait a few more minutes?”
Rowan watched him glance at his expensive watch. “Okay, but hurry it up.”
Silence fell between them. He stood near the counter, hands in his pockets, looking around like he was conducting an inspection. “What do you do here?”
She couldn’t help herself. “I have a lot of responsibilities, but my most important task is making sure the sunscreen is stocked up. Oh, and the ice pops. Keeping all the flavors everyone wants is kind of stressful.”
He stared at her with suspicion. “You’re messing with me, right?”