Chapter Nine
Everett walked Kelsey to the car on autopilot. The late sun was brutal, turning the sand gold and the air thick, and he could still feel Rowan’s breath on his mouth like a phantom.
“You okay, Dad?” Kelsey asked, juggling her board bag and towel. “You’re doing that thing with your jaw.”
“What thing?” he said sharply.
“The clenchy thing.” She grinned, completely unbothered. “You look like you’re trying not to yell at someone in your head.”
He exhaled. Apparently his thirteen-year-old daughter could read him better than half his executive team. “I’m fine. Get in. Seat belt.”
She obeyed, humming under her breath, and he slid behind the wheel. His hands wrapped around the steering wheel too tight. He forced his fingers to ease. Rowan’s voice replayed in his head, uninvited.
You’re one wave away from it, Suit.
He’d never wanted to argue with someone and kiss them in the same breath before. It was ridiculous. Immature. Dangerous.
He started the car. “So,” Kelsey said, still buzzing on some internal current. “Did you see when I almost ate it and then recovered? Rowan said my feet were finally in the right spot. She said my brain and body stopped fighting each other for, like, three whole seconds. Isn’t that cool?”
He cleared his throat. “It was . . . impressive.”
She beamed and turned to the window, watching Waikiki blur by. “I like her,” Kelsey added after a beat, casual in the way that meant it wasn’t casual at all. “Rowan, I mean.”
He swallowed. “You seem to,” he said. “She’s . . . unusual.”
“In a good way,” Kelsey shot back immediately. “You like her, right?”
His grip on the wheel tightened again. He thought of the way she’d stepped into his space like she wasn’t afraid of him. The way she’d thrown his life in his face with a handful of sentences and landed closer to the truth than anyone had in years.
I know when to let go.
You hold on too tight.
He thought of how he’d very nearly proved her right, how close he’d come to grabbing her by the shoulders and kissing that infuriating mouth just to see if it tasted as sharp as her words.
“I think,” Everett said carefully, “she’s good for your surfing.”
“You didn’t answer the question.” Kelsey sighed, but let it go, already scrolling through photos on her phone. “Never mind. You’re weird today.”
He drove them back to the house, answered her questions distractedly, and made a dinner he barely tasted. Once she was in her room with the door half closed and headphones on, he poured himself a drink he didn’t need and stared out at the dark line of the ocean.
Normally, the day would have sorted itself inside his head by now, everything dropping neatly into place. Instead, all he saw was the look on Rowan’s face when she’d said Everyone breaks.
He’d wanted to tell her she was wrong. That some people were built to carry more. That if you held hard enough and worked long enough you could outrun the crack.
But something in her eyes had made the lie stick in his throat.
He took a swallow of whiskey. What bothered him most wasn’t that she’d called him out.
It was that a part of him—small, traitorous—worried she was right.
Maybe that was the reason he didn’t show up at the next lesson.
He had an instinct Rowan would care for his daughter and keep her safe.
He didn’t need to show up in the middle of a workday, especially if she thought for one moment he was interested in any type of relationship.
It had been a one-off. An almost-kiss he’d long forgotten.
Everett stuck to what he did best and focused on Purity.
The second day, Tom texted a quick got her, boss and a photo of Kelsey grinning in the passenger seat, hair still wet.
Everett told himself it was fine, that he was doing what he was supposed to do: working, providing, building the future.
He had a breakfast with the contractor and several meetings with Matthew.
By the fourth missed lesson, guilt had begun to rub at him like sand in a shoe.
He justified it. She was with Rowan. She was improving. He was giving them space. He was being professional. He’d almost kissed a woman who clearly despised him in the middle of a surf shop while his daughter was in the bathroom. Staying away was the logical choice.
Still, when Tom reported that Kelsey talked nonstop about “this new thing Rowan taught me” all the way home, something twisted under his ribs.
It was . . . what? Attraction? Annoyance? An inconvenient, unnecessary pull toward a woman who pushed every one of his buttons and then smiled like she’d done him a favor.
You don’t know anything about me.
She was right. He didn’t. And he shouldn’t want to.
He’d come to Hawaii to open a hotel, secure a promotion, and give his daughter a decent summer. Not to fix broken surfers. Not to rethink his life because a woman in cutoff shorts with salt-tangled hair told him he’d been doing it wrong.
The night before Kelsey’s fifth lesson, he lay awake and admitted avoiding Rowan wasn’t making things easier.
He might as well go. He could show up, watch his daughter surf, and confirm that the fleeting impulse to kiss her was long gone.
Besides Rowan not being his type, he didn’t need any extra stress this summer.
You’re one wave away from it, Suit.
Muttering a curse, he turned on his side.
Fuck it. He’d show up at the beach tomorrow to watch Kelsey.
It had nothing to do with Rowan. He’d never run from conflict and didn’t intend to start now.
She was probably gleefully laughing at his retreat, smug that she’d managed to Bagel him and keep him away.
It was time to get back in control of the whole situation.
With that thought in his mind, Everett finally fell asleep.
He was back.
Rowan blinked in the slanting sun at the figure moving toward her.
She’d spent the rest of the week trying to pretend nothing had happened inside the shop. No electric heat or reckless staring match. No moment where Everett Hale had looked at her like he wanted to ruin her against the counter just to shut her up.
She’d almost convinced herself she imagined it.
Almost.
But then a familiar stride cut across the sand. Crisp. Purposeful. Like the beach had personally offended him by being made of grains instead of spreadsheet columns.
Rowan’s stomach dropped. She straightened Kelsey’s board and reminded herself his presence meant nothing.
Today’s ensemble consisted of a dark purple suit, gray shirt, and light purple tie.
The bold color was unexpected, but he managed to make it seem polished and businesslike.
The only thing out of sorts was his hair, which looked wind-tousled instead of boardroom-tamed.
She wondered what he looked like in regular clothes. Probably not as good. A suit could hide tons of imperfections, especially a soft gut. Rowan kept her voice neutral. “Back for round five?”
He paused. “I’m here for Kelsey’s lesson.”
She lifted a brow. “Figured you’d officially skipped out of those. Props for attending the first lesson, though. Did you return to the office and find you lost out on a million-dollar deal because of an hour on the beach?”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t lose million-dollar deals. My schedule happened to shift.”
“You have a schedule for ignoring your kid?” she asked sweetly.
His eyes flashed. Good. She wanted to annoy him today. It helped her feel better about the almost-kiss. “I didn’t ignore her,” he said, low. “I worked.”
“Same difference.”
“Not to me.” His brows snapped into that grouchy frown that made her want to push harder. “I see you don’t start your lessons on time.”
Oh, he hadn’t just said that. Had he?
She deliberately stretched as if enjoying her free time, noting his gaze suddenly drop to her breasts. Was that a flush on his cheeks? “We’re on island time, Suit. You ever do anything that’s not on a schedule?”
“You ever show up on time?” Everett fired back.
“You ever break a rule?”
“You ever follow one?”
His nostrils flared. The air pulled taut between them again—hotter this time, edged with something sharp. Kelsey jogged up then, saving them both. “Dad—you made it!” Her face beamed.
Everett’s voice warmed. “Yeah, I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t happen. Been looking forward to seeing your moves.”
The giggle made Rowan’s chest tighten. Kelsey was obviously giddy for his attention. “Don’t get too excited. I’m still falling a lot.”
“I bet you’re the most graceful, elegant faller ever.”
Rowan smothered a smile. “Ready to work, Kels?”
“Yep!”
Rowan guided her out past the break, keeping close while Kelsey practiced popping up. And damn, the girl was improving. She was finding her stance and trusting her feet. Rowan loved watching the girl blossom in only a short week. It filled something in her that had been empty too long.
Everett stood on the shore. This time, he didn’t look at his phone.
His claps and occasional cheers seemed to fill the girl with the simple joy of being watched over.
She was clearly starved for his attention.
The fact burned in Rowan’s chest, making her even more irritated with this man who kept ignoring his daughter to chase a career that kept them apart.
When they finally finished and dragged the boards to shore, Rowan set hers in the sand and wiped sweat from her brow. “You’re getting stronger,” she told Kelsey.
Kelsey preened and turned to her father. “Rowan says I might be ready for a shoulder-high wave if I keep practicing! We’re going out deeper next time.”
Everett stiffened. “How deep?”
Rowan turned slowly, already feeling the argument brewing. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
“It was close,” Kelsey chimed in helpfully.
“What exactly did you say?” Everett demanded.
Rowan kept her voice neutral. “I said she’ll be ready on a clear, calm day, in a controlled spot. She’s not there yet.”
Everett crossed his arms. “Why don’t you stick to teaching her basics instead of pushing her into things she isn’t ready for?”
Rowan blinked. “Pushing her? She’s the one hungry to learn.”