Eversea A Love Story

“Could you help me at least?”
    “Can’t you stand?”
    At that point I realized Jack had the upper part of his chest out of the water. Mortified, I lowered my tiptoes to the invisible sandy bottom, but I could only reach it between each wave.
    “There are still sharks out here, you know,” I said petulantly. I wasn’t kidding. I was also a complete coward when it came to swimming in ‘dark water’ as I called it. I really couldn’t even get in a lake without shuddering. Call it an overactive imagination, but I would rather be ‘on’ the water than ‘in’ it. Jack must have seen something on my face because he instantly stopped laughing and came close. He laid the paddle on the board and came next to me.
    “Hold onto the board and lift a leg up,” he said reaching down into the water.
    All thoughts of sharks fled as I felt his hands make contact with the bare skin of my thigh and his fingers run down behind my knee. A shark could have nose-butted me right then, and I would have only swatted it away. Flicking my eyes down nervously, and trying to keep my breathing even, I lifted my leg and his hand continued down to my foot where he cupped it into a stirrup.
    “Thanks,” I mumbled, glancing at him.
    “No sweat.” He nodded tightly.
    Completely embarrassed by my idiotic outburst and reeling from his touch, I went to climb onto the board, but all of a sudden Jack let go of my foot and pulled me against him. I gasped and instinctively grabbed hold of his hard shoulders.
    The contact of my sliding skin against his in the water made my heart pound in my throat and something uncomfortable happen deep in my belly. His arm at my waist gripped me hard as each new swell of water gently rocked us. I looked up at him.
    A bead of salt water trickled from his water–darkened hair down the side of his face to his full mouth. I braced myself to look into his eyes, but before I could, he tucked his face in close to my jaw, his stubble setting my nerves on fire.
    Breathe, Keri Ann, breathe. So much for us ignoring the almost kiss and being just friends. Clearly, he was having a hard time with that. I gritted my teeth. So was I.
    He suddenly pulled away, and his arm shot out to grab the paddleboard before it got out of reach. “We almost lost that.” He grinned.
    I blinked, confused, as he resumed helping me up onto the board.
    “You paddle, I better swim back,” he said, then turned and cut through the swells with strong strokes.
    What on earth had that been about? I took a deep breath and paddled slowly back to shallower water on my knees before standing up.
    He’d almost kissed me again. Actually, I had almost kissed him . One more second and I would have. All the reasons I had last night for not doing it just didn’t seem to matter anymore.
     

 
    F I F T E E N
    Jack and I didn’t say much on our way back to the beach house until he handed me a beach towel and suggested I change so he could throw my wet stuff in the laundry.
    Grabbing my backpack, I stepped into a downstairs bathroom.
    We’d talked earlier about hanging out by the pool after we paddleboarded and eating some sandwiches for lunch, so I figured it was time to break out the bikini.
    Drawing my confidence together, I pulled it out of my bag along with the matching and way too gauzy white cover up. I put the bikini on and adjusted the ties, making sure there wouldn’t be a wardrobe malfunction displaying my assets. My breasts weren’t overly large, but looking in the mirror and taking in the white triangles on my top half, I felt like an awkward offering. Quickly, I pulled the cover-up on too, noting it had been severely misnamed. Since I had nothing else to wear, there was nothing to do but be confident in myself.
    My hair was wet and full of salt and sand, which I would have to deal with later after the pool. I let it out of its hair tie and used my hands to shake it loose so it could dry faster. At least the salt water helped it dry with a little wave and body. I grabbed up my bundle of wet clothes and headed for the laundry room.
    Still in his swimsuit, he must have only brought the one, Jack was throwing a bunch of his clothes in the dryer. Barely turning around, he grabbed my sodden stuff.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    He shrugged. “Sure, no problem.”
    He still hadn’t turned around, and his shoulders looked tense.
    “Are you okay? Do you want me to go?” I didn’t want to hang around if I was only pissing him off. Besides, it was