Pieces of Us - Carrie Elks Page 0,43
not possible.”
She laughed at his outraged expression. “It’s true. I like being organized. I get a thrill when I tick something off my to-do-list.”
“Maybe you can do mine. I’ll go surfing instead.” He winked at her.
“I could help. What do you need to do?”
He tipped his head to the side, looking at her through thick lashes. “It’s boring stuff. I need to get some numbers together to refinance the boat. I need to raise a bit of cash to make some repairs.”
“Oh, I love numbers.” Her eyes lit up. “And spreadsheets. Do you have spreadsheets?”
He laughed at the excited expression on her face. “Yeah. Really big ones. But it’s okay, I can do it this morning. Then I’ll treat myself with a surf this afternoon.”
“Maybe I’ll come and watch you do that instead. You look hot in board shorts.”
“You should come with me. I’ll teach you.”
“To surf?” Her eyes widened. “Oh no. You don’t want to see that.”
“Yeah I really do.” He leaned across to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I want to see you on a board. Come on, I’ll make it fun. I promise.”
“I’ve never surfed.”
“I’m a patient teacher.” His smile widened. “And we both know you’re strong enough. I’ve seen the muscles in your legs. I’ll even let you play with my numbers if you’d like.”
She laughed and shook her head, watching as his eyes danced with amusement. “Okay, but I’ve got the feeling you’re getting the better end of the deal.”
“It’s a win-win.” He sipped his coffee. “Come on, let’s get some work done, then I’ll meet you at the beach.”
He swallowed hard as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, then unbuttoned her cut-offs and climbed out of them, and tried really hard not to ogle her. Autumn Paxton could rock a swimsuit better than any woman he’d seen.
He was fighting a losing battle.
Taking a long, deep breath, he told his body to behave itself. He was thirty-one-years-old, long past the age when it was acceptable to get a hard-on at the beach.
She pulled her hair back, fixing it into a messy bun with a brown hair tie, then inclined her head to look up at him. “I don’t have a wetsuit,” she said, glancing down at her blue swimsuit, cut high at the hips and low at the back. “Is this okay?”
This time he wasn’t going to look. “Try this top, courtesy of Lorne’s surf shop.” He passed her a waterproof, long sleeved surf top, with a zipper from the neck to the mid section. “I think the guy might have a little crush on you. When I told him I needed surf gear for you, he offered it up.” He grinned and looked out at the sparkling blue ocean. “The water’s not too cold at this time of day, and we won’t be hitting the strong waves, but you don’t want to hurt your chest when it’s against the board.” He pulled his own surf top on over his head, tugging at the hem until it reached his long board shorts. “We’ll be starting your lesson on the beach, anyway.”
“We will?” she asked, pulling the top over her head and re-fixing her hair. And no, he wasn’t looking at the way it lifted her chest high. Not him.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m going to teach you how to stand on a board.”
She caught his eye and started to laugh. “I’ve been standing since I was about six months old. I think I have it covered.”
“Try it on the board in the water without practicing and you won’t be laughing,” he told her, raising an eyebrow. Put your board on the sand and lie stomach down on it.”
“You’re very bossy,” she told him. “I kind of like it.”
“It would be a lot easier if you didn’t answer back every time.” He grinned and shook his head.
She gave a mock-pout. “That wouldn’t be much fun.” She pointed at a black cord, attached to a thick cuff. “Is that to put around my ankle?”
“Yep. But you don’t need it on now. We’ll attach it when we get to the water. Now stop talking and get down on the board, woman.”
She blew him a kiss. “As you command, sir.”
He rolled his eyes.
She did as he told her, putting the board down on the warm sand, then lying flat until her stomach and chest were pressed against the waxed surface.
Griff knelt next to her, taking her feet in his hands and placing them at