Free The Almost Wives Club: Kate by Nancy Warren Page B

surfing.”
    Everyone in hearing range stopped to stare at her like she was insane, then the conversations all picked up again.
    There were a few of them who were older than she was; one guy, Ed, had to be in his forties, but they were all fit, and a couple of them were seriously hot. Manuel, for one, with his big brown eyes, white teeth, and the tiniest hint of an accent. He let her know by holding her gaze a second too long that he was available.
    The Aussie guy was about as subtle as a jackhammer. “What’s a gorge girl like you doing single?” he asked.
    She shrugged. “Just got out of a serious relationship.”
    “Well, I’ve got the cure for that, sweetheart,” he said, with a grin that reminded her that the ten most poisonous snakes in the world were all in Australia. In case she misunderstood, he made humping motions with his hips.
    “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”
    She stayed for a couple of hours, but she knew she wouldn’t go home with any of them. Not the Aussie, not beautiful Manuel.
    The truth was, she didn’t do casual sex.
    She threw in some cash to cover her share of the beer and said goodnight. “See you tomorrow.”
    “Night, Kate,” they chorused and she headed out.
    As she walked home she realized there was only one hot man in Carlsbad that she was interested in.
    And he was the last man she should trust.
     
    ***
    Nick turned up a few minutes early for his lesson, wearing a wet suit and carrying the cumbersome surfboard. The guy in the store had told him to carry it on his head but it wobbled alarmingly. He watched guys jog down to the beach carrying their boards under their arms with the same ease they carried their thumbs.
    He figured they’d been doing it all their lives. Because his board felt huge and unwieldy, he was glad he got to the meeting spot on the beach first so Kate couldn’t see him.
    He got a chance to watch her, though, when she arrived. She jogged down with her board tucked under her arm as though it weighed no more than a schoolbook. She seemed younger and freer. Almost a different person than the serious bride-to-be he’d met less than a week earlier.
    She spotted him and slowed to a walk, all business.
    “I like your hair,” he said. Now that he saw it when it was dry, not plastered to her head with seawater, he liked it. Short and tousled her hair looked as though a man had been running his hands through it. Or ought to.
    “Ted always liked my hair long,” she answered.
    “Ah.” He decided not to mention that he liked her short cut again, in case she shaved her head or something. She might look lighter and freer but he was aware of a current beneath the surface, like a live wire, humming with angry energy.
    “Have you ever surfed before?” she asked.
    “A bunch of us rented surf boards in Hawaii one year but we didn’t know what we were doing.”
    “A novice, then.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “All right. First thing I want you to do is turn and face away from me.”
    He obligingly turned and stood looking down the beach at some kind of utility. A water treatment plant, he thought. Or maybe a—
    His thoughts were interrupted when he received an almighty shove in the middle of his back.
    “Ow,” he yelled losing his balance and putting a foot out to stop himself falling on his face.
    “Don’t move,” she ordered. He wondered if there was a poisonous snake or a scorpion or some other deadly peril at his feet, but when he glanced down all he saw was sand.
    “See how your right foot automatically went forward when I pushed you?”
    “Yeah.”
    “That’s your forward foot for surfing. When you lost your balance you immediately landed on your dominant foot.”
    “A gentle nudge would have worked as well.”
    “But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying.”
    “I think you bruised a kidney.”
    “Come on surfer boy. Now that we know which foot you favor, we’re going to practice surfing.”
    He bent to pick up the board, eager to get out on