Free Waves of Love (Surf’s Up Book 1) by Lori Ann Mitchell Page B

guarantee.”
                  “Me too,” said Derek, appearing behind Heather like an apparition.
     

Chapter Thirteen
     
                  Derek stood, awkwardly, chagrined, as the waitress turned to smile. “Aren’t you…?” he said, snapping his fingers. “Heather, right? I have your son Chad in my surf camp.”
                  She stood and he waved a hand. “No, no,” he said, catching Sage peering up at him, eyes soft, hurt and wounded. “I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
                  “You weren’t,” said Heather, winking back at Sage. “Besides, my babysitter will be calling any minute, checking on me. Thanks for the talk,” she said, turning back to Sage. As she left the table, Heather turned to squeeze Sage’s hand.
                  She turned, winking at Derek and wagging a “bad boy” finger at him as she left the deck. “This seat taken?” he asked, turning back to Sage.
                  She shook her head, still not having said a word. A waiter appeared, middle-aged and sounding rushed. “Guess I’ll be taking over for Heather?” he asked, sounding put out.
                  She held up her drink and spoke for the first time. “I’m okay,” she said, to the waiter. Then, to Derek, “Want anything?”
              “That looks good,” he said, nodding toward Sage’s margarita. The waiter nodded and left, silently.
                  Derek sat back, in his chair, shaking his head. “It’s not like you, bailing on one of my talks like that,” he finally said.
                  Sage nodded, clucking her tongue. “Two’s company,” she said, voice sounding hurt as she avoided his eyes. “Three’s a crowd.”
                  “That’s just it,” he said, leaning forward. “I didn’t bring company. That chick… that chick…”
                  “That chick ,” Sage said, a fire in her eyes, leaning forward as well. “That chick is who you should be with, Derek. Not an old cow like me.”
                  He shook his head, a rare ire growing in his belly. “First of all, Sage, you need to stop talking about yourself like that. I don’t know what, or who, hurt you in the past, but I’m with you because I’m attracted to you; all of you.”
                  He peered at her, hot as anyone half her age, in her cuddly white hoodie and pink ball cap, long legs capped by a lushly clingy bikini bottom. “And even if you were an old cow, Sage, if I committed to you, I’d stick by you, because I’m not that guy.”
                  “Then who was that girl?” she croaked, peering back at him – really looking at him – for the very first time.
                  “Some blogger, Sage. She conned my editor into profiling me for some blog she writes, and I guess it’s got a lot of subscribers and could be good for sales and… maybe if you hadn’t stormed off without letting me explain, I might have been able to tell you all that.”
                  She shook her head, chuckling and crying, just a little. He let her. She was strong, he knew that, but vulnerable as well. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes with a napkin. “I’m just…” She threw up her hands, shook her head, flustered. He sat there, sipping his drink, letting her find her rhythm – and her words. “It’s been so long since someone’s shown an interest in me, Derek, I…”
                  “That’s their loss, Sage,” he said, meaning every word. “And shame on them for letting you go to waste.”
                  She shook her head. “Why?” she asked. “What… what is this all about?”
                  He put his drink down, peering back at her. “This is about you and me, Sage,” he said. “But I can’t keep trying to convince you that