The Windfall (13 page)

Cooper’s thumb made one more pass before he let go, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately, looking away. “I—”

“It’s okay,” I replied quickly, a bit flustered myself. Okay . . . a lot flustered. I didn’t know how to react. All of that from one touch? I swallowed hard and refocused. “Shall we continue?”

He nodded and I pushed the thoughts into the back of my mind. I would just have to sort them all out later.

After several hours of surfing, I giggled as I watched Cooper peel the top of his wetsuit down and collapse into the sand, his chest heaving with exertion.

“Oh God, I’m going to feel every bit of that in the morning. Why did you torture me so? I thought it was supposed to be fun.” He grinned a little, so I knew he was joking at least a little.

After I’d taught him the finer points of surfing, he’d spent more time in the water than he actually did on the board. Still, he was a quick learner and I was fairly certain he’d be surfing in no time. If he actually wanted to try it again, that is.

“I’m sorry you’re such a wimp,” I teased. “But, hey . . . if at first you don’t succeed—”

“You throw it out and pick an easier hobby,” he finished, opening one eye up at me. “Isn’t that how the saying goes? I’m pretty sure that’s how I’ve heard it.” He smiled that sexy-as-hell crooked smile of his. “I swear I’ve swallowed enough salt water to fill a bathtub.”

I laughed. “I hope I haven’t scared you off to a point that you plan on throwing this one out then.” The day had been, by far, the most fun I’d had with anyone in quite some time. Attempting to teach Cooper how to surf was a blast, and I’d found myself laughing more at his commentary during the experience than at his expense. He fell a lot, but he’d taken it all in stride.

He propped up on one elbow in the sand, his chest glistening with water. He was going to be covered in sand, and it didn’t look like he really cared either. This man was the polar opposite of Tim. He hated to have sand on him, which made this particular pastime extremely difficult. The one time I’d suggested him coming surfing with me, he laughed in my face and told me that it was a pointless activity so I never asked him again.

“Why the long face?” Cooper asked.

I forced a smile, shaking my head slightly. “Nothing important.” The sun was just starting to sink beyond the ocean, the last rays of the day casting shadows on the nearly deserted beach. “I guess we better get out of here.”

Cooper pushed himself off of the sand and tried to brush the mess that was clinging to his wetsuit, shrugging when he couldn’t get it to come off. Clearly he didn’t care about the sand. The scenario made me like him just a little bit more.

“So,” he said as we walked toward the cars, carrying my surfboard under his arm after not even giving me the option to carry it. Another mark in Cooper’s favor. His list of positives was getting pretty long. “How did the rookie do today?”

“Not bad.” I grinned, bumping my shoulder playfully into his. “Not bad at all. You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

“So, that means you’ll let me come back then?”

“Most definitely,” I replied with a laugh. “And maybe you can stay on the board longer than thirty seconds.”

“Funny,” he responded, that smile spreading over his handsome face again. “Emma…” He hesitated for a second. “Will you let me take you out tonight?”

I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding in my ears. Had I heard him correctly? Had the man who was starting to look a little too good to be true actually asked me out on a date? “What?” I said without thinking, just a reaction.

He stopped and turned to look at me, his expression somewhat embarrassed, and he shoved a hand through his hair roughly, making the ends stick up as he did. “It’s too soon, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. I’m sorry, Emma.” The way he looked at me was nothing short of heartwarming. He truly felt bad for putting me on the spot. Only, had he really? Or was I just being gun-shy?

I stared at his back as he began to walk on toward his car, my thoughts and emotions scrambling around in my head. Was it too soon, after Tim, for me to start thinking about dating again? Hadn't that relationship been over the day I had found out he was lying? It had been over a month since I’d said my goodbye to Tim. I couldn’t help it if he couldn’t get the picture, right? So why would I pass up on a great guy like Cooper?

“Hey, Cooper, wait up,” I said, hurrying after him.

He turned and gave me an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Emma. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship. I like you, but if you don’t want to go out tonight, I completely understand.”

“I-I like you too, Cooper,” I breathed, throwing caution to the wind. Why not? I deserved it and if I didn’t take advantage of this offer, someone else was going to. Men like Cooper didn’t stay single for long. “And I would like to go out with you tonight.”

He tried to play it cool, but his eyes widened a little and his lips curved into a smile. I immediately knew I’d made the right choice. Nothing about Cooper sent any red flags flying for my internal radar to pick up on. He was a nice guy, a guy that — from what our interactions had led me to believe — would know the value of trust. And wasn’t that what I’d been looking for?

“I, um, great! Where should I pick you up at?” he asked.

I pulled my surfboard from his grasp, sliding it into the backseat of the car before turning to him. “How about the grille? It’s a good place to meet up since we both know where it is. We can pick a place after that.”

“Great,” he responded. “Say two hours?”

“That will work,” I answered. Two hours was plenty of time for me to get ready.

“Okay, see ya then.” He gave me a smile and a little wave before heading toward his car. I stripped off my wetsuit and grabbed the sundress I used as a cover up, sliding it over my wet bathing suit before climbing into the car, a grin on my face. I was going on a date . . . with Cooper.

Chapter Twelve

Cooper

I rushed home and headed straight for the shower. After washing the salt and sand from every crevice of my body, I found myself doing what I had always imagined women did when getting ready for a first date — I tried on every shirt I had. Jeans were a given, but I had no idea what the plan was, so I had no idea what to wear. I settled on a T-shirt with a button-up layered over top and the sleeves rolled up. If I wasn’t casual enough, I could lose the button-up. In hindsight, I should have just taken the button-up with me, because between being dressed for a date and the excitement that I apparently couldn’t hide from my expression, Mom had cornered me in the living room as I was trying to leave. She didn’t let up until I confessed that I had a date. Then she wanted to know every detail I could think of about the woman who had captured my attention. Mom almost made me late to meet Emma.

Emma, however, wasn’t just right on time, she was early. Already waiting for me at the grille when I arrived. I had to force myself to pay attention to my parking efforts instead of looking at her tan legs, crossed at the ankles as she leaned against her car. Her short sundress was flowing with the breeze coming in off the ocean and her hair brushed across her bare shoulders. I took a deep breath as I put the car in park.

I got out, and she met me a few steps beyond the back of the car. Being more nervous than I thought was probably normal, I wasn’t sure how to greet her. “Hi,” I said as I leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful,” I added, trying to sound casual.

“Thank you,” she responded with a smile. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself.”

“So, where would you like to go eat? I’m totally at your mercy because I don’t have a clue what’s around that might be good.”

She patted her hand on my chest in a reassuring manner. “Don’t you worry, I know just the place. I’ll tell you how to get there.”

“That sounds like a plan.” I walked over and opened the passenger side door for her.

“Is this something I should expect all the time? Southern charm and manners?” she joked.

I offered a half-bow and nodded, then thickened my accent to sound as Southern as I could manage. “Yes, ma’am, it is.” I winked and closed her door before walking over to my side and joining her in the car.

There was no small talk on the way to the restaurant, because it wasn’t too far from the grille. Most of the conversation consisted of Emma telling me where to turn. Less than ten minutes later, I was sitting across from her with a menu in my hands.

I tried not to stare at Emma as I looked at the menu, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest. My first impression of how this date was going was harder to judge than I had hoped it would be. I was struggling to keep my expression casual all the while my nerves were rolling through me like the waves I’d been pounded by all day. The truth was, I still couldn’t believe she’d really said yes to going to dinner with me.

She had chosen a little seafood joint that sat about as close to the beach as was probably allowed by code. We sat alone outdoors on a deck overlooking the ocean, enjoying the cool salty breeze. The sound of the waves crashing ashore and retreating back served as our background music. Even the string lights zigzagging across the ceiling, offering the only light on the deck, were the perfect touch. I admit, I was thankful the place wasn’t too crowded and we had the deck to ourselves. It certainly made the evening feel a little more intimate.

“So what’s good here?” I asked, peering at the menu as if I was actually paying attention to it. I wasn’t. I was taking in my surroundings in an effort not to gawk at the stunning woman sitting across the table from me.

“Anything and everything,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Do you like fish or shrimp?”

“Both,” I answered, looking back down at the menu. “I admit; I have no idea what to order. Why don’t you order for me instead?”

She gave me a funny look, her eyes wide. “You trust me to do something like that?”

“Of course,” I answered, leaning back in my chair. “Why wouldn’t I?”

A huge smile spread over her lips as she eyed me over her menu just as the waitress approached our table. Emma ordered for the both of us, the nightly special, before turning her attention back to me. “So . . . how do you feel? Any side effects from today’s lesson?”

“Well, my arms still feel a little like rubber,” I admitted, thinking I had gotten more of a workout than I had in quite a few months. “I’m going to pay for it in the morning, I’m sure.”

“It can be really good exercise,” Emma replied, fidgeting with her napkin on the table. “And this was a calm day. When the weather is bad, the waves can get pretty rough. I sometimes feel like a sock in a washing machine when I try to surf on those days.”

“How did you get into surfing?” I asked, curious to know how a girl like her picked a hobby such as surfing. “Surely, every Californian isn’t born with a surfboard under their feet.”

She laughed. “Well, just about,” she teased. “No, I got into it after my mom died. I needed something to take my mind off of things. I guess that’s not entirely accurate. My dad decided I needed a hobby to take my mind off of things, so he signed me up for lessons and it just took off from there. I fell in love with it. I’ve loved it ever since.”

She didn’t elaborate on her mom’s death and I didn’t push the topic. The death of a loved one can be difficult enough to deal with and I didn’t want to pry into anything that made her uncomfortable. “How long did it take you to get the hang of standing up on the board?” I asked in a teasing tone, trying to lighten the mood. “I mean, how long do I have to look forward to busting my ass before I nail that one down at least?”

“Oh, I was standing up a lot quicker than you will,” she shot back, a twinkle in her eye.

“Gee, thanks.”

She laughed. “Only because I was a child when I learned. As a child, there is no fear.”

“But as an adult, there’s this thing we like to call breaking limbs and drowning,” I added with a serious tone. “And I have no desire to do either.”

“Well, I guess that gives me something to work with,” she said, struggling to contain her laughter.

I couldn’t contain my grin, enjoying the banter we had going. I hadn’t had much experience with women in general, and while I thought I would be extremely nervous around Emma tonight, considering how my courage was on hiatus when the date began, I found myself relaxed by the conversation and by the company itself. The trip to California was turning out to be a very good thing indeed.

“So, Cooper, tell me a little about yourself,” Emma was saying as our waitress arrived at our table with an impressive mixture of seafood cooked in various forms. “Other than what I already know, of course.”

I took a bite of the delicious blackened fish on my plate and swallowed before I began. “Well, there’s not much to tell.” Granted, there was a lot to tell, but not anything I wanted her to know about just yet, including the money situation I was currently in. Part of me wanted to be completely upfront and honest with her, but after everything I had experienced because of the money, I wanted to keep that information in the background of this relationship or friendship or whatever it was until I knew I could trust Emma totally. I didn’t want any feelings she had for me to be clouded with the thought of my fortune. I just wanted to be liked for me, and I felt like that was exactly what was happening with Emma. I had no intentions of lying to her, but I wasn’t ready to share everything either.

“There’s got to be something,” Emma urged as she took a few bites of her food.

“Well,” I said, racking my brain on what I could tell her. “I want to be an architect one day.” That was safe enough.

“Oh, that’s great,” she replied, taking a bite of her fried shrimp. “Do you want to build buildings or just design them?”

“A little of both,” I supplied, thinking it would be kind of cool to be involved in the process from start to finish. “What about you? What are your burning desires for the future?”

She wiped her mouth and took a sip of her water. “I want to be an accountant. I know it sounds boring, but I actually like playing with numbers.”