The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(10)

This was a side of Hannah I had never seen before. Ballsy. She stared me down, forcing me to help her.

I weighed my options. I didn’t care that much if everyone found out about the video. It had paid my way to a surf festival in Australia, and I didn’t regret doing it.

She shifted again. Her resolve waned. I could see the cracks in whatever tough front she had put on today. She was about to fold, walk away, and never mention this again.

For some reason, this version of her intrigued me, and I wanted to see more.

Handing my social media over to someone would be a relief. All I had to do was give her a few gentle shoves out of her comfort zone.

“Alright, bookworm.” I took a few slow steps toward her, watching her closely. Her expression changed from defiant to shocked.

“Alright?” She blinked. “Really?”

I nodded, stepping even closer. “Mhm. On one condition.”

She bit her lip and her gaze rose to mine. “What’s that?”

“You have to do everything I say.” My voice was low.

She swallowed. “Everything?”

“Everything.” I shot her a lazy smile. “You’ll always be safe, but you’re not allowed to be a chicken anymore.”

“Not allowed to be a chicken anymore,” she repeated to herself. She nodded again. An internal battle warred in her head. “Yes. Yes. Okay.” She stuck her hand out and met my gaze, chin set again in that determined way.

A handshake? Adorable. I took her soft hand in mine and shook. My chest felt funny. Excited, filled with anticipation.

“Meet me here tomorrow at five thirty.”

Her mouth made an O. “The bookstore doesn’t close until six.”

I headed back to the shop. “Five thirty in the morning,” I called over my shoulder. “Bring your swimsuit.”

Her eyes flared with alarm, and she opened her mouth to protest but I stepped inside before she could say anything.

My day just got a lot more interesting.





4





Hannah





My feet crunched on the gravel beside the surf shop, and I glanced over my shoulder at the trees. The sky was a dim gray, and nervous anticipation bubbled in my stomach.

My eyes were dry. I had barely slept. I hadn’t been up this early since high school, when our history class took a day trip to Victoria to visit a Titanic exhibit at the museum. I often stayed up late reading, rolled out of bed, and headed straight to the bookshop for nine o’clock to open. I still stayed up late reading last night. I couldn’t help myself.

What was I doing here? Alarm whistled through my veins. I had replayed yesterday’s conversation with Wyatt a thousand times. I couldn’t believe I actually went through with it.

I couldn’t believe he said yes. Half of me expected him to laugh in my face.

Excitement shivered through me. If anyone was going to make me into a hot girl, it would be him. I’d get the bookstore finances in order, I’d find my true love, and in six months I’d be out for dinner, sitting across from the guy I’d spend the rest of my life with. He’d be leaning on the table, watching me the way Emmett watched Avery. Thérèse would return and she wouldn’t recognize me.

I bit my lip. I couldn’t wait.

Wyatt waited for me at the back of the shop. The top half of his wetsuit dangled at his waist, his arms crossed over his bare chest, and he leaned against the railing. Upon seeing me, he straightened up.

“What took you so long, bookworm?” He didn’t sound mad, though. He tossed me a wetsuit that had been hanging over the railing. “This will be your size. Suit up and let’s go.”

I froze. “Um. Go where?”

A lazy smile grew on his face. “Where do you think? We’re surfing.”

Oh, how I wished someone would take a picture of my incredulous expression in that moment. “I can’t… surf, Wyatt. I read and sell books. That’s all I do.”

He let out a short laugh. “I know you can’t surf.” He shot me a quick wink and my stomach flipped. “I happen to be a surf instructor.”

He waited while I stared at the limp wetsuit with horror.

“But it’ll be cold.”

He nodded. “Yep. Really cold. That’s why I’m wearing a suit too.”

The thought of the frigid ocean hitting my toes made me want to turn around and go home. I didn’t do outdoor things. I used to camp with my parents, but we hadn’t gone since my mom had passed. I didn’t swim in the ocean because it was too cold most of the year. Sometimes I’d put my feet in and walk along the shore.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea anymore.

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Wyatt said, tilting his head to watch me, and I wondered how many of my thoughts he could see.

He glanced at the sky, a couple shades lighter than when I arrived, and blew out an impatient breath. “Look, bookworm, I’m itching to get out there so it’s now or never. My rules, remember?”

I nodded. “Your rules. Okay.” I reached for the wetsuit. “How do I…?” I looked up at him, unsure of the next step.

He pointed to the back door and placed a hand on my shoulder, guiding me inside. His warmth zinged me through my sweater. “You can change inside, there’s no one in there. Put your swimsuit on and step into the wetsuit, I’ll help you zip it up out here.”