Rogue Wave, Isabel Jolie [ink ebook reader .TXT] 📗

she pays me. But this is a chance for me to build up my own portfolio, so I can take on other projects of my own.”

“I thought you have a job. As a scientist?”

“I do. But a lot of what I do is at night right now. And it’s pretty flexible, anyway, so I have some extra time. Plus, Alice asked me to help you. And I’d do anything in the world for her. So, it’s for Alice, really. Not you.”

“At night? You watch the nests,” I said, answering my own question, dazed.

She nodded with a smile. “I can’t wait to get started. I can go home and get my notepad. Bring over some samples. Oh, and Adrian, I’ll bring by a sample of that flooring,” she said, acting as if it was a done deal. Like she’d waltz right in and take the lead.

“Tate.”

“What?”

“I go by Tate.” She stepped forward, close enough that her coconut scent overpowered the stench of my sweat. I allowed myself one deep inhale, then backed up before she regretted standing so close to me. “I think you need to focus on the turtles.”

Chapter 6

Luna

The ocean waves rolled in, tranquil, low, and calm. The sun shone over the smooth waves, shimmering like stardust. I straddled my board, legs dangling in the warm Atlantic, lost in my thoughts, barely registering the families filling the beach as the sun rose higher in the sky. Without waves to catch, my mind wandered to our island newcomer.

Hooks for surfboards hung on the wall of his porch. It wasn’t a stretch to think he surfed. After all, his grandmother did. There weren’t many surfers out today. The surfing school that set up near Access 42 rescheduled morning lessons for later in the day, hoping for better waves. I scanned the beach, searching for him. Anyone who knew the island and wanted to surf would come here, to the east side.

Another surfer straddled his board, far off in the distance. Too far for me to make out his facial features. He appeared out of nowhere, and I stared, snapped out of my reverie, thinking it might be him. My fingers tingled, tempted to paddle closer. Tate’s attitude made it clear he had no interest in me, but that kind of made him more intriguing. The fallout from my last relationship made me a little gun-shy on relationships. But I had no problem crushing on a guy. Being on the lookout for a particular someone added a layer of excitement to the day.

A figure on the beach waved an arm back and forth while jumping up and down. I waved back and paddled in.

“No waves today, huh?” Poppy asked as I scooped to lift my board beneath my arm.

“Yeah. But we’ve had several good days in a row. It’s the way it goes.”

Poppy pointed at the unidentifiable surfer. “Is that the new guy?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

“Do you want to go down and see?”

“No.” How foolish would we look, gawking from the shore?

“But he might need your help on the house. He’s a potential client.”

I dropped my board onto the sand and wiped my face with the towel. I folded my towel and readied my beach bag. Once I had everything ready to go, I opened up, letting my excitement ooze out slowly in a controlled manner, like steam drifting from a teapot.

“He does need my help.”

“You talked to him?” Poppy squeaked.

“Yes. I stopped by. I told him I’d be happy to help. He doesn’t seem to really want my help. Maybe he’s one of those guys who doesn’t like help from a woman or something? I’m not sure. But he needs my help. His cottage is a full project. And he has zero renovation expertise.”

“So, wait, what’s he like?”

“He worked for Greenpeace. And he’s a marine biologist.”

“Oh, my god! It’s kismet.”

“I don’t know about that,” I told her, even though I absolutely loved that Poppy had the same thoughts I had. Two marine biologists living on the same small island. What were the odds? “But I’m going to help him with his house if I can.”

“Oh, I think you’ll help him with his house, all right.” She pushed on my side, and I shoved her back.

“He’s cute. That’s for sure. But he gave no signs of interest. Which is fine. It’s not like I’m boyfriend shopping.”

“Uh-huh. What thirty-five-year-old wouldn’t want to go for a twenty-two-year-old surfer girl?”

“You think he’s that old?” The tattoos and the longish hair had had me thinking younger.

“Yeah, I’d say so. I mean, he doesn’t have a dad bod, and his hair gives him a younger vibe. But, as you know, I have experience with older men. It’s the lines around the eyes. And the hairline that’s a tad bit higher. Gives the age away.”

“He’s very serious.” He could be older. Not that age was an issue, but I’d hoped he’d be more like me, maybe open to having fun. Nothing too serious. I didn’t have any experience with older guys, so I didn’t know how they worked. But the last thing I wanted was another Brandon situation.

“He’s an older dude. He doesn’t have the baby-smooth face of someone just out of college.”

“You’re an expert on judging age now?”

“Yes. I look at photos of men all the time. Admittedly, half the time I don’t think the men are posting real pics of themselves, but you know, when they send something other than a dick pic, you kind of study the photo. I mean, I do. You’re sitting there texting them…” She paused as I stared. “What?”

“Are you, like, doing sexting?”

“No. Well…maybe kind of. With some clients. You said you don’t judge.”

“I don’t. I’m not.” We reached my golf cart, and she helped me lift the board onto the top and strap it. “Hey, I love you no matter what. I’m only trying to better understand. As for Tate, no matter how old he is, he told me to focus on the turtles. At