Page 28 of Every Summer Since

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“Nope. I think he was relieved she left him. He was a shit husband and barely a father. He doesn’t have anything to do with the kids.”

“Asshole.”

“Yep.”

“What about you?” he finally asked. “You seeing anyone?”

I didn’t smile, but somewhere deep down I was doing a little fist pump. “No,” I said. “I like things just the way they are.”

I wasn’t going to tell him I hadn’t seriously dated anyone since he left four years ago. Bodhi was a casual boyfriend that only lasted a few months. That had been about me needing to feel like a normal person. Bodhi wasn’t Colt. No man had ever and would likely never measure up to him.

But he doesn’t have to know that.

“What about you?” I asked. “Is there a Mrs. Anderson back home?”

He grinned. “There are several Mrs. Andersons, but none of them are my wife.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m married to my work,” he replied. “Charlie got married a couple years back. He’s a dad now. The old farm is better for it.”

“Good for him.”

It wasn’t terrible spending time with him, but it was dangerous. I didn’t want to risk catching feelings for him. Not that I’d ever been cured of that particular affliction.

“I didn’t see a car up there,” I said.

“Walked and then floated,” he said.

“Wow. Ambitious.”

“I wasn’t sure I could find the place if I drove,” he said. “And my dad would kill me if I put a surfboard in his car.”

“I’m heading home,” I said.

We made our way to shore and climbed out of the water. I carried my board up to my truck and slid it in the back. Colt stood there watching me. I grabbed my joggers out of my bag and pulled them on.

When I turned, he was still watching me. I sighed. “Put it in.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Come again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Your board. Put your board in the back. We’re going to the same place, right?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

I should have made him walk. It built character. That was something Dad used to say to us all the time. I could feel the salt caked in my hair and on my skin.

I pulled out two bottles of water from the case I always kept on the floorboard. I handed one to him and twisted the cap on mine. I gulped down half the bottle.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Gotta stay hydrated.”

It was full dark and we were alone in a spot we had spent hours together. Doing things I didn’t want to think about. Not true. I wanted to think about those things but preferably when I was alone in my room. I didn’t want him to know I was thinking about those times. The kisses. Naked bodies sliding against each other. That one time we went skinny dipping. More like naked surfing.

“Let’s go,” I snapped.

I got into the driver’s seat and started the truck. He climbed into the passenger seat and gave me a sideways look. I knew that look.