“We’re getting to know each other,” Maileah replied carefully.
Skeeter crossed her arms. “Well, don’t let him take forever.”
“We’re getting there,” Maileah said. “He called us perfectly imperfect together. I like that.”
Just then, a noise erupted in the kitchen, and they rushed in. Slushy margarita mix was flung all over the counter and floor.
Skeeter laughed. “Forgot to put the top on the blender again?”
“Something like that,” Sailor said, shaking his head as he mopped up the mess with a dishtowel. Then, he sat back on his heels and laughed at the situation. “I guess no one’s perfect.”
“Even you, bro,” Skeeter said.
“At least you missed the food,” Maileah said, laughing with him. “And I love your imperfections.”
When Sailor looked up and caught her eye, she realized what she’d said. She pressed her fingers to her lips, unsure what to say or how he’d take that. They hadn’t used theloveword between them yet. Had she spoken too soon?
“I, uh, think I need to make a call,” Skeeter said, glancing between them. “Be back in a few minutes.”
Sailor tossed the towel in the sink and turned to her. Drawing a breath, he slid his hand along her arm. “Did I hear that right?”
Feeling heat rising in her cheeks, she nodded. “You did.”
With a lazy smile, he said, “It’s about time.”
“Wait.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Not here, not yet.”
Whatever her overcaffeinated brain had spit out, she had to understand this feeling and become more comfortable with it. Or would her heart always beat stronger around him?
He nodded and drew her fingers to his lips, kissing them between words. “You want…to be sure. I’ll be here.”
Had he just answered her heart’s question? Still, for once, she wouldn’t rush.
Smoothly changing the subject, Sailor said, “We’ve had quite a day. How about margaritas all around?”
“Why not? I don’t have far to walk. Shall I make a salad?”
“Sure. I’ll throw some shrimp and garlic on the grill, too.”
“Sounds good,” Maileah said, trying to seem nonchalant, but her emotions were coursing through her.
While Sailor made another pitcher of frozen margaritas, Skeeter returned with a broad grin and a wink. “It’s getting steamy in here. Let’s eat on the patio.”
“Good idea.” Maileah picked up a tray and loaded food and utensils on it.
With cool margaritas in hand, they sat outside around the table talking about the success of Maileah’s video campaign.
“And that’s not all,” she added, telling Skeeter about the auction for broken boards. “Some will be painted, and others signed.” As she spoke, she had the feeling that everything in her life was finally on an upward trend. All she had to do was keep it moving in that direction.
When they were cleaning up, Sailor asked, “Who wants to catch some waves with me in the morning?”
Skeeter flicked a look in his direction. “I brought my gear, but I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“We’re not competing; we’re only going to paddle around. Maileah, you did well in that lesson you took. Come join us.”
“That sounds like fun. Then we can fire up that fancy coffee machine afterward.” Maileah couldn’t do much more than paddle around, but she would rise before dawn to lend Skeeter moral support.
“Alright,” Skeeter said, letting out a breath.
