The Wrong Mr. Right: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Romance (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 2)

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 the nine o’clock 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. When Thérèse returned, 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 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.”

I nodded. Right. Okay. One step at a time. Right now, I was putting on the wetsuit. I wasn’t surfing or getting thrown face first into the ocean or getting eaten by a whale. I wasn’t coughing up seawater or heaving for breath. I was just putting on a wetsuit.

I turned at the door. “I don’t see what surfing has to do with being a hot girl—”

“My. Rules.”

“Okay, okay.” I spun around again and stepped into the little building. It was dark without the lights on, and I found a small room that looked like it was for changing. I pulled on my swimsuit, a navy-blue one-piece with a front that dipped too low for my taste and cut-outs along the side. Avery made me buy it last year and I’d never worn it. I wished I had something more practical but this was the only suit I owned, and it wasn’t like I had a lot of time to prepare.

With some effort, I pulled the bottom half of the wetsuit on. The fabric was thick, spongy, and I wondered how many people had peed in this suit. How often did they clean them?

Nope, not worrying, I told myself. Just going to go outside. That was the next step.

“Well, look at you.” Wyatt gave me a lopsided grin and straightened up. His gaze flicked down to the low neckline of my suit and my face heated immediately. He spun his finger in the air. “Turn.”

I gave him my back and slid my arms into the suit. He pulled it closed at the back, not roughly or forcefully but with authority. Like he’d done this a hundred times. Like he didn’t want to wait for me. Like he was in charge.

My skin tingled with awareness, but I ignored it.

He pulled the zipper up quickly and I wondered what it would be like in reverse, Wyatt yanking the zipper down as fast as he could, impatient to get it off me.

My face burned. I couldn’t turn around now, blushing like this.

I swallowed and thought about the frigid water around the corner that I would soon be stepping into. There. That was helping.

I hoped these fantasies about Wyatt would go away. Maybe the more I got to know him, the more my body would realize what my brain already knew, that Wyatt was all wrong for me.

“Leave your glasses here.” Wyatt hopped down the steps and strode across the gravel the same way I’d arrived before disappearing around the corner of the surf shop. I watched his tall, lean form, hypnotized with the fluid way he moved, before I set my glasses on the side of the step and hurried after him. I couldn’t see very well without them, but I could still make out his form in front of me, moving across the sand with enthusiasm and long strides.

Two boards lay on the sand near the shore. I automatically stood near the smaller, sleeker board. The other one was huge and all banged up with marks and scratches.

“No way.” He shook his head and gestured for me to stand near the bigger board. “You get the crappy starter board today, bookworm.” He crouched near the bigger board, pointed at a strap of velcro tethered to the bottom and gestured for me to come forward. “This is your leash,” he told me, and he undid the velcro before fastening it around my ankle. One of his hands encircled my ankle and the warm contact of his skin shocked me.

If he ran that warm, no wonder the guy was always shirtless.

The contact ended before my thought did and he strode over to fasten his own leash before he lay down on his front on the board, head up and watching the ocean.

“This is the ready position.” He tilted his chin at me, gesturing for me to do the same. “Come on.”

I matched his position on my own board.

He braced his palms on the board beside his shoulders. “If you see a wave coming that you want to take a bite out of, you’re going to hop up on your board like this.” He sprung up so he stood in a balanced crouch before he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Your turn.”

I copied his actions, but there was no way I made it look as easy as he did. I looked like a drunk baby deer, stumbling around and trying to find my balance.

He glanced at my legs. “Bend your knees more.” He nodded when I did. “Good. Okay.” He shrugged. “And then you try to stay on your board and ride the wave.”

I blinked at him. “It’s that easy?”

That lazy grin returned. “It’s not, but it’s something you learn by doing.” He stepped off the board and picked it up, tucking it under his arm. “Let’s go.” He began to jog to the ocean.

Alarm shot through me. “Wait!” I called after him. “I’m not ready.”

“You’ll never be ready, bookworm,” he called back before wading into the water. “Come on.”

He started paddling, and I watched his blurry form cut through the water. It was like the ocean drew him forward.

The board was lighter than I expected, but the water was as cold as I anticipated. I winced and inhaled sharply. Gentle waves rolled in, and I followed Wyatt deeper and deeper until he paused and waited for me, lying on his board—no, lounging on his board. It was like he was lying on the couch.

He watched with amusement as I made a few failed attempts to lie on the board. It was trickier on the water, and the board kept moving under me. My face flushed with embarrassment. Finally, I managed to lie on the board. When I started to float away from him, he reached out and held my board, anchoring me to him.

“We’re going to paddle. Do what I do, okay?”

I nodded, swallowing, and he let go of my board before he paddled further out against the waves, muscular arms dipping into the water to propel him forward.

Just like that, I told myself. Just paddling. Easy peasy.

It was not easy peasy. My arms burned, but my pride wouldn’t let me call it quits. The water grew darker as I swam further out, and I tried not to think about what lurked underneath and how my feet wouldn’t touch the bottom if I fell off my board. I worked harder to stay close to Wyatt. Every few strokes he glanced over his shoulder to make sure I was near. Even without my glasses, I could see the guy was hardly breaking a sweat. Me, on the other hand, I breathed hard and my muscles burned, even the ones in my legs that I didn’t think were working. My abs hurt already.

The area we paddled to wasn’t as calm as where we started. The waves were bigger out here, picking me up and dropping me as they passed. I swallowed and my pulse beat in my ears from the exercise and nerves. My board tipped with a passing wave and I nearly fell off, wobbling and clinging to it hard.

I had to work hard to keep my balance lying down. What would standing up be like?

As if he read my thoughts, Wyatt stopped paddling, reached out for my board and steered it so we both had our backs to the wave.

I looked over my shoulder with alarm at the approaching wave. “What are you doing?”

He shot me a challenging grin. “Here you go, bookworm. Your first wave.”

I shook my head vehemently. “No. I’m not ready.”

He nodded. “Sure you are. Get in the ready position.”

My hands came to the board at my hips without my permission. It was like his words had authority over my body. Traitorous hands. Wyatt did the same over on his board. I drifted away from him. My heart beat in my ears. I shook my head at him, fear pounding in my ears, and he nodded back at me with bright eyes.

The wave was right behind us.

“Start paddling,” he said, and began to propel himself forward.

“What?” I called after him. “You didn’t tell me this part!” I tried to follow him but he was too fast.

The water crested around me. Was this the part where I was supposed to assume the ready position or get up? I placed my hands on either side of my hips, about to pop up on my board but before I could, the wave knocked me off, face first into the water.

My nose burned as my head submerged, and my eyes stung. I hated getting water in my eyes. My chest heaved with a cough and I inhaled a mouthful of water. My leash tugged on my ankle and a moment later, the board bonked me on the back of the head—a stark reminder that I didn’t know what the hell was I was doing.

I wrenched my burning eyes open above the surface and took a breath as another wave crashed into my face, sending even more water up my nose.

A firm hand wrapped around my upper arm, hauled me up onto my board with ease, and I crumpled onto it, coughing and sputtering.

“Nice work,” Wyatt crowed. He paddled us single-handed into a nearby cove, where it was calmer, while gripping my board.

I blinked at him with a frown. “Are you making fun of me?”

He laughed. “Of course not. You’re doing great.”

I spat more salty water back into the ocean and coughed again. My eyes watered. “Wyatt, I hate to be rude, but you’re a terrible surf instructor.”

He laughed and continued paddling. “You’re on an accelerated curriculum.”

My mouth fell open and I tried to sit up on my board. It rocked with my teetering weight and I slipped back under the water.

When I re-emerged, I shot him a glare. “What lesson did I just learn?”

His teeth flashed with a grin. “That was your first bail. Not so bad, right?”

Unbelievable. “Are you kidding me? Yes, it was so bad. You dragged me out here in the middle of the night to humiliate me.”

He shook his head. “When we come back out next time, you won’t be as afraid of falling off your board.” He took in the sky, a clear, light blue, dotted with a few clouds over the forest. “And now that you’ve worked for it, you can enjoy the view.”

We floated on our boards, listening to the sound of the waves behind us on the shore. Two seagulls bobbed in the water nearby, ignoring us. My feet were frozen solid, and I wiggled them to get my circulation moving.

Beside me, Wyatt studied the sky with a wistful expression. That playful smirk of his was gone, replaced with a calm, thoughtful look.

“Do you come out here every day?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. One with the ocean, and all that.”

He smiled to himself. “I wouldn’t say I’m one with it. The ocean is like this huge, unpredictable monster that could kill us at any time.”

“What?” My eyes widened, and I glanced down at the water around us. I couldn’t see further than a couple feet beneath the surface. Panic hit my bloodstream. “What do you mean, kill us? Like, sharks?” I pictured the scene from Jaws where the shark hoisted himself into the boat.

Wyatt nodded. “Yep, there are sharks out here. Sometimes when we’re paddling, the silhouette of us on our boards looks like a seal to them.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Dinner.”

“Dinner?” My voice squeaked and that mischievous grin returned to Wyatt’s face.

“I’m teasing you, bookworm.” His teeth flashed. “There have been sightings of great whites but only a few. If you see a shark, it’s likely a salmon shark, not a great white.”

“Do those bite?”

“Everything bites if it’s in the right situation.” He must have seen the terror on my face. “It’s rare. Sharks don’t go around looking for a fight like a drunk gym bro at a bar. They mind their own business. Like you and I.”

In the small cove, the water was so calm and still. I swallowed and studied the surface of the water.

“This is so dangerous.” I shook my head at him before tilting my head at the waves. “Some of those waves are huge. You could get hurt. You could drown.”

He laughed easily and shrugged. “You could get hit by a car tomorrow. One of the bookcases in your shop could fall over and crush you to death. The Big One could wipe out the entire town.” The Big One was the earthquake the West Coast was due for. Our side of Vancouver Island was unprotected, hence the surfing. Every year, the entire town did a drill when the sirens went off. In the event of a big earthquake, every resident knew to get to higher ground before the massive tidal wave hit.

Wyatt was right. Death was around every corner. My mom had thought she had her whole life in front of her. My throat was tight as I swallowed, staring at the board in front of me. I traced the scratches with my fingernail.

“Why not enjoy what we have while it’s here,” Wyatt said, quieter this time. “Here for a good time, not for a long time.”

We floated on the water for a few more minutes until Wyatt noticed my teeth chattering and suggested we paddle back in.

“I’ll bring the wetsuit booties for you next time,” he called over his shoulder. “They’ll keep your feet warm but they make it harder to grip the board.”

We were halfway to shore when something grabbed my ankle. My head whipped around and all I could see without my glasses was dark movement in the water.

“Shark!” I shrieked and jerked my ankle, flailing and splashing in the water. “It’s a shark!”

I slipped off my board and my head dunked under the surface. Water rushed up my nose and I coughed and swallowed a mouthful.

Wyatt was suddenly next to me. His arm wrapped around my waist and he yanked me towards him. “It’s seaweed, Hannah.” He held me against his chest as I thrashed, and with his other hand, he tried to pull whatever it was off me.

“Seaweed?” I gasped, still coughing and heaving breaths. My pulse pounded in my ears.

He lifted the slimy green bundle out of the water and tossed it a few feet away. My pulse slowed a few notches. He was still holding me against his hard chest.

This was nice.

“Just seaweed. Relax.” His voice was calm and low. I nodded, and my pulse returned to normal. “That’s one way to wake the sharks up.” He flashed me a roguish grin and I made a weird sound in my throat, like a growl. He laughed and let me go, holding my board so I could hoist myself back up.

Back on shore, we walked our boards across the sand, back to the shop. He had undone the top half of his wetsuit before we even left the water and it hung from his waist. His back muscles were on full display, and I tried not to ogle.

“If I wasn’t here, how long would you stay out?” I was out of breath from paddling.

He smiled to himself. “A couple hours. Until I got hungry.” He set his board down in front of the shop and pointed beside it. “You can leave the board here.”

Once my board was on the ground, something tugged on the back of my wetsuit and I heard the zzzzt of the zipper. Cold air rushed in.

“Thanks.” Wyatt was basically undressing me. I had a swimsuit on underneath; it wasn’t like he was unzipping my dress or something.

With a quick flash of the look he had given me at Avery’s wedding, his heated gaze skimmed down my form. My cheeks flushed.

“You can leave the suit to dry on the back patio,” he told me over his shoulder, walking down the beach. He lived in a small house in that direction. “Good work today, bookworm.”

Without my glasses, I could only see his form move as he walked with athletic ease, in control of his entire body.

That was it? “Wait. Aren’t you supposed to give me homework or something?”

All I had done today was paddle and get water up my nose. I wasn’t any closer to being a hot girl.

He turned, walking backwards. “Homework? Not really my style, but okay. Um.” He rubbed his jaw. “Ask ten guys out.”

Another shot of panic through my stomach. “What?!” My voice sounded like I had inhaled helium. “I can’t do that. That’s like half of Queen’s Cove.”

“Sure, you can. It’s way less dangerous than surfing.” He waved and turned. “Same time Friday.”

Ten guys? No. No, no, no. I didn’t ask guys out. I had never asked a guy out. I hadn’t even flirted with a guy. I didn’t know how to. That was why I was here in the first place, so Wyatt could teach me all those things.

He clearly didn’t understand what my goals were.

“You’re supposed to help me get a haircut and pick out better clothes!” I called back in desperation. “Not make me look like a fool.”

“My rules,” he called back.

I made a noise of anguish and headed to the back of the shop, where I yanked off my suit and hung it on the railing. Inside, I crept into the bathroom to change out of my wet swimsuit, and nearly gasped when I put my glasses back on and peered into the mirror.

I looked feral. My waterproof mascara? Not waterproof. My eyes were ringed in black smudges. My hair was a knotted mess, half wet, half dry. The salty ocean water had made it frizzy and poofy. My face was still flushed from talking to a member of the opposite sex for so long.

Wyatt must have thought this was hilarious, me wanting to be a hot girl. I swallowed and wiped off the mascara smudges with toilet paper. I didn’t want to think about it too hard, because if I did, I would come to the conclusion that I was the joke. A meek little bookworm, wanting to be someone else. I couldn’t even stand up on my board. I’d seen tourists surfing small waves within an hour of their first lesson and all I could do was scream and inhale a face full of water.

I blew a breath out. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

On my way home, my body replayed Wyatt pulling me against his chest. My stomach rolled. He was so warm and solid.

So I fell off my board. I got water in my brain and thought a piece of seaweed was a great white shark. I tried something new today. That’s what hot girls did. Thérèse wouldn’t let one bad day get her down.

I was one step closer.