The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 2)

“IF HE’S NOT HERE in five minutes, he’s disqualified,” the organizer said to a guy holding a clipboard.

The ocean was calm for this time of day. No wind, clean waves, the kind I sought out at sunrise or sunset. Spectators packed the beach, both tourists and residents of Queen’s Cove. Everyone came out to see some of the best surfers in the world attempt to work with the ocean.

“I’m here.” My pulse beat in my ears from the sprint. Ten minutes ago, I had been on the highway, praying no cops were out with their radar guns. The figurine of me as a merman, the one Hannah bought for me, danced and bounced from the rearview mirror while I drove. There was a delay with the ferry so I was cutting it close for time.

I had parked in front of the surf shop, grabbed my board and wetsuit, and gunned it here. I wasn’t sure where my car keys were. The truck might still be running.

The organizer shook his head before walking away. The guy with the clipboard signed me in.

I had left my aunt’s place early enough this morning to catch the first ferry to the island, and then it was a three-hour drive from there from Victoria to Queen’s Cove. I told myself that it didn’t matter if I missed the final heat of the competition, that I had probably secured sponsorship already, and I could try again next year.

I wanted to finish this, though. This had been weighing on me all year, and I wanted to fight it. I wanted to make myself proud.

And I wanted to make Hannah proud. She had put a lot of work into my social media accounts, and I wanted to follow through. She’d made me so proud these past few months, slaying her own demons, and I wanted to do the same.

It was her birthday today. If things went right later, this was only the first birthday we’d spend together. My gaze swept over the crowd, searching for her before I stepped into the water.

I shifted my board as I waded into the water. My chest ached every time I thought of her, every time I saw her face in my head. I paddled to my spot behind the break and remembered all the times we had spent out here together.

“Wyatt Rhodes, Queen’s Cove, Canada,” the announcer said over the speaker system and the spectators cheered loud enough for me to hear all the way out in the water.

Some things never changed. This town took care of its own.

I inhaled a deep breath, centering myself. The ocean lifted me as the waves rolled past. The cold water bit at my toes and fingers. Hannah flashed into my head, laying on her board with her eyes closed, soaking up the morning sun while her hair floated in the water around her head like a halo. I didn’t push the image out, and I didn’t cling to it. I let it stay where it was, noticed the sharp pang in my chest, and was grateful that I had experienced it at all.

A wave approached and I began to paddle. Everything went silent. Hannah hung around in the back of my head as I paddled harder and snapped up on my board at the right second. I shot forward on the water, balancing on my board and riding the wave, my heart beating out of my chest, the thundering sound of the wave in my ears. The flecks of water on my face. I crouched low on the board, skimming the surface, and my heart soared.

Two more times, I did this, this incredible thing that I never got used to. I left the beach in awe of the ocean, how it granted me the opportunity and interaction. I would soon do this for a living, if the sponsorship went through. Overwhelming gratitude flooded my chest.

And if it didn’t work out, a life here, surfing every morning, with Hannah at my side if she’d have me? That wasn’t so bad.

It was a fucking dream.

People clapped me on the back, shook my hand, and congratulated me but my head whipped around as I searched for her. Emmett said something to me but I barely heard him.

Hannah. I had to find Hannah.

The crowd thinned as everyone headed to the street festival over on Main Street. That bright blonde hair was nowhere to be seen, and disappointment streaked through my gut.

She might be at her bookstore. I’d stash my stuff and go find her. This wasn’t over until I’d said what I needed to say.

I was storing my board at the shop when the door opened.

“No lessons for today,” I called over my shoulder, securing the board in the back of the shop. “Beaches are closed today, but we can book you in for tomorrow.”

“That would be great.”

My heart shot into my throat at the sound of her voice and I stepped into the doorway. She stood at the front door looking like a fucking dream, in the blue and white linen dress.

I stared at her, heart racing.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, her hands twisting together in front of her. She took a step forward. “I freaked out, and it had nothing to do with you. Actually,” she winced, “that’s not true, it had everything to do with you. I had this picture of what I wanted.” She shook her head. “I was so wrong, Wyatt. I was wrong about everything. I was wrong about you, I was wrong about the stupid birthday goals, I was wrong about trying to make my mom proud.” She clenched her eyes closed for a brief moment. “All wrong.”

The hope in my chest was like a bubble. It could pop at any second, and it would hurt all over again.

But avoiding it wouldn’t prevent that hurt, I reminded myself.

“My dad signed the store over to me.” Her voice was a wobbly whisper.

“What?!” I let out a laugh of surprise.

She nodded with her mouth pressed firm into a line. “Liya is going to be the manager. I spoke to her this morning and promoted her. And we decided to make Casey full time.” Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath and she watched me. “I’m going to run as much of the business as I can remotely.”

“Remotely,” I repeated.

One corner of my heart lifted but I waited.

“Remotely.” She pressed her mouth together in a line and twisted her hands again. “I’m coming with you if the offer still stands. Wherever you go, I want to be there too, because I love you. And I’m in love with you. I lied when I said you were my practice guy.” Her face crumpled. “That was a terrible, terrible lie, and I said it because I wanted to make it sound like you didn’t mean anything but you do.” Her gaze lifted to me, pained and full of affection. “You mean everything to me. I want to be brave with you.”

“You mean everything to me, bookworm.” My words were soft but immediate. Instinctive. “The offer still stands.”

She nodded and a tiny smile appeared on her mouth. “The offer still stands?”

This feeling in my chest? This consuming, expanding, squeezing pressure outwards like I was about to explode like a supernova? This was what it was all about. This made it all worth it.

Lay it all out on the line, I told myself. I drew myself up and took a deep breath.

“Yep.” I took a step forward. “Before I tell you how much I love you, before I tell you that you are the love of my fucking life and that you’re a part of me, I want to tell you that I realized something.”

“Okay.” Her voice was quiet and tentative. “Go on.”

“I knew everything was temporary, and I used that to keep myself back from all the good things. You said everything you knew was wrong? Well, me too, bookworm.”

I walked over to her and put my hands on her upper arms. The warmth of her skin was heaven. I could smell her shampoo and it made my chest ache again.

“When things were too good, when I was too happy, I reminded myself it wouldn’t last so it wouldn’t hurt when it was gone.” I gazed down into her eyes and nearly laughed at how I could ever think this was temporary. Her name was tattooed on the inner walls of my heart. “But it didn’t help one bit. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, too.”

I took another step into her space, studying the amber flecks in her eyes while my hands brushed her arms. “I love you. I should have said it instead of ‘come with me.’ I love you and I want you forever.”

She nodded with a watery smile. Her hands came to my waist. “I love you, too.”

I pulled her to me and kissed the love of my life.