Page 37 of Guys Can’t Write Romance

Chapter twenty-six

Someone to Catch Me

Daisy awoke that morning with the same ache in her heart that she’d felt on this day for the past three years.

It was the anniversary of her dad’s passing, and for a brief moment, she considered texting Chad with some lame excuse to cancel her surf lesson for that morning.

She finally decided to just go through with it.

With the way he had described surfing to her on that morning at the beach, it sounded like it might be fun.

Besides, if anyone could make her smile and snap her out of her morose, it would be Chad.

After grabbing a piece of toast, she slid into a sensible one-piece swimsuit.

Before pulling a pair of shorts on over it, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror on her closet door, surprising herself at how exposed and self-conscious she suddenly felt.

It wasn’t that she thought she looked bad — she was slim, with nice tone in her legs from her workouts with Chloe — but she was definitely lacking in the tan department.

She caught herself wondering what Chad’s reaction was going to be when he saw this much of her.

She packed her beach survival kit of sunscreen, shades, and a towel in her bag and headed from her room.

As she passed the photos on the hallway wall, she stopped in front of the one of her dad.

He looked so strong and handsome in his Army uniform, and yet had been so kind and protective of her and her mom.

Always there to catch her when she fell, and put her back on her feet.

He had been orderly like her, and probably would have thrown a grenade into Chad’s messy apartment to put it out of its misery; but she had no doubt that he was smiling down from Heaven at how protective Chad was of his little girl.

She kissed her fingers and touched them to the picture.

“I miss you, Dad.”

The morning mist hung low over Venice Beach, painting everything in soft grays and silvers. At 7 AM, the usual crowd of tourists and bodybuilders was still hours away, leaving only a handful of dedicated surfers, early joggers, and one very nervous first-grade teacher standing at the water’s edge.

Daisy hugged her arms around herself, eyeing the surfboard stuck upright in the sand like it might bite her. She had her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, and enough sunscreen on to protect a family of four. But she still hadn’t mustered up the courage to take off her shorts and T-shirt.

“You look like you’re about to face a firing squad,” Chad said, stepping up beside her with two cups of coffee. He wore board shorts and nothing else, his bare chest still slightly damp from an earlier swim. Not that Daisy was looking or anything.

Daisy accepted the coffee gratefully, surprised at the warmth that spread through her chest when she took a sip and found that he had prepared it exactly the way she liked — one sugar, splash of cream. “Is it that obvious that I’m terrified?”

“Only to someone who’s seen that exact expression on a hundred first-timers.” He nudged her shoulder playfully. “Relax, Fields. I’m not gonna let you drown.”

“It’s not drowning I’m worried about,” Daisy muttered, taking another sip of the coffee. “It’s public humiliation. Or sharks. Or public humiliation while being eaten by sharks.”

Chad laughed, the sound comforting and reassuring in the quiet morning. “First, there hasn’t been a shark attack here in decades. Second, there’s no one around to witness any potential humiliation. And third, sharks hate the taste of first-grade teachers. Too much chalk in their fingernails.”

Despite herself, Daisy smiled. “You’re making that up.”

“Probably,” Chad admitted with a grin. “But it got you to smile, which was the whole point. You ready to get started?”

She took a breath. “Yeah.”

She set down her bag and slid out of her T-shirt and shorts, carefully placing them in the bag to avoid getting them sandy. As she turned to face Chad, any insecurities she had earlier that morning about Chad seeing her in a swimsuit vanished.

“Wow!” he stammered, and the admiration in his eyes was almost comical. He was like a teenage boy seeing a girl for the first time. “That just made waking up this early worth it.”

Despite the slight chill in the air, a warmth filled her cheeks. “No making me blush this early,” she said with a smile. And she loved Chad all the more for making her smile twice already that morning; the day when she never smiled.

Chad pulled his surfboard from the sand and laid it flat on the beach. The board was longer and wider than what Chad usually rode, a beginner’s board he’d borrowed from a friend.

“Okay, Fields, surfing 101,” he announced, patting the board. “Before we hit the water, we practice on land. Lie down, belly on the board, just like you’re paddling.”

Daisy looked dubiously at the sand-covered board, then at her clean swimsuit.

“Come on, neat freak,” Chad teased. “A little sand never hurt anyone.”

With a sigh, Daisy carefully positioned herself on the board, stretching out as Chad had demonstrated.

“Good,” he said, walking around to examine her form. “Arch your back a little more… yeah, like that. Feet together, toes pointed.”

His hands made small adjustments to her position, gentle but confident touches that sent unexpected shivers up her spine despite the morning chill.

“Now for the pop-up,” Chad continued, oblivious to her reaction. “When you feel the wave catch, you’re going to push up with your arms, like a cobra pose in yoga, then in one smooth motion, bring your feet under you. Right foot forward, since you’re regular-footed.”

Daisy frowned. “How do you know I’m regular-footed?”

“You lead with your right when you walk,” Chad shrugged. “I notice things.”

Of course he did. For someone who presented himself as easygoing to the point of carelessness, Chad was remarkably observant. It was one of the many contradictions that made him intriguing.

“Okay, show me this pop-up thing,” Daisy said, trying to focus.

Chad demonstrated for her, his movements fluid as he went from a lying position to standing in one seamless motion, feet planted, knees bent, arms extended for balance.

“Now you try,” he encouraged, stepping off the board.

Daisy’s first attempt was awkward, as she got tangled in her own limbs and ended up kneeling on the board instead of standing.

“That’s okay,” Chad assured her. “Nobody gets it right the first time. Try again.”

Her second and third attempts weren’t much better. By the fourth, frustration began to set in.

“I can’t do this,” she muttered. “My body doesn’t move that way.”

“Sure it does,” Chad said, coming to kneel beside the board. “You’re overthinking it. You’re trying to mentally break it down into steps, but it needs to be one fluid motion.”

“I like steps,” Daisy insisted. “Steps are organized. Steps make sense.”

Chad’s expression softened. “Not everything can be organized into neat little boxes, Fields. Sometimes you have to let go and trust yourself.”

Something about his words felt weighted with deeper meaning, but before Daisy could examine it, he continued.

“Here, let me help. Get in position again.”

Daisy lay back down on the board.

“Now, on three, I’m going to help guide you through it. One motion, no thinking. Ready?”

She nodded, determined.

“One... two... three!”

With Chad’s hands guiding her shoulders and hips, Daisy pushed up and somehow found herself standing on the board, knees bent, arms out, almost perfectly balanced.

“I did it!” she exclaimed, wobbling slightly.

“You did,” Chad said, his smile wide and genuine. “See what happens when you stop overthinking?”

Daisy stepped off the board, brushing sand from her hands. “Don’t get too excited. Doing it on the beach is one thing. Doing it in the water with waves trying to kill me is another.”

“The waves aren’t trying to kill you,” Chad laughed. “They’re just doing their wave thing. It’s up to you whether you fight them or work with them.”

“Is this where you tell me surfing is a metaphor for life?” Daisy asked dryly.

“Nope,” Chad replied, picking up the board and tucking it under his arm. “This is where I tell you to grab your board and follow me into the water before you talk yourself out of it.”

Fifteen minutes later, Daisy found herself lying on her board in the shallow waters, practicing paddling while small waves rolled beneath her. Chad stayed close, one hand on her board to steady it.

“You’re doing great,” he encouraged. “Just remember to keep your feet together and pointed.”

Daisy nodded, but her focus had drifted to the writing contest, and Ava and Ethan’s dismissals of her writing dreams. And underneath it all, the persistent ache of knowing what day it was.

It had been three years since she’d heard her father’s laugh, felt his bear hug, listened to his stories about his military adventures.

Or felt his strong hands catch her when she fell.

“Hey,” Chad said softly, noticing her distraction. “Where’d you go?”

Daisy sighed, sitting up on her board. “I’m sorry. I’m still thinking about this writing contest.”

Chad sat on his own board, legs dangling in the water. “You nervous about it?”

“Yeah. With the deadline coming up, it’s feeling very real. And Ava’s been no help, with the way she’s always dismissing it as a hobby.”

“Prove her wrong,” Chad said.

She adjusted herself on the surfboard to face him.

“You’ve got the talent, Fields,” he said. “Let’s show her and boring banker just how good you are.”

For a moment, she just studied the sparkle in his eyes.

“Thanks, Chad,” she said fondly. “For believing in me.”

“You believed in me, too.”

“That’s because your book’s amazing,” she said. “And I’m not just saying that. When I read the ending, I seriously cried. It was perfect. Bittersweet, without being melodramatic.”

Something shifted in Chad’s eyes, a vulnerability he rarely showed.

“Thanks, Daisy,” he said simply. “That means a lot coming from you.”