Shane breathed easily again. “Probably. He’ll still be out there when he needs a walker.”
“Hey, did you ever surf Rincon in Santa Barbara? I saw a thing on TV about the point break there. Looks so cool.”
“No, but I did the Trestles when I could catch a ride. About half an hour south of Laguna, and it was a trek to get to the beach. Some gnarly breaks, though. It was worth it.”
Rafa burst out laughing and raised his hand. “I’m sorry.”
Shane found himself smiling. “What’s so funny?”
“Hearing the word ‘gnarly’ come out of your mouth.”
“Fair enough,” Shane laughed. “But hodads don’t get to make fun.”
“Wait, what’s a hodad?” Rafa popped a piece of tomato in his mouth.
Shane watched as he swallowed. “Uh, it’s…a hodad is a non-surfer, but one who hangs at the beach. A poser.”
“Hey, I’m not a poser!” Rafa puffed up with mock anger. “Trust me, I’ll be surfing my ass off in the new year. I’ll be a, what do they call it? A grommet?”
“You’re a little old for a grommet, but just don’t be a kook.”
“What’s a kook? I definitely don’t want to be that.” Rafa was serious again, looking like he was ready to take mental notes.
“A newbie who causes trouble. Gets in the way and doesn’t follow the rules. Wherever you end up surfing, make sure you find out how the locals operate. Don’t get in anyone’s way.”
Rafa nodded. “I won’t.” He ate a bite of tomato and bread. “I think I prefer the goat cheese.”
“Me too. Boursin is nice, but I think the goat cheese was more… It didn’t compete with the basil.”
“More neutral, but in a good way.” Nodding, Rafa flipped open his notebook and jotted down a line. He toyed with his soup spoon, swirling it through his bowl. “Did you have a favorite spot at Laguna?”
The old ache was still there, but Shane smiled. “Brooks Street. Swells were usually just right. Not ankle busters, but not too big. Plus, Maddie’s is there. Not much more than a shack, but she’s got the best slushees. I’d have a watermelon-pistachio every day.” His smile faded. “Long time ago now.”
“It sounds awesome. So, you didn’t do the big waves? No riding giants for you?”
“Nah. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t want to end up with a sand facial.” He grimaced. “I went over the falls once at the Trestles—wiped out over the front of my board as the wave broke. Got dragged along the bottom.”
“Ouch. Were you hurt?”
“A little. Got a cool scar I showed off to all my friends. It wasn’t so bad.” He remembered how Jimmy Clarkson had blown him afterward behind the Carl’s Jr. The day had ended pretty well, all things considered.
Rafa’s eyes lit up. “Can I see it?” His cheeks flushed. “Um, I mean if you can show me. Like, if it’s on your hand or something. Forget it. That was stupid to ask.”
“It’s okay.” Tugging at his tie, Shane undid the top button on his shirt and pulled down his collar to show the pale, jagged scar at the juncture of his neck and right shoulder. “Coral did a number on me.”
“Whoa.” Rafa stepped close, leaning in. The puff of his exhalation was warm on Shane’s skin. “That must have hurt.”
They were standing only a whisper apart, and Shane’s breath caught in his throat as Rafa traced the three-inch mark with his fingertip, running it up and then down. A shiver raced down Shane’s spine, and he stepped back, quickly buttoning up and straightening his tie. What the fuck am I doing?
“Hey, I was thinking…if I went to visit my sister in LA or my brother up at Berkeley, maybe I could try surfing. You’d have to go with me out on the waves, right? Just in case a shark tried to kidnap me.” He smiled tentatively.
Before his brain could kick in, happy anticipation swelled through Shane, warm and tingly, and for once, the guilty grief only flared for a moment before fading away. He imagined Rafa beside him, all eager smiles, his freckles standing out across his cheeks and his hair curling over his forehead. He could almost smell the salty air and feel the warmth of the sun as they paddled out past the break…
No.
This was not how he was supposed to feel about his job. He wasn’t supposed to look forward to spending time with his protectee. It was one thing not to hate it, or to find it pleasant. But it was another thing all together to daydream about it like he was a kid with a crush. There was a reason they didn’t want agents getting attached. It clouded judgment. Put the protectee at risk. Put other agents at risk.
I should never have come up here. This is it. I’m done.