Single Dad Seeks Juliet

I laugh, but she’s got commentary.

“This has got to be what it’s like to ride on the back of a sea turtle!”

I shake my head again and prepare for the next wave. I’m no longer able to touch the bottom, and we’ll have to be under the surface even more to clear this swell.

“Get ready to hold your breath again. Longer this time.”

I feel her nod against my back as the wave approaches, and I take a deep breath of my own as I submerse our bodies again.

The wave rolls over us, and we come up on the other side, and finally, we’ve reached the sweet calm of gentle swells.

I pull her around, off my back, and manipulate her body so that she’s floating on her back.

She clings a little in panic, but for the most part, she doesn’t fight it.

“This is the easiest way to stay afloat,” I tell her, putting gentle pressure on her back so she lifts her belly higher toward the sky. “Just like this. You could stay like this for hours if you had to. All you have to do is relax.”

She nods in the water and her chin almost goes under, so I reach under her back again and help her stomach back to the surface.

“See?” I say with a smile. “This isn’t so bad, right?”

“It’s not as bad as, like, water torture is, I’m sure,” she qualifies, and I laugh.

“Wow. A stellar review.”

“I’m nervous is all,” she mumbles, and I swim around to the other side of her outstretched body and move to float on my back right beside her.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’m right here, and I promise I won’t let anything happen.”

“Okay,” she whispers quietly before blowing a breath toward the sky.

I watch as a couple clouds dance next to each other, headed farther out to sea.

“So…uh…what do we do now?” Holley asks after a brief minute of quiet.

I turn my head to face her and study the line of her profile. Her features are petite and proportionate, but her lips—they’re much fuller than average. Natural, though, not fake. I can tell.

“Well, normally, I would do some calisthenics followed by underwater training, but obviously, we can modify this morning to fit what you’re comfortable with. How are you at opening your eyes underwater?”

“I haven’t tried in the ocean, but I can do it in the pool. Is it different?”

“Some people think the salt water burns a little more. But I actually think it feels better than chlorine.”

“I guess I can try,” she says toward the vastly changing hues of the brightening sky above us. “Is there a lot to see down there?”

I chuckle. “A thing or two. It’s the ocean.”

“Yeah, well, I’m usually the I’d rather not know type of ocean gal. I’m better off without the intimate knowledge of all the things that could kill me in here. I have a feeling if I knew, I’d really never come in again.”

“I’m going to tell you what I always tell Chloe, but I’ll try not to sound like a condescending prick, okay?”

The corners of her mouth curve upward.

“Knowledge is power. It’s always better to have it.”

“I don’t know,” she hedges. “I’m pretty sure I’d rather not know a lot of stuff. The knowing is what’s caused me a fair amount of heartache.”

I shift in the water and take hold of her carefully to make sure she can see me. She’s been too scared to turn her head in my direction while on her back, and for some reason, I find it tremendously important that she is able to look me in the eye right now.

She searches my steady gaze as I grab on to her hips, lift up on her thighs, and force her legs around my waist.

It’s an incredibly intimate position—I’m not unaware—but it’s the easiest way to keep us both afloat out here while we talk.

It does mean that I have to wait at least thirty seconds, enough time to let her eye sockets shrink back down to the realm of their normal size before I continue with my point.

“Knowledge is power,” I repeat, squeezing the fabric of the swimsuit above her hips to emphasize my words. “The reason it doesn’t feel like it sometimes is because of fear. Fear of conflict. Fear of consequences. Fear of dealing with something you have yet to establish a comfort level in.”

“You sound like you really believe that,” she comments softly, and I nod my head.

“When Chloe was born, I was an active Navy SEAL, on a mission in an undisclosed rain forest in a remote part of the world. For seventy-two hours, another man from my unit and I had been following a target, doing reconnaissance. I hadn’t been home in more than a month and I knew she was due soon, but when you’re out there, doing that kind of work, time passes differently.”