Love's High Tide: A Contemporary Beach Romance

By Niki Mitchell

No more summer flings.

Surf shop owner Skye Taylor refuses to go out with another vacationer. In walks cocky, smoking hot Harley Nicholson from Idaho. And she fights her instant attraction for the man. 

Mesmerized by the woman shooting through the Huntington Beach Pier on her surfboard, Harley is determined to meet the brazen surfer. Harley charms her into giving him a surfing lesson, woos her with moonlight strolls, and coaxes her to go out to dinner.

Harley doesn't mean to stay in town for more than three weeks.
He doesn't plan to make a crazy bet concerning Skye with his cousin.
He doesn't expect to fall for her. 

But Skye discovers Harley's betrayal—and he must do something monumental to win her back.

This book is about 60 pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Niki Mitchell
• Release date: Jan 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393061915

Book preview

No more summer flings.

Surf shop owner Skye Taylor refuses to go out with another vacationer. In walks cocky, smoking hot Harley Nicholson from Idaho. And she fights her instant attraction for the man. 

Mesmerized by the woman shooting through the Huntington Beach Pier on her surfboard, Harley is determined to meet the brazen surfer. Harley charms her into giving him a surfing lesson, woos her with moonlight strolls, and coaxes her to go out to dinner.

Harley doesn't mean to stay in town for more than three weeks.

He doesn't plan to make a crazy bet concerning Skye with his cousin.

He doesn't expect to fall for her. 

But Skye discovers Harley's betrayal—and he must do something monumental to win her back.

This book is over 60 pages.

Love’s High Tide is dedicated to my husband and friends who always support my crazy ideas.

Chapter 1

Huntington Beach, California

Skye Taylor propped her board into the sand and faced sideways to the Pacific Ocean. Her shop demanded most of her day, but she had the morning hour to train for the big surf contest.

She remained still and enjoyed the soothing sound of the ocean. Golden rays broke the darkness. An orange fireball crested the horizon from the east, spreading light across the water. Her mind cleared.

Hey, water nymph. A stocky blond surfer banged his fist on the back of Skye's board. The surf’s up. You comin’?

The surfer broke her solitude. Dude, do ya have to yell?

Wasn't yelling, just waking you up. A storm front’s making gnarly waves. Wouldn't want you to miss the best surfing of the day.

Skye watched him smirk with his bravado macho attitude. The locals could be worse than vacationers. Already checked the surf app, she said. You’re pretty close to the pier. Better move down the beach to stay safe.

He smiled and headed toward the water with his surfboard tucked under his arm, walking backward. Got it. Let’s shoot the pier. The waves are perfect. When I’m done, how about I buy you a coffee?

Got a boyfriend. She hated to lie, but guys usually left her alone with that fib.

Too bad. He darted for the water, kicking up clouds of sand.

A cluster of surfers positioned themselves about a mile to the south as she entered the water and made her way out. Waves rolled in. She waited and paddled into the seventh set. Her hands grasped the board’s sides. She pushed up quickly—her left foot near the tail—her right on the board’s center. The curl grabbed her like watery fingers pushing her forward, making her weightless, as if gliding on top of the water. Nothing, not rock climbing nor skydiving, nor paragliding gave her this thrill.

A bigger thrill—the pier came into view. For a moment, she hesitated but couldn’t help herself. She had to shoot the pier just to prove she could still accomplish risky challenges. Adrenaline fueled her on. Her board owned the pylon poles. Her movements were tight and controlled. She weaved through the first three pylons, passed the fourth.

Yes! She put her right fist in the air, proof she owned the ocean. She smiled at her accomplishment and watched the locals gather on the shore.

~ * ~

HAVEN’T FISHED OFF this ocean pier in years, Harley Morgan said. He carried a borrowed fishing pole and walked along the sidewalk with his cousin, Jack. Harley’s job as an emergency dispatcher had been stressful, and he needed this vacation.

Look over there in the water close to the lifeguard tower. Jack grinned the same goofy grin he’d worn twenty years ago when he’d snuck a snake on the school bus and let it loose. It’s our local surf shop owner. She’s gonna go through the pylons.

Harley was impressed. Does that happen often?

Once or twice a week.

Skye’s shooting the pier! somebody shouted from the beach.

Come on! Jack got out his phone as he ran off the sidewalk into the sand toward the water. I’m gonna video her.