by Tory Baker
5
Fox
My run did absolutely nothing to clear my mind of the vixen that has seemed to be taking up permanent residency in my head for the past twelve fucking hours. So much that when I took a shower after coming off the beach, my cock was hard as a rock and I was fucking my fist to the thought of her riding me reverse cowgirl, my hands in her hair, pulling it back, my mouth sucking on her neck as she grinds down on my cock. It had me coming in record time. Not that it did a shit ton of good—the fucking thing was harder than nails ten minutes later. I rushed out of the shower, more pissed off than when they air lifted my ass from Iraq to Germany, my knee a ripped-up mess, knowing full well my career as a Seal was over.
I went through the motions of drying off, grabbing board shorts and a tee with The Wet Spot logo. Even if I do turn a lot of heads with it, free advertising is what I’m after. It may seem crude to certain people, but tell that to my bank account that’s being padded on the daily. We’re able to give back to fallen Veterans, sponsor the beach volleyball team, and help some families along the way that are down on their luck.
“Fuck.” I look at the time, seeing it’s half past nine. I should have been there thirty minutes ago to help Sloane open up, get the clothing inventory done, check on a few surf boards that were ordered for a local surfer who needs a new one for a competition in Hawaii. I’m blaming it on the woman with the voice of an angel, a body of a goddess, and a tongue as sharp as a sword.
The breakfast I was going to make is long forgotten. There’s no way I can afford to stop to make anything. I’ll have to see if Sloane wants to take her break early, grab the both of us something to eat before the busy foot traffic makes its way into the shop. I grab my keys and phone, rushing to make sure shit is locked up for the day, the windows being shut after last night’s serenade, and I’m out the door.
My eyes glance at the place that houses a blonde-haired beauty, hoping for another glimpse of her. Not seeing her, I shake my head. There’s no way that woman is ready for anything, least of all a man who doesn’t even know if he’s ready to settle down. But the way she has fire and ice running through her, it’s enough to make me want that elusive dream, of the love and marriage my brother and his wife have, hell, the years my parents have put into their marriage. I bet there’s nothing better than coming home to the woman you love day in and day out.
While I walk to the shop, I think about what that could be like. Sure, the nameless woman isn’t at that stage in her life, especially with the vehemence she had in her tone today. If things were different, though, if she weren’t mending a broken heart, I’d be doing my best to be there beside her. Hell, I might still, if she gives me half a chance.
It takes me a few minutes until I’m at the shop. Another deciding factor of finding my place and the store, they’re in walking distance, meaning I don’t have to drive too much unless it’s for errands.
“Hey, hot rod,” Sloane says behind the cash register.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” I wave to her, veering off towards the office door.
“Fox, seriously, you’re the owner. I’m pretty sure I can open and close this place in my sleep. The inventory is done. The only thing I need you to do is deal with the surfboard, and definitely the customer. He’s already called three times this morning. His messages are on the desk.” Sloane rolls her eyes.
“He’s usually pretty calm. The Hawaii officials must be breathing down his neck. I’ll see what’s going on. You got this for now? It won’t take long, then, if you don’t mind, I’ll have you go grab some food? I’m fucking starving.” It’s only souring my mood even more that I’ve had no sleep, went for a run, and my body is running on coffee.
“It’s pretty quiet in here. I’ll go next door and grab us something. Your usual?” Sloane asks.
“Yes. You’re a godsend. Thanks.” I nod my head and then get down to business.
6
Melanie
I sink my teeth into the biscuit I just picked up at the local breakfast shop. It’s savory and sweet, probably the best thing I’ve eaten since being down here. In my other hand is a cup that has more creamer in it than coffee, along with sugar. I’m standing outside, people watching while I shovel my food down. I seriously need to grocery shop and start eating at the beach house, especially because I’ve come up with the idea to extend my rental well into summer.
The email I got this morning while walking here said my mother was going to try and contest my father’s will. Apparently, she thinks she’s owed something. That woman will never stop. It doesn’t mean I want to go back to California and face her. Instead, I emailed the rental company and added two months to the beach house. Then I called my attorney, who’s also basically my second dad, Gene, and told him to start the process of boxing things up and moving them into storage. We’d go from there on what he thought would be the smartest move to either rent or sell the house. It might seem like a spur-of-the-moment decision, but when you stay up day and night, everything’s whirling around in your brain, and this seems like the best plan of action for me. He thought it was a good idea to sell my childhood home. I almost broke down in the middle of the street, but like he said, if I rent it out, worse could happen. Tenants from hell, the market could crash, causing me to lose my ass, or I’d have to deal with a real estate agency for renters. I decided selling would be the best, so much as it’s furnished as well, besides a few pieces that Gene knows are near and dear to my heart, my father’s antique desk being the main thing. The guitars, he’s shipping to me. I’m not sure what my womb donor is capable of, and I’d rather have them here with me than anywhere else.
I finish off my breakfast, guzzle the last of my coffee. The sun is shining brightly, and I’m enjoying the way it feels against my face and shoulders. I’ve walked this street a few times since I’ve been here, window shopping mostly, except for when I needed the necessities I seemed to have forgotten and found the nearest big box store.
Today is the day I’m going to venture around the town, at least for this morning. In the afternoon, though, I plan to be lying on the beach. There are a few boutique-style places I see while walking down the brick-paved sidewalk. I make a note to come back. Those usually carry the softest clothes, and I’m all about comfort these days. But right now, my mind is on feeling the sun, playing in the sand, and maybe venturing out into the water.
I come up to a store, not really thinking it would be a clothing store with its name, but when I see the variety of clothing in the window, I make a beeline in there. Surely, they’ll have something.
“Welcome to The Wet Spot. Let me know if you need help,” the pretty girl behind the counter says as I take everything in. It’s a crazy name, but I bet it’s catchy for the locals and tourists.
“Thank you, I’ll let you know.” She’s got a deep tan, golden brown hair that has the perfect wave to it, and her smile shines through to her eyes. My gaze returns to the clothing racks. There are so many bathing suits to choose from, this could take a bit to riffle through. I’m that unicorn, you know, the girl who has tits and ass. Some call it a blessing. I like to call it a curse. It’s hard to find tops that fit a double-D chest, let alone a bubble butt from dancing in my younger days. Even though I quit in my teenage years, it still seems to stay, no matter what I do or don’t do.
“Wow, I’m not sure that would cover my left butt cheek,” I mumble to myself while looking at the bathing suits. I may have to go back to the big box store if this is all they have.
“I’d beg to differ, but you can try it on for me and let me be the deciding factor,” that rough gravelly voice I heard this morning says over my shoulder. I can feel his presence as he moves closer to where I’m standing. I don’t even know this man’s name, yet he’s had me go through a variety of emotions—need, anger, and annoyance are just a few of them.
I whip around, standing tall, thrusting my shoulders back, putting on a front when I say, “It’ll be a cold day in hell when that happens. W
hat are you doing here anyways? Stalker much?” The woman behind the counter snickers. Maybe this man is known for being a weirdo.
“Funny girl, as much as I’d love to stalk you, I don’t stalk emo chicks that cry about boys, and you’re clearly the stalker in this scenario since, you know, you’re in my surf shop.” Fuck me running. Emo chick, I think to myself. This man is beyond full of himself. His mouth runs on end, at least that’s how it seems.
“Emo chick? Definitely not me. Nice store though. I’ll be leaving now. See you around, neighbor.” I start to walk around him. That big box store is sounding even more appealing now than ever.
“You sure you don’t want to try that on? I bet you could make a man fall to his knees, neighbor.” His hand wraps around my wrist, holding me captive, not hurting me, but the fission of electricity is definitely there. He’d be hotter if he could keep his mouth in line, though.
“Positive. I’m not looking to get a ticket for public indecency.” That causes him to laugh, yet he doesn’t let me go. Instead, his thumb glides along the pulse that’s beating rapidly at his lingering touch.
“Sunshine, you’re at the beach. There’s nothing that can be misconstrued as that here.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to. If you have something less revealing, I’ll definitely look.” I don’t even know why I’m still having a conversation with him. With any other person, I’d have shut this down and left without a backwards glance.
“Hey, Fox, you have a call from Slater,” the cashier says. It gives me the out I need.
“See you around, Fox.” I turn around, our bodies losing that connection. I’m thankful for it because I’m not sure I could handle his presence much longer.
“Later.” I don’t watch as he leaves. I return to looking, my eyes landing on bathing suits that have more coverage than the ones I previously looked at. I’m from California, so it doesn’t shock me to see so much skin. I just don’t feel the need to show it. I grab a couple of bathing suits that are what I’m looking for, a couple of cute tops, some shorts, and even a bathing suit cover-up. My next step is to see what fits and what doesn’t, then it’s definitely a fun-in-the-sun day.
7
Fox
Fucking crazy-ass surfer who can’t keep his damn panties out of a wad. I just got off the phone with him. I’m not sure what the hell else he could want, and I still didn’t get my hot-as-fuck neighbor’s name, yet she has mine. The way it rolled off her tongue, I want to hear her moan or scream it out while she’s writhing in my bed.
“What’s up, Slater?” I take the phone from Sloane, my eyes never leaving the blonde bombshell as she meanders around the store, picking up a few items here and there. I already know I’ll be getting out of here early today in hopes of seeing her again.
“That board, you sure it’s going to be ready and here in time? Hawaii is calling my name, and I want to get there early and see the waves, man.”
“I’m sure. I just got off the phone with him. He’s dropping it off tomorrow morning. It’ll be ready for you by noon. That soon enough, or are you leaving earlier?” I ask. If I don’t shut this conversation down, Slater will not shut the hell up and can keep me on the phone for hours.
“Yeah, I was hoping to leave tomorrow morning, but that’ll do. Thanks for rushing this for me, Fox.”
“No problem. I gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow.” I try to not let on that I’m getting aggravated.
“Alright. Later, man.” He hangs up.
“Thank Christ.” I look out over the floor and notice that during the time I’ve talked to Slater, she must have meandered into the changing rooms. Or she left. I hope like hell she didn’t though.
I turn to Sloane. “Give her the employee discount.” Not that she needs it by the looks of the house she’s renting, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do something nice for her either.
“Something tells me this should be interesting. Let me get my phone ready now. She seems like the type to give you hell,” Sloane jokes, but returns to the magazine she’s reading.
“Oh, you have no idea. Get her name too, if you don’t mind.” It’s definitely on my to-do list, and if I can have it before she gives it to me, that’ll give me a leg up on who she is.
“Your funeral,” Sloane mutters, then tunes me out completely. The women in my life sure know how to give me hell, mainly the blonde-haired beauty, and hopefully after today, I’ll have a name for her.
“What a way to go, though. I’ll be in the office. I’m going to get payroll done so Monday will be an easier one. Last week was a clusterfuck, and if we never have one of those again, it’ll be good.” It’s usually just Sloane and me on payroll, but with sponsoring the beach volleyball tournament for active and veteran military, let’s just say it’s been worse than ever and makes the accounting side of The Wet Spot a total nightmare to deal with.
“You couldn’t pay me enough money to crunch numbers,” Sunshine says, coming up to the counter. She has an armful of clothes, including a few bathing suits that I know will look fucking spectacular on her. Especially after seeing her in the clothes she was wearing earlier this morning.
“Somebody’s gotta do it.” I shrug my shoulders, but I know I need to make my getaway before she figures out the prices are completely different than what’s on the tags. I mean, she may hate numbers, but it won’t take her long to realize she’s getting a deal, and I’m not ready to go head-to-head with Sunshine.
“See you around.” I wave over my shoulder, knowing I’ll stay much longer than I need just to be in her presence. Though, she does seem to be in a better mood than she was. Even her eyes don’t look near as weary. Maybe she took my advice and realized crying over some douche nugget wasn’t worth her time after all.
8
Melanie
When the cashier rang me up, all I could do was smile. Fox retreated, well, like a fox going into his hole. Too bad he won’t be able to hide for long. It seems my utterly drop-dead gorgeous neighbor is intent on staying in my life, no matter the cost or what he says about some mythical man being the one who broke my heart. I shake my head free of those thoughts. Each time I think about him, it only makes me want to cry all over again, and after the fun morning of eating and shopping, I don’t want the melancholy to take hold again.
By the time I get back to my place, it’s lunchtime. I was smart and went ahead and placed a grocery order, so food would be delivered by the time I got home. The thought of getting in my car to get groceries made my skin crawl, it’s my least favorite chore. I can shop for clothes, shoes, home décor, honestly anything else, but when it comes to grocery stores, it’s a no for me. I’d rather go to the dentist for a root canal.
Since I’ve decided to up my stay, I guess it would be smart to unpack my clothes and do the laundry that I basically lived in for the first week. Then throw on my swimsuit, offload the groceries, and then I’m heading to the beach. I won’t even tell you I kind of wish Fox followed me into the dressing room. Sure, giving him hell was fun, but the hungry look in his eyes told me he was thinking it. Too bad my mouth told him what my body was pissed about denying.
I grab the sunscreen, towel, and the trucker-style baseball hat I bought with more bathing suits than I could fathom. The surf shop really surprised me once I got past the string bikinis, you know, the ones that look like they have a diaper as bottoms held together by strings. No, thank you. I want to be able to walk, run, or swim in the ocean without losing my bottoms and top.
That’s why I settled on more modest bathing suits with full coverage bottoms and a bandeau style top that somehow is miraculously staying up, though that could have to do with the one-sided shoulder strap. I’m walking down the small deck that’s attached to the house, my eyes solely focused on the beach and not Fox’s place. God, if I saw him right now, I may do something stupid, like strip my clothes off and show him just what he’s managed to do to me without even touching me in the places my body needs him most. Though, I may have to muzzle hi
m if he brings up a touchy subject again.
I almost stutter-step when my bare foot hits the sand. I swear I can feel Fox’s eyes on me, a searing heat. I don’t look though, in fact, I’m going to ignore him and the way he makes me feel. My only thoughts need to be on getting to a better place, mentally and emotionally. Sure, this morning was decent, the crying stopped for a while, but I know it’s just a passing moment. There’s nothing but time that can help ease the ache that’s deep in my heart.
“Melanie,” a voice breathes out once I’m settled on my beach towel. I’m sitting up, my arms on my knees, head tipped up at the sky, allowing the sun to kiss my face.
“Don’t ruin this moment, Fox,” I mutter, bringing my focus to the ocean, where kids are running up and down the shoreline, surfers sit on their boards off in the distance, and a few people stand up to their hips in the water.
“Not gonna ruin it, sunshine, just seeing if you want some company.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond, instead, he spreads his towel on the sand beside mine before sitting down.