Riptide of Romance: A Fake Marriage Sports Romance (Pleasure Point Series)

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Riptide of Romance: A Fake Marriage Sports Romance (Pleasure Point Series) Page 21

by Jennifer Jones


  I smacked him with a pillow. “Shut up.” And before I knew it, we were in another rip-roaring pillow fight. He finally tackled me, pinning my arms over my head. His blue eyes gazed into mine. “We better get a good night’s rest.”

  We lay in bed for the next thirty minutes discussing our strategy for the competition before we finally fell asleep.

  I would deal with whatever happened between us when the time came. Until he proved otherwise, I had to believe that he’d leave me again. But I couldn’t think about that now.

  Thirty-One

  Justice

  We stood next to the wave pool, and Papaw clapped me on the back. “Proud of you, kid.” His intense eyes stared into mine. “Your uncle would be crazy impressed watching you and Lola kill it out there.”

  Lola stood at my side and gripped my bicep. “Mãe de Deus… Here comes trouble.”

  Devin planted his body in front of Papaw, a smile on his face. “Hey there, Cliff. Been to any good Whole Foods lately?” He extended his hand and Papaw leaned away. “Or maybe you’re in the market for a loft apartment?”

  Papaw’s face turned a deep crimson, his lips flat. “I’m giving you three seconds to get your mug out of my face.”

  “And then what?” Devin said. “Maybe you and your stripper girlfriend want to enter the competition. Oh, that’s right. You’re not married yet. It’s only Justice and Lola who seem to like the quickie marriages around here.”

  Papaw’s body tensed, and before I could stop him, he grabbed the front of Devin’s shirt. “Listen up punk. You’re not even one-tenth of the surfer Lola and my grandson are. I double dare you to take them on. My money’s on you eating it in the first round.”

  I glanced at the videographer and sprang into action before my grandfather beat Devin to a pulp. “Stop.” I wedged my arm in between the two. “Leave him alone, Papaw.”

  He reluctantly released his grasp, and I could smell his sweat. “Fine. But I’m not done.”

  “Yeah?” Devin said. “Maybe I’ll get you a job as stock boy at the Whole Foods.” He turned on his heel and, like the candy-ass he was, hightailed it out of there.

  Papaw cupped his hands around his mouth. “Come back here, you sissy.”

  “Let him go,” I said. Papaw’s breath came in uneven rasps, his body tense. “We’ll win the contest and that’ll be that. Don’t let him get to you. You can’t. He’s got those damn camera guys everywhere.”

  “That son of a bitch.” Papaw turned to me and shook his fist. “If you end up competing against him …” His blue eyes narrowed. “Grind him in the dust.”

  Jazzy surf music boomed on the loudspeakers, and the announcer’s voice filled my ears.

  “Good morning Knight’s Ferry! Hope all our competitors got a good night’s sleep because we are in for a big day here at the one and only”—the announcer implemented an echo machine, and his voice reverberated as he said—“Knight’s Ferry Wave Pool Valentine’s Day Extravaganza.” The echoes subsided and the announcer continued, “Ladies and gents, husbands and wives, boys and girls. Listen up because I got one lovey-dovey uber-important thing to say. Happy Valentine’s Day! It’s going to be one heck of a special day for the winner of our, yep, you heard it here … one hundred grand. One lucky couple is going to walk away with big winnings today, and I’m talking about a big ol’ mountain of cash. Who will it be? What’ll they do with one hundred thousand smackeroos?” He laughed an enthusiastic laugh. “I’d say that’ll buy an awful lot of chocolate!

  “And announcing our very first competitors of the day …”

  I tuned out as he announced team after team. Finally, my ears pricked when he said, “Lola and Justice Hamilton from La Fortuna, California against Malcolm and Ruby Jones from Austin, Texas, your heat is at ten a.m.” Then he announced that Devin and Kristin would compete directly after us.

  This was it. The day we’d trained so hard for.

  My breath temporarily bottled in my chest as I gazed at Lola. I bathed in the radiance of her smile as I took her hand. Her hair was like a halo around her head in the early morning light. My angel. I was pumped up and ready to win, to make her proud. I gently bit my lip thinking about how lucky I was to be with her again.

  Lola and I had reconnected in a way that blew my mind. Damn. My cock twitched when I thought of Lola on all fours the night before as I fucked her senseless, my hand coming down on her round ass as she tilted up higher, my handprint blooming on the creamy flesh as she begged me to spank her harder.

  Yeah, our lovemaking was red hot, but throw in the fun fact that Lola was my best friend and I knew I couldn’t mess this up. I rubbed my hand against my heart remembering the feel of our playfulness, two kids fate had brought together.

  Destiny.

  I don’t know if I’d ever used that word. As a boy, I was too young even to know what it meant, but now I realized that what we shared was rare, once in a lifetime.

  Lola and I had had a few conversations about us, and it was easy for me to tell her I loved her. Because I did.

  Why did life have to be complicated? Mechanics knew that when something was broken, you fixed it. Just replace the broken part and put the dang thing back together. Simple.

  But Lola didn’t seem to think it was that easy. I couldn’t understand what she wanted from me.

  Lola deserved the best.

  If we won the contest—and I was fired up and ready to do just that—I’d save Uncle Seth’s shop and relocate my motorcycle business to the La Fortuna area.

  I wanted a life with Lola. I wanted her to have our babies. She’d be ravishing with a hugely swollen pregnant belly. Lola pregnant. I smiled thinking about stroking and kissing her tummy, laying my ear against the flesh and singing songs to our little baby inside.

  I wanted Lola to spend her days in her artist’s studio creating her one-of-a-kind bathing suit designs. I wanted to wake up next to Lola every morning, the cool ocean breeze wafting through an open window greeting us. I would stare at her beautiful face, and then wake her up with a kiss on her luscious lips. I wanted Lola’s face to be the last thing I saw every night before we fell into a deep sleep. I wanted to make love to Lola every day, long steamy lovemaking sessions where I’d make my sultry Brazilian lover scream my name.

  But if we didn’t win the competition, what did I have to offer her?

  A bankrupt shop that would be razed to the ground. The thought of watching the Blue Tide Surf Shop, the shop that was a landmark in La Fortuna, the place I’d helped Papaw and Uncle Seth build, turn into a pile of rubble under Devin’s smirking gaze was unreal. My stomach lurched. What did I have left if that happened? A motorcycle mechanic business that made enough money to buy lunch at Taco Bell and pay meager rent.

  Lola would go back to the bank, and I’d help Papaw lick his wounds. And then? I didn’t want to think about that.

  I took a deep breath and shook the negative thoughts away.

  I thrust my chest out. Lola and I had trained, we were in sync, just like in the old days when we’d won tandem surf contests as teenagers. We were going to win. We had to win.

  I squeezed Lola’s hand. “Ready to watch the show?”

  The morning’s festivities progressed. A gnarly spectacle of the world’s top tandem surf athletes were displayed larger than life on the jumbotron, the announcer’s voice happily chirping over the surf music playing in the background. As I watched the skilled competitors, my muscles tightened in readiness.

  Lola, Papaw, Ginger, Bobbie, and I sat together, and finally the announcer’s voice boomed: “Domi and Simon Wheeler from Anchorage, Alaska against John and Katie Smith from Newport, Oregon on deck. Lola and Justice Hamilton from La Fortuna, California against Malcolm and Ruby Jones from Austin, Texas, in the hole.”

  Lola and I scrambled to get our gear, and I mentally ran through our moves. Point the board and focus. Under the lip, down the line. Hold Lola tight and don’t let go. Relax and focus. Point it and go. Do not fall!

  L
ola and I stood on the sand, the cool water from the wave pool tickling my feet.

  I gave my bride a wide smile, and I don’t think I’d ever felt as confident. “Ready to take home the win?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Only if you promise to save some moola for a lifetime supply of blindfolds.”

  “Careful, Lola. You’re tempting me.” I cocked my head. “How long would it take you to stitch up a few custom blindfolds?”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “Can we get in the water now?”

  We smiled at each other and bumped fists.

  Lola had never looked more lovely to me. Her long, wild, blond hair blew in the breeze; her wetsuit tightly hugged her shapely ass. A lightness filled my chest when I saw that competitive gleam in her eye. I’d seen that look plenty of times. It was one of the things I loved most about Lola. My sweetheart had a competitive fire, and nobody stood in her way.

  We picked up our board, jumped on, and followed our competitors into the wave pool, our strokes sure.

  As Lola and I sat in the lineup, Malcolm and Ruby caught the first wave. “Dang. They’re going straight for the scorpion,” Lola said. She sat in front of me, and I felt her body tense as the couple executed a perfect advanced move. Malcolm held Ruby’s arms while her spine contorted into a flawless backbend, her toes nearly touching her head.

  I patted Lola’s thigh. “They ain’t seen nothing yet. Remember what we talked about. First wave we go for the puka.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  I looked over my shoulder at the approaching wave. “Here we go!”

  The wave broke, and we paddled hard. My breath strained, and I huffed out as we caught the perfect breaker. We stood, and I picked her up, my muscular arms working energetically. I hoisted Lola to my shoulders and then with all my might, I lifted her until she was in position for the bow pose in which she’d need to grasp her ankles and arch her back.

  My hands dug into her pelvis. “Come on, Lola. Grab those ankles.”

  Her breath sped up. “The wave’s going too fast. I can’t … I …”

  “Reach back.”

  Her voice was strangled. “I’m trying.”

  And then the whole thing went off-kilter. “Come on, babe,” I urged. But it was no good. Lola struggled to reach, and when her right hand jerked for her ankle, I lost my balance. “Hang on!” We dove off the board, and Lola wiped out with a loud splash.

  The crowd let out a collective gasp, and the announcer said, “And they’re down folks. The Hamilton’s are giving us some drama here on V Day. It’s okay,” he drawled. “Still got time kids.”

  With a manic surge of energy, I swam over to Lola. “You okay?”

  She brushed her hair back with one hand. “Fine.” She splashed water at me and drops of cold spray hit my eyes. “Don’t drop me!”

  My voice was low when I said to Lola, “Emotions at the door, babe. Leave ‘em there.”

  Above the din of the audience, one voice stood out. Devin freaking Stonebreaker. I glanced to the sidelines and saw his annoying face, his fist pumping. “Can’t stand the heat? Go home already!”

  I glared at Devin and my mind obsessed over what I’d done wrong in the lift. Fuck!

  I forced myself to recall all the times Lola and I had gelled as a team. I visualized us holding the trophy over our heads.

  Lola clambered back on the board, her breath slowing. “Come on. Let’s get back out there. Move it, surfer boy.”

  Malcolm and Ruby wasted no time catching another wave.

  Lola sucked in her breath. “The cobra.”

  I watched with a pained stare at their advanced move, Ruby’s legs in a perfect split, one arm in the air. Then in a moment gone horribly wrong, the couple tilted backward and fell into the wave pool.

  The announcer’s voice said, “Holy moly is this one heck of a competition or what? Dee-ra-ma city folks. Wipeouts galore and it’s not even noon.” He cranked the music, and I glanced at the jumbotron in time to see Ruby’s head pop up out of the water. She raised her arms and whooped like this was all a game and then swam hard for the board.

  Lola and I sat in the lineup, and my heart raced as the wave approached. “Come on, Lola, let’s make this a good one. Just like we said. The pike.”

  We caught the next wave, and I lifted Lola into a move that had me gripping her hands tightly while she stretched both legs in front of her body and pointed them skyward.

  “Hey hey, Knight’s Ferry. Check this out,” the announcer boomed. “The Hamilton’s are bringing it home with a perfect pike. Will it be enough to move them to the quarter-finals?”

  When we got to the end of the wave, Lola jumped into the water and squealed with delight. “High-five!” We slapped hands, and it was back to the lineup.

  Malcolm and Ruby caught several more perfect waves and it looked like they’d qualify for the Olympics. Their butterfly could’ve been on the cover of Surfer magazine.

  I set my jaw and focused. “We can do this.” I let out a breath. “Do you trust me, Lola?”

  She met my eyes and nodded.

  “Come on, let’s show ‘em what we got.” The clock counted down in a heat that felt like an unreal trance. And—in a heat that started out iffy—Lola and I pulled out all the stops, the two of us working in complete harmony. Yes! The crowd went wild as Lola and I showed off our falcon and arabesque stand, and I was particularly proud of our small arrow.

  Finally, the heat was over, and we exited the wave pool, a bounce in my step.

  We passed Devin and Kristin entering the wave pool. Devin snorted and shook his head. “Don’t remodel the shop yet, Justice.” He stopped for a moment, and I stared into his cold, flinty eyes. “This thing’s far from over.”

  If I thought we’d have an easy in-and-out, slam dunk at the competition like our days of teenage-hood, I was dead wrong. The competition was ferocious.

  Lola and I stood on the edge of the wave pool and watched Devin and Kristin compete. My muscles bunched when she gripped my arm. “They’re so good.”

  Devin and Kristin faced stiff competition against a couple from Australia. The Stonebreakers ate it once, the two of them plunging into the wave pool with a satisfying splash.

  “Maybe they’re not all that,” I said. But then they came back with a vengeance as Devin hoisted Kristin up into a flawless split acro. “Holy …” I sucked in a breath. “That’s the highest scoring lift.”

  “Come on, Justice,” Lola said. “Let’s go. We don’t need to stand here when they’re done.”

  Right before the lunch break, the announcer declared the morning winners.

  “And moving on to the quarterfinals …” He read off so many names for so long that I thought we must’ve been eliminated. My heart felt like it was shrinking. I couldn’t lose the shop!

  Lola squeezed my hand tightly, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “… Devin and Kristin Stonebreaker from La Fortuna, California …” a few more names were announced. “… Justice and Lola Hamilton from La Fortuna, California. Congratulations couples. We’ll see you this afternoon at the quarterfinals.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Then I buried my head in Lola’s neck. My voice was hoarse. “We did it, babe.”

  Thirty-Two

  Lola

  Justice and I had practiced the best we could, but I had no idea how fierce the competitors would be.

  We had to win.

  As the days of our trip had progressed, the intensity between Justice and I only grew. We were best friends, and he was everything I’d ever dreamed of in a lover. What was the matter with me? I had actually allowed myself to dream about what life would be like between us if we stayed together.

  Winning the contest would mean Justice could save the shop and I could quit the bank.

  We would live together and work together. I would spend my days in creative bliss. My mind brimmed with ideas of new designs and with Bobbie’s help we would market the business until
everyone on the globe knew Brazilian Gypsy – bikinis by Lola. We could even branch out into clothing, wetsuits with vibrant patterns, maybe even home designs—rugs, bedspreads, heck, even dishware and pet bowls would carry my name and custom designs. And then, when I was ready, we’d make beautiful babies together.

  But if we didn’t win the contest?

  I couldn’t bear to think of Justice’s face as the bulldozers showed up and demolished every dream his Uncle Seth had ever had. Papaw would suffer the loss of not only his son but also the shop would be destroyed by Devin, a man who didn’t care about anything but hurting our family and winning his estupido awards, piling up more money than he knew what to do with.

  And then what?

  Justice and I would ride off into the sunset on his Triumph?

  I don’t think so.

  Justice was a proud man. He loved me and wanted to be a real man, a man who I could depend on. Justice kept telling me he loved me and I believed him. We were soul mates. But there was more to life than romantic fantasies. Justice wouldn’t be able to live anywhere near Devin and his stupid Whole Foods with the loft apartments. It would be too painful. I would be willing to move wherever Justice lived. But he hadn’t asked me to. I had to believe that after the contest, everything would go back to the way it had been before Justice returned to town.

  I took a deep breath and forced myself to concentrate on winning. We would win. There was no choice.

  After lunch, the crowd reconvened and the announcer, his excited voice booming over a background of surf music, broadcast the early afternoon heats. “The teams who emerge from this round will move on to the semi-finals … Rusty and Jan Sugarman from Half Moon Bay, California against Justice and Lola Hamilton from La Fortuna, California … Jim and Lexi Brown from Carmel Beach, California against Devin and Kristin Stonebreaker from La Fortuna, California. Good luck teams!”

  When it was time for our heat, Justice and I stood at the edge of the wave pool. My heartbeat sped up as I gazed into his electric blue eyes.

 

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