Another Shot with Summer

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Another Shot with Summer Page 18

by Michele De Winton


  The man behind the microphone was unmoved. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  She squinted up the beach, searching for T.J., but she couldn’t spot him. “What has he told you?”

  “That it was a mutual decision.” T.J.’s voice came from behind her. She spun around. Taking a deep breath, she looked for Ashton, but he’d been pushed aside by the various reporters and stood on the outside of the throng.

  She had just nailed her event. She had a sponsor, and Maya was fielding calls from two more. And—she caught Ashton’s eye as he stood back—she had Ashton. Whatever twisted game T.J. was playing, she didn’t want any part of it. She cleared her throat, but T.J. interrupted.

  “Summer just nailed the wave of the day. We thought it would be a great time to announce our split. She’s going her way, and I’m going mine. End of story.”

  “There’s nothing more to it?” A reporter was almost begging for details, but T.J. shook his head. “Thanks for all your support while we were together. We hope you’ll be just as supportive of our solo careers. And speaking of solo careers, I have some other pretty damn exciting news. But you’ll have to wait till after the winner’s announcement.”

  “Summer? We still haven’t got a comment from you. Have you got anything else to tell us? What’s next for you?”

  Summer looked at T.J., and he gave her a narrow look, giving her permission to respond but telling her with every muscle of his body to be damn careful what she said.

  “Surfing,” Summer said. “It’s why we’re all here, isn’t it? The thrill of seeing someone ride the unridable? Watching men and women become one with all that water?”

  A new reporter stepped forward. “You must be eternally grateful to T.J., though? All the energy he’s put into your career?”

  Summer smiled as convincingly as she could. “T.J. was a big part of my life and he taught me a lot. But I didn’t get in the water because of him. You all know how hard it is for women in this industry to get ahead. So maybe instead of asking me about my relationships, how about we talk about my technical skill set? I have worked my ass off to get here, and yes, I’m the first woman to make it into this Open event. But there are plenty of others who are worthy of the chance.”

  There was a general murmuring in the crowd, and then a woman reporter beamed at her and waved. “So, Summer, you totally smashed it out there? Got any advice for girl groms?”

  Summer grinned. “Go hard or go home, girls,” she said, and finally, the tone of the gathered reporters lifted.

  Just then the loudspeakers crackled into life. “Almost time, folks. We have our winners. You’re not going to want to miss this one. It’s going to go off louder than a Christmas cracker.”

  “What is with these announcers?” Summer said, and a few of the reporters tittered. But the commentator’s broad Australian drawl was not daunted. “Contestants to the winners’ tent please.”

  “That’s me,” she said, and the crowd dispersed to get to the front of the podium, but the woman reporter sidled up to her.

  “I want to do a full-length feature on you. With more of what you just gave that lot. Inspirational stuff. Tips, trainings, that sort of stuff. You in?”

  “Nothing about my love life?”

  “Not a word.” The woman grinned.

  As if my magic, Maya was by her side. “I’ll set it up,” she said and smoothly handed out her business card before walking the reporter away. Summer gave her a smile of gratitude, but she couldn’t help but look around for Ashton.

  Then, there he was. “That was amazing,” he said. “You were amazing.”

  Summer took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze before dropping it and turning to T.J.

  “Thanks.”

  T.J. shrugged. “I know you think I’m an ass. But I did care about you. For a long time. So who am I to stand in the way of love?” He grinned. “But seriously, I talked to my team, and we decided it would be better for me to get out ahead of you doing so well.”

  Summer laughed. “Good to hear it wasn’t all true altruism. I wouldn’t have known what do to.”

  “It was strategic. Sure.” He shrugged. “But I’m serious. You are going to do well, you get that, right? I know you think I held you back, but I still say it was good for you to wait. Look at where you are now.”

  Summer smiled. “We did have our moments,” she said.

  “We sure did. Anyway. Are we done with the sentimental stuff? Because it’s time for me to get my trophy. See you up there.” He walked up the beach.

  “I’m free.” Summer looked up at Ashton, and he smiled down at her. Blue eyes sparkling, his face full of his grin.

  “Sorry to spoil this touching moment.” It was Brooke. “But you’re up. Come on!”

  Summer looked up the beach and they all rushed up the sand to the winners’ tent.

  When she walked inside tent everyone was on her, slapping her on the back and wolf whistling. Ashton and her friends were swallowed into the crowd.

  Standing on the podium with her third-place trophy, next to T.J. with his first place one, Summer looked out over the crowd and couldn’t believe how much life had changed in such a short time. She saw Brooke, Maya, and all the other female WSL contestants hollering and cheering. It was the first time a woman had ever been placed at an Open WSL event. It was the first time she’d made it to the podium, full stop. And it was made even sweeter when she spotted Ashton in the crowd. He wasn’t hollering. He just held his arms open. Summer gave herself a big hug, trophy included. His message on her mirror had been right; she had seen perfection, and it was a world shared with him. But one where she followed her own dreams instead of someone else’s, and had someone who was going to help her chase them, all day long.

  When she finally climbed down, he was there and led her to a quiet corner behind a set of sponsors screens. “So, does that mean you’re free to date whoever you want?” he asked.

  “It does. Although I’m going to be very discerning. Dickwads need not apply.”

  “What about reformed dickwards? Someone who knows what he’ll miss out on if he walks away again.”

  She pretended to think about it. “I dunno. Once a dickwad, always a dickwad?”

  He sucked in air through his teeth. “What if I tell you I love you? That I’m in love with you. And that I damn well hope you still feel the same way. Will that sway it?”

  She pulled his face down and kissed him. His mouth on hers sent warmth through her whole body, and she pressed against him. He held her like they wouldn’t ever come apart again, molded, fitting one against the other. Finally, though, she broke off and came up for air. “I think that will do it,” she said. “Say it again.”

  “That you’re amazing? Talented, clever, hot, and stupid-great in bed?”

  She laughed again, warm, perfectly content in his arms. “That’s not bad. But no, the other thing.”

  His eyes glinted again, and she saw, like she always did, the promise and beauty and grace of the ocean swimming in his irises.

  “That I love you? That’s easy. I love you, Summer Roberts. Now and forever. So you better be serious about wanting it all, because that’s what I’m gunning for. Everything. With you.” He reached down and laid a soft, perfect kiss on her lips before nuzzling her nose with his.

  “I guess it’s official, then,” she said.

  “Guess so.”

  “Perfect,” he said and pulled her into another kiss.

  Enjoy Summer’s story? Read on for the first chapter of Making over Maya, book two in the Hot Tide Series.

  If he doesn’t ask you out, you have to make the first move. Today. Take off your chicken suit and grow a pair. Maya Taylor played with the straw of her orange juice and realized the ice in her drink was already melted. Fanning her face, she gazed at the white sand and shimmering ocean. It was only eight o’clock and the world already had a heat haze over it. The Australian Gold Coast was hotter than a firecracker lit both ends. She looked at her watch. You ca
n’t do anything if he doesn’t turn up. The world was on fire and so was her heart. She put a hand to her chest, sure that it’s beat was way too fast to be healthy. Calm yourself. She took a deep shaky breath.

  Maya gazed out from the World Surfing League popup beach bar and café, a glorified tent, branded all over with WSL sponsors, and wished she’d adopted somewhere else as an office for the day. Somewhere with walls and air conditioning would be a good start! Maybe that’s what was making her so agitated. Maya checked her watch for the millionth time and tried to ignore her churning stomach. Butterflies be damned, there was a bunch of angry elephants in there.

  It’s gonna happen. He called you this time.

  “Hi, I’m so sorry I’m late. Got stuck signing autographs. Just finished my set and they landed on me.”

  Oh. Mi. God. The voice broke through her internal dialogue and oozed its way between her organs before she had a chance to put up her mental defense bubble. Oh no. Must not melt. Rick Hunter’s voice wasn’t anything as ordinary as golden honey, it was some crazy freshly squeezed angel-lust blood. Seriously, every time it got anywhere close to her ear drums, Maya was sure she’d combust with the effort of not dissolving into a puddle of need on the floor in front of him.

  And then of course, came his body. Stripped down to board shorts and with droplets of salt water still dripping now and then from his hair, pro surfer Rick Hunter was a bronzed, buffed, broad vision of perfection.

  Do not drool.

  He slid into the barstool next to her, kissed her on the cheek and Maya felt the heat of a blush threaten immediately. Kissed, by Rick, I’m-a-better-looking-version-of-James-Franco, Hunter! Gah.

  Resisting the urge to press her hand into her stomach in front of him to stop the squirming ball of lusty elephants from stampeding down into her groin, Maya forced herself to smile. “Got to keep the fans happy. Hope you left all those girls with something to remember you by.”

  Really? Of all the things in the world, that’s what you say?

  His laugh rumbled up from deep within his chest and Rick’s smile cracked broader, sending a sparkle to his dark eyes that should have been illegal. “There were a few guys too. Don’t write me off as just another player Maya. You know I’ve grown up in the past couple years.”

  Indeed she did. Rick Hunter had grown up into something amazing since she’d known him. That was a big reason almost every single female within twenty miles flirted, cajoled and practically salivated over him whenever he flew into town. And that was the reason the churning sensation in her stomach had taken up permanent residence recently. Rick was solid. Consistent. Reliable. Not just hot. All rare traits in a professional surfer. And all traits on her must-have-in-a-man list. She’d been burnt too many times by men to trust fate anymore, she was taking matters, and hopefully Rick, into her own hands. Only thing was, she hadn’t quite told him that yet.

  The rest of her list was finally going well though. Maya was good at her job. Heck, she was great, not that her old boss had ever recognized it. But now she was finally out on her own she was starting to make headway as a PR surf guru. She’d been gratified how many of the men and women she’d surfed side by side with had wanted to sign with her, including Rick. She’d put Rick with one of her first sponsor clients and he’d been a fantastic poster boy for them, good with the obligatory media tours, great on TV, great for her career if she was honest. She had to pinch herself that it was actually happening. She was on the up, and Rick was going to be part of that story.

  Recently they’d been spending a little more time together. After each business meeting, they might share a little food, or a drink, or just chat. He was trying to build something for the future he said. Leverage his amazing talents in the water and make them work for him on land. Maya had pulled off a great new sponsor for him with that hook, a mobile phone company that had nothing to do with surfing, but everything to do with looking, sounding and promoting cool. He’d have quite the nest egg soon.

  And now he’d asked to meet. Outside the office. About a personal matter. Her stomach lurched and she wondered whether the eggs benedict she had for breakfast had more to do with her stomach’s activity than she’d thought. No. No. This wasn’t food poisoning, this was IT. He was going to ask her on a date. Wasn’t he?

  He plowed a hand through his dark hair and what remained of the seawater slicked it back just enough to keep it off his face, but not enough to hide the gentle curl that tugged at the ends of each longish dark strand. Her hands twitched with the desire to stroke the one piece that refused to be smoothed.

  “I’ve been thinking about what’s next for me. Not that I’m planning on stopping surfing anytime soon,” he held up his hands. “But you know, just making sure I’m smashing it. Like you, going out on your own. Sticking it to your boss when you weren’t getting the respect you deserved.”

  Maya’s heart fluttered again. He cared. Cared that she’d taken such a big risk. One that even now she second guessed herself about. He’d always been someone who had told her she could do it. That told her to take herself seriously. Something that added extra credit to his top-of-the-potential-boyfriend-list status.

  “Nice that you noticed.”

  He smiled and again her insides squirmed. She had dared to wonder what that smile would do to her if they ever tumbled into bed. Dissolve her panties instantly? Get her wet before he’d even touched her? Girl! Chill! She gave herself a little shake, she was staring at him, probably drooling. But seriously, if he didn’t get to the asking her out point soon she was literally going to melt into a pile of spent goo.

  “I figure it’s the perfect time for me to make sure I’m living life to the max, fully, you know?” He carried on, oblivious.

  Living life fully. Man. That’s what she wanted. What she always promised she would put at the top of her life’s priority list. She’d made that list very specific. Timing was key, she’d learnt that in PR, so this year was the time to get serious about setting herself up for the rest of her life. This year she was going to cement her place as a serious PR professional, sort a place of her own and settle down with someone special. If she didn’t get those three things ticked off pronto, the rest of her plan would be all out of order and she wasn’t about to let that happen. Not again.

  Rick would make a great boyfriend. A great and generous lover. She snuck a glance at his abs as he leant over and poured himself a glass of water. And he’d definitely make for great arm candy.

  But she wasn’t after a quick thrill. She wasn’t that girl. Never had been. Maya sighed and looked up at Rick through her lashes. He’d help you through it. He would. She was sure she’d be able to get over the ghosts in her bedroom closet with Rick. She’d felt a burgeoning of chemistry between them she was sure of it. They just needed to take the next step. Heck, with her brains, his good looks and gentle personality, they’d make an amazing life together. And amazing babies together. Not yet, but when they were both ready. She’d read a couple of interviews where he’d said he’d always pictured himself having a wife and a bunch of kids. For a moment she pictured them: golden haired children, a girl and two boys. Tanned from hours spent outdoors, hair flecked with sunshine, easy smiles, quick minds. She let a little grin creep onto her face as her imaginary children cavorted in the sparkling shallows of her imaginary future. Then she mentally slapped herself. One step at a time girl.

  But just thinking of the PR coverage she could get Rick-the-dad got her going. She could take surf sponsorship mainstream, into the family arena. He’d make a wonderful father role model, she’d be able to sell the pants off that sort of package if she pitched it right. Incredible that no one had bothered to try yet. Although no one had Rick Hunter to tie it all together. Neither do you genius. Okay. Not yet anyway. But he’d asked to meet her for personal reasons and he’d sounded nervous. That was definite date protocol wasn’t it? The elephants in her stomach trumpeted with glee.

  She sat up straighter and tugged at her shoulder length hone
y-brown curls. Professional. She should look professional, so he didn’t feel any more nervous than he needed to. It was always a little awkward asking out someone you’d known for a while. If that’s what he really was doing. Maya crossed her fingers. Stop it, idiot. She uncrossed them. “So. You wanted to talk?”

  He squirmed.

  She was right! And it was so sweet. A lack of confidence was not usually something Rick Hunter was ever accused of.

  He cleared his throat and stroked his chin. “As you know, my sister’s wedding is coming up. Thanks so much for everything you’ve done for that again. But, well,” he moved his hand from his chin and pushed it through his hair again. “My sister wants me to bring someone and because there’s going to be so much media there, I don’t want to take just anyone, you know.”

  Hells yes she knew. Rick’s sister was marrying another one of the golden boys of the surf circuit and the wedding was practically going to be a live televised event. If Maya had a hundred dollars for every journo who had tried to wheedle into her good books to get an invitation she’d be a wealthy lady.

  “I keep meaning to just walk up and ask, but you’ve taught me so much about timing, preparation and making sure the media don’t get a sniff, I didn’t want to leave it to chance.”

  Better and better. He’d thought this through in great detail.

  “But I know that there’s stuff to organize and all that. The dress for starters. Cos my sister will want everything coordinated.” He rolled his eyes. “So I figured I better not leave it any longer.”

  The dress. Oh the dress. Maya pictured herself wearing the strapless silver maxi she and her girlfriends had spied online not that long ago. Or maybe she could break her neutrals only policy for Rick and try the red mini her girlfriends had liked. And feel like a slapper all night? Hanging about with people in bikinis all day every day should have made her more comfortable to show off a little skin, but her self-conscious bone was well and truly honed. And anyway, she was always working. A professional appearance was key in PR.

 

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