Ahead in the Heat
Page 25
She shook her head. “Yeah, sorry. You’re right. I didn’t hear you over the sound of the waves. I was stuck in my own head too.”
“Find anything good in there?”
“Depends.” She stepped closer to him. The tide was coming up, but even the farthest-reaching waves washed up several feet from them in a shell-thin curve of white foam. “Will you listen to me talk about how much of an idiot I’ve been?”
He felt his shoulders loosen a fraction, and only then did he realize how tightly he’d been holding himself. Each breath he took worked against unclenching the pressure in his chest. “Only if you stop calling yourself an idiot.”
She’d put on makeup for the postevent party, dark gray shadow over black liner. At some point in the past hour, she must have cried some, because she’d smeared out at the corners in flares like wings. He rubbed his thumb over the proof of her upset. She stopped him by laying her hand over his. “That’s what it feels like. I hurt you. For no real reason that I can come up with beyond that I was uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” His hand tightened on the side of her face, cupping her jaw. “I wish I hadn’t said anything.”
She shook her head almost frantically. “No. No, it was the best thing. Your delivery kind of sucked, and I stand by my point that you can’t throw things like that at someone because you’ve had a crap day—”
He squeezed her shoulders. “It was unfair of me. I know that. I really did mean to drive you away, and that was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever tried to do. I’d have been pushing away my own heart.”
She gasped. Her lips parted, and tears welled up in those big, dark eyes of hers. Her mouth was a soft pout. “Goddamn it, stop being so sweet when I’m trying to apologize.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. A tear welled over her bottom lashes, and he caught it on the edge of his thumb. “Maybe we both need to do some apologizing.”
“I’m first,” she said, showing her stubborn streak. “I was so mean, Sean. You’re the last person in the world I’d want to be awful to, but the words just dropped out of my mouth, and at that moment I was so damn sure I was right. But then . . . since then . . . it’s like my heart has been missing from my chest.”
He swallowed and traced the curve of her ear. It was easier to tuck a lock of hair away than to look at her eyes. “Then why did you say those things? Jesus, Annie. I told you something I’ve never told anyone else.”
“It felt like manipulation.”
He winced. “And that’s my fault.”
“No, no!” Her hands spread across his chest. “It only felt like that because of how strongly I was affected. How bad I felt for you and the way I wanted to wrap you up and promise to make sure you never hurt again. I didn’t understand that I was even capable of feeling that deeply. So I misidentified it. That’s all on me. Not on you.”
“Fuck, that’s harsh.” He swallowed. The lightness that had started in the middle of his chest began to sink away. “That’s the kind of suckage that I don’t know if I can forget.”
Her shoulders drooped, and her head did too. The tears that had barely been leaking out suddenly broke in a cascade of searing tracks. Her tiny oh was as dejected a sound as he’d ever heard before. “No, okay. I get it. I fucked up. You can’t be with someone you can’t trust.”
Except the last thing in the world that he wanted was to walk away at this moment. He was glued to her. Tied with invisible bonds that might have to learn to stretch or to twist . . . but they’d never break.
He thumbed away her tears and lifted her face. A thin track of mascara marked the path of her tears. “Annie . . . I trust you.”
Chapter 37
Annie had never thought she’d hear those words from Sean. Not after what she’d done. How badly she’d freaked out. His head was bent toward her, and his hands on her had more power than she’d ever felt. The tide started to lick their feet with the relative chill of the waves, but she hardly noticed. The water nibbled away at the sand beneath her feet, but she only dug in and held on. And that was exactly what she meant to do for the rest of her life with this man.
“Sean, don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”
He flashed her a smile that was faintly dumbfounded. His eyes were so bright, she almost thought their intensity was caused by a sheen of tears. She couldn’t quite tell in the gleam of the setting sun. Her heart wanted to believe it, but the stunned part of her brain said she had finally lost it. Then he followed it up with a harsh laugh. “I tell you that I love you, and you tell me that I’m wrong. But I tell you that I trust you, and that’s what does it for you?”
She giggled, even though the response felt a little hysterical as the sound bubbled up through her throat. “What can I say? I’m a strange girl.”
He wrapped his arms tightly around her. She was safe there. She was even safer when she lifted her face to his and he took her with an overwhelming kiss. His lips skated over hers, came back again and again to sip at her. Even the waves coming up around their ankles weren’t enough to tear them apart.
Annie wound her arms around his shoulders and laced her fingers together. She’d do whatever it took to hold him close, to keep him wrapped up with her. “I need you, Sean. I thought I was all better, all healed and perfect as I was. So independent that I insisted on doing everything alone.” She sobbed. “But I needed your life. I needed you to bring me back to the things I’d once loved.”
“You’re the one who brought yourself back to life.” His strong, broad hand on her face was a source of heat and strength. “You’re a surfer, Annie. That’s your joy. I didn’t do anything but offer you a board. That was all.”
“You’re so full of it.” Her tears and laughter mixed together in a strange hybrid of emotion. Everything smacked into her at once. She hadn’t realized how empty she’d been. How much she’d been looking for someone like Sean to stand at her side. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a long time, or I wouldn’t have fired you as a client.”
“I made it worth it,” he said with a ghost of his usual cocky smile.
She let her neck bend enough that her forehead pressed against his chest. He still wore the red rash guard he’d competed in. He’d gone straight to the winner’s podium, to interviews, to what was supposed to be his big party. The celebration of his win. And she’d thrown a giant monkey wrench into the process. Still, it was the most casual she’d seen him other than when he was naked. For Sean, there were only two speeds—hard and harder. One involved impressing everyone to make sure they didn’t see behind his image. The fastest way to impress everyone was winning. Winning wasn’t as easy as breathing for him. It was something he fought for with every bone in his body and every brain cell he could fire up. If he could start tapping into that fire, he could move right up the ranks.
He rested his chin on the top of her head. She was sheltered in his arms, completely safe from the rest of the world. “So I suppose this is a good moment to tell you that I signed off on all the funding for your center?”
“What?” Her voice approached a screech. No, scratch that, it was a total screech. She pushed back in his arms so far that she could see the way his blue eyes gleamed. “You’re lying.”
“Never.”
“When the hell did you do that?”
He cupped the back of her head, and she wasn’t sure if he was trying to keep her from leaning back too far, or trying to bring her closer to him. It didn’t really matter, though. The point was that she loved the curve of his mouth and the way his cheeks had softened. “About fifteen minutes before I walked into the Coyote team afterparty.”
The sobs welled up like lava from a Hawaiian volcano. They burned her from the inside out. She pressed her face to the silky fabric of his rash guard. “No. You did not. Why would you do something like that?”
“Because it’s the
right thing to do.” He kissed her cheeks, his lips wiping away the tracks of her tears. “Because the center is a good thing that deserves to happen. Even if it’s not your bonus. Even if you and I weren’t going to be together . . . I wasn’t going to punish the kids who could have benefited from it.”
“You’re insane,” she said, but her sobs were fading away. In the wake of the lava was new land. New territory she’d explore.
“Does that mean you don’t want it?” he teased, dipping his knees to look her in the eyes. His smile sparked her all the way from her toes to the tips of her fingers. “I suppose I could figure out a way to take it back.”
“Don’t you dare!” She hiccuped, she’d been crying so hard. She dashed away her tears with the backs of her hands. The smile on her face threatened to squeeze her cheeks. “If you take it back, I won’t be able to hire a director. And if I can’t hire a director, I can’t visit you on tour.”
He froze. “Do you mean that, Annie? I wouldn’t ask it of you. I’d come home to Southern California all I could. It could be enough.”
“It could be . . . but I don’t want it to.” She pressed her mouth to his, taking in his growl to herself. His grasp squeezed tight around her waist. She was possessed by him, but that was okay, because she possessed him right back. “I love you, Sean. You’re not getting any farther away from me than absolutely necessary.”
“Say that again.”
“I love you.”
He shook his head. “No, the other part.”
“That you’re not getting away from me?”
“That.” He sounded reverent. “I wasn’t wanted before, Annie. I’ve been thrown away many times in my life before this. The thought that you might do it too . . .”
“Never. Never, never. I promise, Sean. We’ll be together. And I want you desperately.”
“I want you too, Annie. Forever.”
Epilogue
Five months later
Annie dropped off the lip, free-floating on her board for a split second that felt more like a year. The back rail caught, and she thought she was going to lose her balance. She dug down, reaching between her bent knees to catch the rail. Her other hand flew out toward the tail of the board for balance. Her heart leaped into her throat, but she swallowed it down.
The wave was chasing her, the barrel throwing down over her head. She leaned back on her board, dropping her balance toward the tail in order to slow down a fraction. Too much speed would cause her to chase out the far end and never get barreled.
It worked. She was surrounded by water. The green room swallowed her. Her instinct was to close her eyes. She fought it. She kept her eyes peeled, even as adrenaline sang in her veins and her vision blurred. A perfect oval of blue loomed in front of her. Something few people ever saw.
She spread her arms wide so it was like flying and being held tight at the same time. She was surrounded by the ocean. It could swallow her any second, but she wouldn’t let it.
Pumping her board, she sped up enough that she spit out the far end. The gleaming sun suddenly reflecting off acres of water stung her eyes. She finally blinked. She stood long enough that all the speed dropped out of her. Her hands fell to her sides and she turned her face up toward the sun.
She was blessed. This was the best life.
Her board sank at the end, until cool water sloshed over her toes. She dove out, the leash attached to her ankle keeping the board behind her. Getting back to shore was a little swim from the reef, but so worth it.
Especially because Sean was waiting for her. He threw his arms around her as soon as she yanked the Velcro leash strap off her ankle. “You did it!”
He spun her in a full circle. Her feet flew up, and her arms were tight around his shoulders. He was bone dry, and she was soaking wet and had to be clammy as hell. He didn’t seem to care. He held her as close as possible.
“I did Pipeline.” She suddenly realized her heart was thumping a thousand miles an hour. “Oh my God. I did Pipeline. Am I smoking something? I can’t believe I did that.”
Her knees went weak as soon as he put her down. She wobbled, but he was right there. He always was. Whenever she needed support. “You haven’t smoked anything. You’re a damn good surfer. I can’t believe how fast it’s come back to you.”
She laughed. “I’ve been to the best surf spots in the world over the past five months, thanks to you. There’s no better coach.” She lifted, her toes digging into the hot, gleaming white sand. His lips were hot compared to her wet ones, and their kiss was flavored with the salt of the ocean. “You’re amazing to me.”
“Coaching you has been good for my game.” He pushed wet hair back off her cheeks. “The Pipeline Pro tomorrow will prove it. If I don’t fuck it up.”
“Don’t say such a thing,” she said, and gave him a light swat across the chest. Sean wasn’t quite in the lead for the championship, since Jack Crews had that all but tied up. But Sean was doing pretty well in the top ten. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about making the tour next year. Coming back from his injury had infused him with so much extra determination, he’d been practically unstoppable. “You’ll do great.”
He kissed her hard at first, then softly enough that it felt like worship. Tears prickled the backs of her eyes. He was always so good to her. Treated her like she was something special in his life. Living up to the way he looked at her made her a better person. She was something more for having him. And she liked to think that she gave him everything she had in return. “I love you, Sean. You know that, right?”
“I know it.” He kissed her deep and fast. “I love you too. And I’ll love you double as much in a couple years, when I’m a world champion.”
She laughed, hard enough that she went light-headed on the tail of her Pipeline-fueled adrenaline rush. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Read on for an excerpt from the first book in Lorelie Brown’s Pacific Blue series,
RIDING THE WAVE
Available everywhere print and e-books are sold
The past ten years of the waves down under hadn’t been home to Tanner Wright, not like the gray-green swells of San Sebastian. He’d been raised on these Californian waves. His father taught him to surf on a long board, carve out what he could from the slush and be the man he was born to be. It hadn’t been until they were halfway across the world, in a much brighter blue ocean, that he’d realized his dad wasn’t half the man he was supposed to be.
Now Tanner was home again.
And Hank Wright was dead. Buried six months ago.
Tanner faced the waves of San Sebastian alone. The weight of the breeze pushed over his bare neck, scraping across his skin. His toes burrowed into the damp, cool sand. The sun rose behind him, over the expensive beach houses and stores that still hadn’t turned to chains over the decade he’d been gone. The water was the same.
The surfers bobbing past the swells were the same too. Tanner ought to be with them, but he carried a weight. San Sebastian had become an anchor.
In four weeks he’d have to not only surf here, but he’d have to win. Or he’d lose his shot at this year’s pro-surf World Championship. The points were too damn close. Jack Crews, pretty boy and part-time model, didn’t fucking deserve the title. Tanner would be damned before he’d hand it over because he couldn’t man up enough to surf.
A decent set surged, bringing a surfer cruising in with a deep layback before peeling off to the side again. Tanner hardly noticed. A woman popped up on the second wave, taking it all the way in. She didn’t push any tricks, didn’t grab for the rails or try to make air on a front that probably could have supported her.
She breathed pure grace. The easy acceptance of the moment she’d been handed and the tiny fraction of the giant ocean she rode. Her face turned up toward the still-rising sun, golden light kissing the rounded apples of her cheeks. A s
mile curved her generous mouth and she kept her eyes closed, apparently enjoying the feeling of floating into shore. The water soaking her ponytail made it look almost black, but he knew otherwise.
He couldn’t help but smile as he eased down toward the edge of the water. Cool, foam-topped minisurf licked at his toes.
The woman glided in as far as she could standing on her board, but finally hopped off into knee-deep water when she wouldn’t float anymore. She pushed back damp bangs with one hand as she scooped up her board.
Summer’s deep grip meant that even a half hour after dawn it was warm enough for her to be wearing only a bikini top and black shorts. The red halter did good things to a figure entirely more curvy and filled out than he remembered.
“You never could spot a good trick, could you?” He couldn’t keep the laugh out of his voice. “All you had to do was shift and you’d have had a nice little cutback swish on the end.”
Dark gray-green eyes went wide. The nose of her board dropped to the sand with a soft thump and a miniature splash. Her sharp words were in direct contradiction to her stunned look. “Swear to God, if you call me a lazy surfer one more time, I may toss you to the sharks.”
Avalon Knox had always been a bit of a smart-ass. There was no denying the truth. “It’s not my fault you passed up a pro career,” Tanner teased.
She gave a wry smile and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Lifting a hand to her hair, she skimmed loose strands back toward her ponytail. She hadn’t had those pert breasts the last time he’d seen her. But then, she’d been at most fourteen years old and he’d been twenty. Looking at his sister’s best friend would have gotten him strung up.
“Not everyone wants to go pro.” She picked the board up and hitched it under her arm. “C’mon. I’ll walk you back to the house.”