Riptide (A Renegades Novel)

by Skye Jordan

  “And the bad news is,” Tessa said, “he’ll think the woman who wants his daughter is a negligent slut.”

  “He was there too.”

  But it wasn’t the same. That age-old double standard still applied. And worse—he wasn’t the asshole Tessa had built up in her mind. Tessa’s gut burned. She looked at Abby. “He’s not a bad guy. He might sleep around, but he’s genuine and sweet and funny. He even asked about Sophia.”

  “You told him about her?”

  “I said I needed to get back to the hotel, and he asked who was waiting for me. I didn’t go into details. Dammit, he even asked to see a picture of her and said she was cute.”

  Tessa put a fist to the pain in her stomach. She was shaky and sweating and terrified.

  “Does purple go with red?” Sophia’s voice made Tessa jump and turn.

  She held up a sundress that was more orange than red and bright purple leggings. “I want to wear these.”

  A laugh bubbled out of Tessa’s throat. “I think you might be a little hot if you wear both.”

  Sophia’s brow furrowed in concentration as she looked down at the clothes. She gave a dramatic sigh, shrugged, and said, “Back to the drawing board,” before she turned back into the bedroom.

  Tessa started laughing, but the sharp pain of fear cut it off. “I can’t lose her, Abby.” Just saying the words brought tears to her eyes. “I really can’t lose her.”

  Abby met Tessa at the railing with a reassuring hand on her back. “Okay, let’s put this in perspective. He wanted to get you into bed, so, sure, he was a nice guy. But don’t forget, this is also the guy who paid Corinne twenty-five grand to go away when he found out about Sophia.”

  True. But the fear continued eating away at her. “That was four years ago. He’s probably matured. Maybe he regrets doing that.”

  “Then why didn’t he ever search for her? He’s had four years to find Corinne and meet Sophia.”

  That slowed the spin of Tessa’s mind. She took a deep slow breath. “Right.” She nodded, reassuring herself. “That’s true.”

  “And even if he is a nice guy now,” Abby said, “that doesn’t mean he can raise a little girl. A little girl he doesn’t even know.”

  “Right, right.” Okay, this was helping. She needed to pull on her rational side. “And what court would give a little girl to a man who paid the mother off to get rid of them both?”

  Even as Tessa weighed the ding to Zach’s case, she knew in the back of her mind that it wouldn’t outweigh his biological right to Sophia. The jitter kicked up in Tessa’s stomach again. “Oh God…”

  Abby took Tessa by the arms and pulled her around to face her, her gaze glinting with determination. “Nothing has changed. You still have legal guardianship of Sophia. She still considers you her mother. You have both a heart-wrenching letter and video from Corinne stating that very fact to the courts in the event this ever happened. You have me to testify on your behalf. And you need to remember that the reality is, Zach travels all over the world. He doesn’t have the capacity to raise any child, let alone the one he sold off.”

  Tessa nodded, clinging to all facts she had to hold on to when she faced him again.

  The thought pounded a spike of dread into her gut. But she swallowed and shored herself up. “Yeah, okay.” She pulled in a breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay. I should get dressed and go back over there before he leaves for the—”

  “No, you need time to get this right in your head,” Abby said. “You need to spend the day with Sophia at the Discovery Museum so you have some distance and perspective when you approach him again.”

  She frowned at Abby. God, had she been reduced to seeking advice from a twenty-one-year-old with little to no life experience? Then Tessa realized it was exactly what she would have told someone else to do. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay. I’ll get dressed for the museum.”

  But in the bathroom, her fear took over. Tessa locked the door and ran the water in the sink, then crumbled under the wave of terror over the thought of losing Sophia. She slid to the floor, wrapped her arms around her legs, and pressed her face between her knees to muffle her sobs.

  7

  The Sea-Doo towed Zach beyond the point break, and adrenaline surged through his body.

  “Godspeed,” Joe, the driver, called just before Zach released the ski rope.

  A moment later, Keith yelled, “Action,” through a bullhorn from the deck of a powerboat trolling just outside the surf’s breaking zone.

  The waves were monstrous, which would have been a blast if Zach could actually surf them. But today wasn’t about surfing. Today was about getting thrashed.

  He slid into the rhythm of the wave and the way its force swelled beneath him. Zach had been surfing since he was five, had ridden a million waves, but he was still humbled every time he fused with this force of Mother Nature.

  The crest grew and expanded and threatened until a massive wall of water towered twenty feet above Zach’s head. A soothing silence—the calm before the storm—settled around him, the only sounds a splatter here, a kerplunk there and the slice of his board across the water. Zach fell into the Zen of it. That powerful sensation of being one with the sea. Of being embraced by the colossal power of Mother Nature. There was nothing like it.

  He heard the rustle of the first curl as the energy of the wave ebbed and the wall of water curved at the very top, pulling the rest of the wave that direction. In seconds, Zach was cocooned in a tube of pristine, electric turquoise, and the crash of the wave filled his head until he could hear nothing else.

  Crouching to keep his body from interfering with the wave, he gripped the side of his board with one hand to keep it under his feet and lifted his other arm to skim the wave’s wall for balance. To Zach, it felt like an affectionate caress. A way for him to express his love, his passion, his reverence—something no one but an avid surfer would understand.

  The euphoria of the ride spilled through him, the equivalent of ten times the runner’s high. This was the very best sensation on the planet, and one that tugged him back to the ocean like a perpetual rip current, day after day after day.

  Just as he reached the sweet spot of his ride, Zach did the unthinkable. Taking a deep breath to fill his lungs, he murmured, “I’m sorry,” apologizing to the sea for breaking this perfect fusion, and purposefully pushed too hard on one edge of the board.

  The fiberglass caught and instantly flung both Zach and the board into the curl of the wave at forty miles per hour. Up, up, over, slam. The monster hammered him into the surf, forcing a hot spear of pain through his bad shoulder and a grunt from his lungs. Zach kept his mouth clamped tight, holding on to his air. He’d need it for the frenzy that followed.

  He tumbled, tumbled, tumbled, a leaf in a hurricane. Zach did his best to relax into the roll to avoid wasting his energy. The pain subsided, and his thoughts crisscrossed the way they always did when he wiped out. Why the hell was he doing this? Was this really how he should be spending his life? Wasn’t there something more purposeful he should be pursuing beyond sun, surf, sand, and sex?

  They were his father’s words, not his own. Yet whenever he wiped out or got a glimpse of the Grim Reaper—which happened more often than he’d like in this profession—Zach always questioned his choices.

  Just when his lungs started to burn, the spin slowed. As usual, he had no idea which way was up, so he grabbed for his ankle, found the tether of his board, and climbed it as fast as his body would take him. Within seconds, the water’s deep turquoise thinned to light blue, then white, and the choppy surface drifted into sight. Zach relaxed a little and let momentum lift him to the surface. By the time his head broke through the waves, his shoulder burned as badly as his lungs.

  He shook the water out of his face and took a deep breath while immediately assessing the waves. And found another beast bearing down on him. Zach flung an arm over his board and duck-dived beneath the surface, saving himself from the brunt of the impact
as he swam underwater until the turbulence passed.

  When he popped to the surface again, he was between waves and Joe waited nearby on the Sea-Doo. He swam to the Jet Ski, relieved to realize the pain in his shoulder had subsided—for the most part.

  “Wicked wipeout.” Joe offered his hand, and Zach used his good arm to leverage himself onto the machine.

  “Thanks…I think.” Laughing at himself, Zach hiked the board under his arm.

  On the way to shore, Zach rolled his shoulder a few times. A familiar crunch touched his ear, and his anxiety amped. Since Ian had gone on national television and told the world he was taking a movie deal, there had been hints and murmurs about Zach being considered for his replacement, but nothing solid. The crunch in his shoulder joint made Zach hope something materialized soon.

  He jumped off in knee-deep water and made his way up the sand toward the gaggle of crew clustered around Shawn and his camera playback screen. The group included Jax Chamberlin, the owner of Renegades Stunt Company. He and his girl, Lexi, had flown in that morning for a quick vacation. Zach’s agent, Marshall Kingston, was also looking over the playback. Just beyond the group, Lexi was chatting with Tucker, Josh, and Grace.

  The boat carrying Keith and the film crew neared the shore.

  “Zach,” Keith called. “Hold up.”

  He stopped to wait for the director, muttering, “Shit” under his breath and rolling his shoulder one more time. This was one of those rare moments he might have to tell them he couldn’t take “just one more run” for the cameras. Shitty timing to look like a slacker.

  “Fan-fucking-tastic, Zach,” Keith said, jumping from the boat. “Wait until you see that on film.” He drew near, slapped Zach on the shoulder, then continued up the beach with him. “I’m telling you, fan-fucking-tastic.”

  Halle-fucking-lujah. “Great. I’m glad.”

  “Hey,” he said, his voice falling a notch. “I’m sure you’ve heard there’s a little buzz going on about Ian and his part. If he didn’t leave at the end of the season, we were going to kick him to the curb. Your name has been floating around the cogs for months as his replacement. I’m pullin’ for you, kid. I really want to see you in his spot. The fans would eat you up.”

  A whole new kind of buzz lightened Zach’s mood. “Thanks, Keith, I appreciate that.”

  “You’ve earned it, kid. You work your ass off out there. Don’t think we don’t notice. You may need to do some training during the off-season if they want you. You know, a cop school to teach you how to hold a weapon, how to breach buildings, other protocols, that sort of thing. How do you feel about that?”

  “Sounds fun. Where? Here?”

  “No. LA.”

  Even better. “Not a problem.”

  When they neared the others, Keith smiled and gave Zach’s shoulder another slap. “Good to hear. You get some rest tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Zach stood back from the crowd a few yards as Keith passed the others on his way up the beach, calling, “Don’t break your eyeballs. We got everything we could ever need from the boat. Wrap for the day.”

  Jax offered Zach a grin and a thumbs-up.

  He continued toward the crew, and Lexi met him halfway, offering a hug.

  “I’m all wet, Lex.”

  “I don’t care. Come here.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. When she let go, she grinned at him with an excited spark in her clear blue eyes. “I think you’ve got great news coming your way.”

  Taking the part meant that Zach wouldn’t be working stunts for Renegades anymore. It also meant he’d be running all the surfing stunts in the series, which would take business away from Renegades. Yet the entire company couldn’t have been pushing any harder for him. These were real friends, and he felt blessed whenever he spent time with them.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Dude,” Marshall said, extending his hand. “Killer moves.”

  “Hey, Marshall.” They shook.

  “We’ve got to put our heads together.”

  Zach nodded. He hoped Marshall had some inside scoop from the studio.

  “You took a thrashing out there, bud,” Tucker told him.

  “Learned from the best.” That made Tucker laugh, because he and Zach had learned from each other.

  Zach dropped his board on the sand. He accepted a bottle of water from one of the production assistants and downed half.

  Jax turned toward him and shook his hand. “Just a few more days, and this season will be a wrap.”

  “Yep.” Which also meant Zach’s main revenue stream would dry up. He sure hoped this part panned out. Otherwise, he’d be pimping himself out for side jobs between competitions again. The thought made him roll his shoulder. As soon as Jax’s gaze slid that direction, Zach cursed himself.

  “Josh is worried about that,” Jax said.

  “Josh worries about everything,” Marshall said, coming to Zach’s defense.

  “True that,” Lexi said.

  “In fact,” Zach said, “you pay him to worry. So it wouldn’t be right if he wasn’t worried, now would it?”

  Lexi slid up beside Jax and wrapped her arm around his waist. “He has a point.”

  Jax just as easily and naturally wrapped his arm around Lexi’s shoulders, grinning down at her. Something stirred inside Zach. A craving he didn’t understand. Equally puzzling, Tessa came to mind. He hadn’t spoken with her since she’d slipped out of his room the morning before last to sneak back to her condo before her daughter woke, but he had to admit, she rarely left his thoughts. And now he had the strangest longing for something a lot like what Jax and Lexi had. Comfort, companionship, friendship…love?

  Fuckin’ A, he must have hit his head underwater. He didn’t know the first thing about love. He sure as shit didn’t know anything about kids. And she lived in fucking DC.

  “Zach?”

  “Huh? What?”

  “We’re still meeting at Lahaina for dinner?”

  “Oh, right. Sure.”

  Jax grinned and nodded. “See you there.”

  While Jax and Lexi started for the parking lot, Zach turned, searching for a towel. He found one of the crew members standing ready with fluffy white terry. He usually had to find his own. Only Ian had crew members fawning over him.

  Zach took the towel with a chuckle. “I could get used to this.”

  “You might have to.” Marshall wandered to his side and lowered his voice. “This is real, Zach. The studio execs want to sit down once they shore things up with the bean counters. This is your first step toward the Hollywood Walk of Fame.”

  Zach laughed. “We’re a hell of a long way from that.”

  Excitement bubbled beneath the surface, but he’d learned too often over the years that getting excited about something before it happened was as good as willing your defeat. His best breaks came when he planned, trained, visualized, worked hard, stayed positive, and trusted in the universe.

  “Closer than you think,” Marshall insisted. “Your hard work with the stunts this season has paid off. Being a member of the Surfers’ Hall of Fame isn’t hurting your credibility either.”

  “Now that,” he admitted with a chuckle, “that was seriously cool.” He tossed the towel over his shoulder. “I’m going to stop by the hotel to clean up before dinner. I’ll see you at the restaurant.”

  They bumped fists. When Marshall walked up the beach toward his car, another crew member brought Zach his phone, telling him, “It’s been ringing.”

  His mind immediately veered to Tessa again. She’d sounded pretty set on leaving two days ago, but Zach kept hoping for a call anyway.

  “Thanks.” Zach was thinking about picking up some Advil on his way back to the hotel while he squinted at the screen. Two missed calls from a number he didn’t know, an area code two-zero-two. Wherever that was.

  He tapped into his waiting text message. The first line read: Hey there, it’s Tessa.

  His
heart took an extra hard beat. Zach stepped into the shade of the canopy to read the rest.

  We’ve decided to stay another few days. I’d like to see you when you’re free.

  Adrenaline spurted into his bloodstream. Zach dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and pumped his fist. “Yes.”

  He texted back immediately. I’ll make myself available at your request.

  He didn’t give a shit how pathetic he looked. He had a very small window of time to enjoy this unique creature, and he knew it.

  She returned a smiley emoji and How about dinner?

  “Ah, crap.” Figured she’d ask when he had plans. He sighed and weighed his options. Jax and Lexi would be here for a few days. His talk with Marshall could wait. It wasn’t like the studio had made an offer. But he couldn’t get together with the vixen attorney just anytime.

  So he texted back Name the time and place. I only need thirty minutes—I’m still on the beach, but headed back to the hotel.

  While Zach waited for her response, he texted Jax and told him he was bailing on dinner. Then he texted Marshall and told him they could talk business over breakfast or lunch tomorrow.

  Ka’ana or Fleetwood’s? Tessa texted. I’ll make reservations.

  “I like this bold new version of you, baby,” he murmured, already wondering how their second night together would be. Judging by how amazing their first night had been, his bet was their second would be a fucking blockbuster.

  But he hesitated with his reply. If she didn’t have a kid, he would have insisted on walking over to get her at the condo before they headed out. That would give them prime warm-up time in the cab on the drive to the restaurant. He was anxious to get his lips back on hers. Would kill to get her into another shower with him. But he wasn’t particularly interested in meeting a three-year-old.

  Still, he texted: Two of my favorite places. You choose. Should I come over and pick you up?

  I’m already out. I’ll meet you at Ka’ana.

  He smiled, texted: Perfect, grabbed his gear, and jogged toward the parking lot.