Riptide (Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances Book 2)

by Michelle Mankin

  “Why you acting like this?” His brows drew together.

  “Like what?” I feigned nonchalance.

  “Like I didn’t just drop you off fifteen minutes ago. Like I didn’t just have my mouth on your…”

  “Whoa,” Simone said, rescuing me in a major way. “Look at the TMI, I mean time. I just remembered. I’m expecting a very important phone call. From Linc.” She gave me a pointed look. “Take the rest of the day off. I can handle the shop. We’ll talk later. Got it?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  Ramon slid into the seat she vacated. I stared at him as he tipped the beer he had brought along to his mouth, pretending that I wasn’t recalling how good his lips had felt on the most secret part of me. I suppressed a shiver.

  He set the bottle on the table and leveled me with a look. “I’m guessing you heard about Vassel and think I’m being a caveman.”

  I shook my head. Did he not realize that I’d seen him with the blonde? “I mean, yeah, sure, I heard about it. I don’t know what he said to you, but…”

  “He said you’re a cock tease who just needs to get laid.”

  “Is that so? Well, in that case.” I picked up the beer bottle and glanced around. “Maybe I should take a crack at him myself.”

  “I clocked him pretty hard. He’s gonna have trouble seeing clearly out of that one eye for a while.”

  “Ok. Well, good, I think.” I frowned. I wasn’t big on revenge, but I didn’t much care for Vassel talking smack about me. He didn’t even really know me.

  Ramon covered my hand with his own, encouraging me to set the bottle back down on the table. He squeezed my fingers after I did. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

  “Remember that,” I warned him, looking him straight in the eye.

  He grinned as if he found my sternness amusing. “So you don’t have to go back to work, right?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Excellent. Let’s get something to eat and go surfing. I missed out this morning since you abandoned me. So where will it be? Your beach or mine?”

  * * *

  Ramon

  I watched her pushing her food around on her plate, wondering what was on her mind. She had seemed a lot more settled before I had dropped her off at work.

  I was just getting ready to interrogate her when my phone rang. “Hey, Pop. Donde estás?”

  “Bueno,” he replied. “I’m at the mercado getting stocked up for dinner tonight, and I was thinking you and Karen should join us. Like old times.”

  “That’s a great idea. She’s actually sitting across from me right now. Let me ask her.”

  “I’d love to.” The storm clouds rolled away from Karen’s eyes when I relayed his invitation.

  “She’s in,” I told him.

  “Fabuloso! I’ll make mole. Can you do the rice? Maybe some guacamole. The avocados are always better over at Lavon’s.”

  “Sí. No problem.”

  “What can I bring?” Karen asked.

  “Tell her to bring herself.” My dad heard her question. “That because she makes you smile, she makes me smile. I have to tell you, I’m glad to know you two are spending time together again. You’re too old to keep chasing those empty headed mamacitas. Karen is such a nice girl.”

  “Pop, you don’t have to sell me on her finer points.”

  I was all too aware of them. Sitting across the table from her, I remembered how good she felt around my cock, how sweet she tasted on my tongue and the sexy sounds she made when she came. Cock hard and ready for another round, I stared at her as she sipped her club soda wondering if her lips would be cold right now if I kissed them. Could I touch her like a lover whenever I wanted? I didn’t know what privileges she would allow me outside of our contract. Not that it mattered, I decided. I was pretty confident I could persuade her, in the bedroom and outside of it.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Karen

  I pushed the cart down the aisle of the small grocery store that my dad had once owned but sold to the Lavon’s chain. Ramon tossed the ingredients he selected for his contribution to the evening meal into the basket. I was trying to reconcile the way this domestic chore and the rest of the day with him fit in with reality.

  I wasn’t having much luck.

  “Stay here,” he told me, brushing my damp braid aside to press his warm lips to the back of my neck. My stomach went aerial in response. “I forgot the garlic. I’ll be right back.”

  I nodded, lusting after him as he walked away. Knowing he was commando beneath that swimsuit made it difficult to think about anything else but testing to see if his ass felt as taut as it looked. His no touching rule was making me crazy, especially since he didn’t place the same restriction on himself. At lunch he had scooted over to my side of the table, pressing his leg against mine. Every time he shifted, and I think he had done it on purpose, his warm masculine thigh caressed my smooth bare one. When we had been in the water, it had been even worse. Lingering touches and frequent kisses stoked the embers leaving me feverish for him all afternoon.

  “Got it.” Curls seeming synchronized to his jaunty strides, he moved right to me and brushed a kiss across my lips. Rewarding me for staying put, I guessed. He dropped the garlic in the cart and put his hands on his narrow hips. “Help me out.” He glanced at our cart. “I know I’m forgetting something else.”

  “I wouldn’t know what’s missing. I’m not the chef,” I reminded him. He knew that about me. True, I could bake. I’d inherited that gift from my mother, but cooking had always been my dad’s domain. I found it interesting that Ramon had taken it up. Apparently, all he’d lacked to show off that particular ability was a remodeled kitchen to work in.

  “You have other talents so I’ll let your lack of culinary abilities slide.” He stroked a finger over my skin leaving chill bumps on my arm where he had touched me. “I remember now.” He frowned at me. “You were going to get bath gel and some shampoo to keep at my place.”

  “No it’s alright. You can just drop me at my house before dinner. It’s on the way. My clothes and everything I need are there.”

  “Not everything you need.” He came closer, his eyes darkening with intent as he moved me steadily backward. My rear hit the shelves behind me jostling the bath products. “I don’t plan on showering alone.”

  “Hey, Sunshine.”

  Ramon and I both turned our heads as my parents approached. Their own cart overflowed with groceries. They glanced back and forth between me and the sexy but pushy Dirt Dogs’ guitarist. I noticed them scoping out the contents of our basket. A box of my favorite chocolate flavored breakfast cereal lay conspicuously at the top of the pile.

  “Hey.” I slid away from Ramon, hugged my dad and kissed my mom’s cheek.

  “You doing a little grocery shopping together?” My dad’s eyes widened subtly as he began to draw conclusions.

  “Yeah,” I nodded, positioning my body in front of Ramon’s cart. “His dad invited me over for dinner. Ramon’s cooking. I’m just helping out.”

  My dad’s brow scrunched. “And you’re staying over at his place again tonight?” His eyes narrowed on Ramon who had moved in behind me. I could feel the heat from his body, smell the salt of the ocean on his skin. My heart started pounding hard.

  “I might be having memory problems, daughter, but my mind still works well enough, and I can see just fine. Seems to me that you two are moving things ahead pretty fast.”

  I swallowed, trying to think what to say, wrestling with the same conundrum I’d had with Simone.

  “Maybe I would feel that way if Karen were my daughter. But she and I have known each other for fifteen years, sir. We’ve been friends nearly all that time. It doesn’t feel fast to me at all. It feels exactly right.” Closeout. Slammed flat by words instead of a wave. Though I was sure he didn’t really mean them, those words made me feel like when I rode a big one and it unexpectedly collapsed on top of me. Ramon rested his hand on my shoulders while I
swam for the surface. Apparently, this was the way we were going to play it. We hadn’t discussed what we were going to tell people, though pretending we had a relationship made the most sense. It disturbing me how badly I wanted to believe those words. That today had been real. The grocery shopping. Buying sundries to keep at his house. Things people did when they were moving in together.

  My dad’s expression revealed his unease. He gave me a long searching look. “That the way it feels for you, Sunshine?”

  “Yeah, Daddy.” I nodded, meaning what I said. He seemed to read the sincerity in my gaze.

  “Alright, then,” he decided.

  My mom shifted closer to my dad. Was it approval that sparkled in her eyes? “Your dad and I are getting ready to check out. Do you want to come over for a while? Or were you planning to wear your wet swim things to dinner?”

  “I’ll come home.” I felt Ramon’s fingers flex on my shoulders. I turned to look at him. Disapproval brimmed in his gaze.

  “Pick up stuff to bring to my place while you’re there. A couple of outfits. Bath gel. That kind of thing. Right?” One of his brows rose. He painted me right into the corner where he wanted me…at his house. His lips curled into an insolent grin. “Since you’ll be staying there a lot.”

  * * *

  Ramon

  She smelled so good, she was driving me crazy. Or maybe I was driving myself crazy trying to drive her crazy. I knew she liked being touched. I had watched her shiver, seen her eyes darken numerous times during the day after I had caressed or kissed her. I wanted her to be turned on so there would be no chance she would refuse me when I suggested she stay at my place tonight. Problem was I think I was more turned on than she was. Sitting beside her, my stomach was full of my dad’s Mexican food, but I still had a hunger for her that I suspected was never going to be sated. I had spoken the truth to her father. And it wasn’t only her body I craved.

  It was her company.

  Her smile.

  Her sass.

  Her strength.

  Her.

  I reached under the table and squeezed her thigh. She put on a decent performance. She didn’t let on when I kept my hand on her leg and stroked my thumb back and forth over her smooth as satin skin, but her lips parted as she caught her breath.

  “Dinner was delicious, Mr. Martinez. Thank you,” she told my dad.

  “Call me Enrique, please. We’ve known each other much too long to be so formal.” He reached for her empty plate to clear the table. “Are you ready for my chocolate flan?”

  “Absolutely.” She grinned. “But only if you let me help with the dishes.”

  “Sí. I’d like that.”

  We worked together cleaning up. My dad washed. Karen dried, and I put things away since I knew where they went.

  “Much more humble when he’s at home, no?”

  “He’s never been stuck up,” Karen said, and I could tell she believed it. It made me happy to hear her voice it. Her opinion mattered. It was a challenge not to let all the rock star stuff go to your head when you were in the middle of it. She’d seen the craziness up close. I think she knew. But I think she also knew that me being a performer wasn’t all of who I was. A son. A surfer. A friend. A lover. In fact, she knew me better than anyone.

  The doorbell ringing startled me. I jostled the plate I had been putting away.

  “You expecting anyone, Pop?”

  He took the stopper out the drain and dried his hands, seeming to avoid my eyes as he brushed by me on the way to get the door. My hackles rose. I closed the cabinet and stood in the doorframe of the kitchen, Karen behind me as he opened the door to the apartment to admit her.

  My mother.

  The puta.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Karen

  I had never been introduced to Ramon’s mother. I don’t think he planned for me to ever meet her. His dad had apparently invited her without telling him, and it was obvious from the moment she entered the apartment accompanied by Gonzolo and his daughter that her youngest son despised her. Beautiful on the outside, a head of glossy curls like his cascading to her waist, she had to be at least mid-fifties, but she barely looked thirty with her cafe au lait skin, dark exotic eyes and sensual lips. A knockout. The feminine version of him. But that was where any resemblance ended.

  “Mamacita,” Ramon said in disrespect as she went straight to his father and attached herself to his side. “You’re looking…well.”

  “You too, mijo.” Her gaze swept to me. Her eyes narrowed. “You never bring your women home. Why this one?” She looked down her nose at me. “Because she is a guera, I think.” She spit the slang for white girl at me.

  “Karen is a friend.” Enrique frowned. “I told you she would be here. We are Latino and she is not, but that is not the sum of who we are as people. Let’s not draw lines between us over the color of our skin. Karen never has. You promised you would try not to antagonize Ramon this time.”

  “I apologize,” she said to Ramon, ignoring me. Her tone rang blatantly insincere, but I don’t think his father noticed with her hand on his chest and her ample breasts pressed into his arm.

  “Nice to meet you, Karen. Enrique speaks very highly of you.” Another dismissive glance, leaving little doubt that she didn’t share his opinion.

  “Likewise,” I returned politely without any additional words. We all stood uncomfortably in the small living room for a long moment of tense silence. Gonzolo’s daughter finally broke it.

  “Hi, I’m Luna.” The pretty eleven-year-old glanced over at me, her chocolate eyes reminding me of Ramon.

  “I’m sorry. Forgive me for failing so poorly at the introductions,” Gonzolo apologized.

  “It’s ok, Papi.” She looked over at her grandmother as if that explained everything. I got the idea everyone made allowances for Ramon’s mother for Enrique’s sake.

  “Hi, Luna. Your uncle has told me a lot about you over the years. Your photos are only half as beautiful as you are in real life. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Gracias. Thank you for the compliment.” She blushed, and her gaze dropped to her sandaled feet.

  “So who wants some chocolate flan?” Enrique asked.

  “Me,” I said enthusiastically.

  “Sit down everyone. I’ll get some plates.”

  “I’ll help, Pop.” Ramon followed his father into the kitchen. I overheard a couple of angry whispers as the rest of us took seats around the table.

  Ramon reemerged from the kitchen a moment later, his expression taut and his frame tense as he took the seat beside me. It didn’t take long for the next bolt of lightning to strike.

  “So how well do you and my youngest son know each other?” his mother asked me.

  “None of your business, Mamá,” Ramon replied tersely.

  “Son,” Enrique cautioned.

  “Pop, I don’t want her here when I’m around. I’ve told you.”

  “Won’t you make this small exception for me?”

  “Sí.” Ramon nodded, his reluctant dark curls falling over his creased brow. I wanted to offer him my support. I would have reached for his hand under the table, but we had our rules and at the moment I hated them almost as much as he seemed to hate her.

  Fortified by the excellent flan and strong coffee, I dared to restart the conversation.

  “So how has school gone this year, Luna?”

  “It’s ok. I’m looking forward to the summer. I like your dress,” she told me.

  “Thank you. It’s a Roxy from a couple of years ago. It’s a second, a garment that couldn’t be put up for sale because it has a small flaw. I have a couple of boxes of them at my parents’ house. I was planning to give them away. Would you like to come over some time and go through them with me to see if there are any you would like to have?”

  Luna nodded and started to say something, but her grandmother interrupted her.

  You think because she is Mexican,” she glared at me, “that she needs your
charity? Luna doesn’t need your leftovers. Gonzolo makes plenty of money. So do I.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” I stiffened defensively.

  “It’s ok.” Gonzolo’s jaw was tense. “No one took it that way except for her.”

  “I would love to see what you have,” Luna said, sounding more mature than her age. “And I’d like to ask you some questions about when you used to work for Roxy if you have time. I like fashion, too. Accessories especially. I made this headband.” She reached up to touch the flower with the contrasting ribbon that held back her long hair.

  “It’s beautiful. Did you do that with a glue gun?”

  “No, some of the girls in my school do it that way, but the glue is sticky and it pulls your hair. I do it all by braiding the ribbon.”

  “Very creative. And really pretty. If you did some of those to match some of the clothing we have at the surf shop we could sell them there. They would probably be popular, Luna.”

  “Lu,” she corrected. “It’s Lu for my friends.”

  “Don’t waste your time making friends with one of your uncle’s chicas. He’s like a bee. Once he’s had a taste of their nectar, he’s on to the next flower.”

  I felt the blood rush from my face. The barb stung more than it should have. All the careful touches, all the gentle kisses Ramon had given me today felt tainted. I remembered the woman at the bar. The words from that girl at the OB hotel all those years ago. Suddenly feeling ill, I pushed my plate away.

  “You’re one to talk.” Ramon bit out the words.

  “Cállate, Ramon,” Enrique said. “Por favor.”

  “Do you not see how she is, Pop? Nada beneath her skin but poison and lies. Look at her phone if you don’t believe me. She’s glanced at it a dozen times since she sat down at the table. She’s just stringing you along till the next rich guy comes along and starts buying her shit. Take what you want from her, but don’t bring her to our family dinners.”