Sea of Seduction: A Single Dad Sports Romance

by Jennifer Evans

  My body shook hard and my heart beat so wildly I thought I’d have a heart attack.

  “Not as sorry as I am.” I grabbed at my hair. “I thought I could trust you,” I screamed. “I thought we were friends. Do you want to know what happened when Dominick came back to the hotel?” I shuddered remembering his temper.

  Rhys said, “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  I laughed, a shrill laugh. “Do you mean with his fists or with his words? No Rhys, he didn’t hit me if that’s what you wanted to hear so you could go gossip about that to the whole town too.” A sob escaped me. “He hates me. He’ll never speak to me again.” I broke down in tears, my shoulders shaking.

  Rhys took a tentative step toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I batted it away. “Don’t touch me. I hate you!” I jabbed a finger in his face. “You ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I fell to my knees, my body shaking, crying uncontrollably. “I love him. Last night he told me he loved me.”

  A self-righteousness replaced my sadness, and I stood up fast. My head swirled and the room smelled of burnt bacon. “I want you to listen real good, Rhys. Our friendship is over. You have gossiped about me for the last time. You just lost a friend.”

  I turned on my heel, my running shoes squeaking on Rhys’s perfectly polished wooden floor. I paused at the open door. “Don’t try to get in touch with me. I’ll change the schedule at work so we don’t have to see each other.”

  “Coco, wait!”

  But I had already slammed the door.

  I jogged to Rhys’s driveway, my heart beating wildly as I tried to control my breathing. His precious shiny purple moped stood in the path, the ridiculous bumper sticker that read: “Caution! My meds are wearing off,” staring me in the face. “You’re going to need a lot more than meds when I’m through with you.” I kicked the moped, and it toppled to the concrete, the rear view mirror shattering.

  I broke into a trot, and when I glanced over my shoulder, Rhys and Alex stood in the picture window staring at me, their mouths formed into perfect O’s.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Coco

  The week after Dominick and I broke up I threw myself into every health-promoting, anti-aging, relaxation technique and meditation inducing, wrinkle cream high I could find.

  I ate my high antioxidant diet consisting of acai, wild caught salmon, and homemade tonics made from kombucha and ginger. Heck, I even gave myself over to a ridiculous urine-drinking regimen purported to be the ultimate in anti-aging.

  In the morning, I would trudge into my luxurious white tiled bathroom with the ocean view and pee into a round glass. I nearly gagged with the taste of my urine, but I didn’t care.

  I would show everyone.

  I would live forever.

  I didn’t need anyone.

  The problem was when I had those thoughts, I thought of Dominick, Lola, and Cecilia. My knees buckled with the intensity of feeling. “I loved him!” I screamed at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes were wild, my hair a medusa cap around my head. I crouched into a ball from the nausea in my gut and sobbed.

  I changed the schedule at work so that Rhys and I didn’t work together anymore. Every time he called, I slammed the phone down. Twice he’d even showed up at my house, and I’d pretended I wasn’t home.

  After a week had passed, I got up the nerve to call Dominick.

  Lola answered. “Hi, Coco. Yes, my dad’s here. Where’ve you been? I’ve missed you. Wait until you see the puzzle that Justice and I are working on. Will you come watch us surf? Justice is kind of my boyfriend now you know.” She giggled. “There’s my dad. I’ll get him. Hold on.” A rustling of the phone as I heard muffled voices. Finally, Lola’s voice was small when she returned. “He’s on his way out. He said he’d call you later.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  Over the next few days, I called back, and every time it was the same thing. “My dad’s helping grandma in the kitchen. My dad told me to say that he’s working out with his punching bag. My dad’s gone surfing.”

  At the end of the week, I stopped calling.

  I was frantic to reconnect with Dominick, but at the same time, I realized that what we had was built on a lie. How could I ever hope to have a relationship with him? Dominick was a proud man. I had ruined what was my one shot at happiness. But didn’t our time together amount to anything? I’d called off the bet and hadn’t taken the prize. If all I wanted was a notch in my belt why would I still be with him?

  I drank more urine.

  I slathered more anti-aging creams on my face.

  I got reikied and rolfed.

  I covered myself in SPF 200 sunblock, sat in the shade of a Torrey Pine tree at the sea and meditated.

  I took Victor Jose on long evening walks, the cool California breezes kissing my skin and drying the tears from my cheeks.

  Every night before I fell asleep in my cold, lonely bed, a weary sadness engulfed me.

  I would live forever.

  Alone.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Dominick

  I threw myself into my big wave training.

  I practiced my breath control.

  I performed card readings for the wealthy women of La Fortuna.

  I resurrected my vow of celibacy.

  I didn’t need women and the sex that had gotten me into so much trouble.

  I certainly didn’t need Coco.

  I was performing a clearing ceremony with my tarot cards when Lola said, “Papai, why won’t you talk to Coco?”

  My body tensed and I slammed my hand down on the reading table. “Don’t mention her name ever again!”

  Lola flinched as though I’d struck her. “Why not? She sounds so sad.”

  I softened as I gazed into my daughter’s sweet brown eyes. “I’m sorry, honey. We had a fight.”

  “That’s okay. Couples fight all the time.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go surfing. Then you can call her back. Maybe bring her some flowers. Maybe kiss her. Girls like that.”

  I gritted my teeth against what I wanted to say. I would never kiss Coco again.

  Every time I thought of Coco and her lies, and how Rhys had bragged to Alex about the way she’d used me, the back of my neck grew hot, and my nostrils flared.

  I forced myself to relax and focus on what was important—Lola, and the promise I had made to my father.

  But Lola wouldn’t let up on me. “Come on Daddy, help me and Justice with our puzzle.” I stared at the jigsaw puzzle she’d laid out on the table. It was a likeness of a heart made out of millions of pieces of colorful sea glass. “You can frame it and give it to Coco when we’re done.”

  Justice had become a fixture around our house, following Lola around like a lovesick puppy dog, bringing her twenty-five-cent bags of chocolate candies, flowers he’d picked and begging me to surf with him. Justice and Lola had no idea how bad things could get in the real world of love.

  One day Lola handed me a toy diamond ring she’d won from a vending machine. She pressed the ring into my hand. “Here, Daddy. I know you’re sad and that you and Coco fought. But she’ll like this. I read her blog, and she seems so sad.”

  Lola had become obsessed with reading the ridiculous newsletter that Coco wrote for her boutique customers. Now and then I would glance over Lola’s shoulder and spy Coco’s smiling face staring back at me from the screen. The headlines screamed more charlatan lies: “How to Reduce Wrinkles with the Latest Placenta Treatment.” Or, “Five Easy Ways to Increase Your Sex Drive—Naturally.” and “You’ll Never Guess How Orgasm Affects Skin Tone.”

  Every time I noticed Lola devouring the blog my throat tightened, my fists clenched and I wanted to slam the laptop shut and scream, “That woman is nothing but a shyster!” But I kept my mouth shut.

  “Yeah, Dominick,” Justice said, his bright, shiny freckled face full of young enthusiasm. “What’d you guys fight about anyway?”

  I ruffled h
is dark hair. “Nothing. Just stupid grown-up stuff.”

  They both stared at me expectantly. “Well, when can we all cook dinner together again?” Lola asked.

  My mother, who had no immediate plans for going back to Brazil, strode into the living room, rubbing her hands on her apron. “Dominick, listen to these two. Whatever it was you fought about, you’ll work it out.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Don’t you remember all the fights your father and I had?”

  “Yes, Mother, I do.”

  She wagged a finger in my face. “And we always worked it out. You want to know why? We loved each other. But you kids today don’t think about love. You’re so selfish, thinking life is about some crazy idea of happiness.” She waved her hands toward the television set. “That American devil box filled your heads with all kinds of ideas. Brainwashing is what it is.” She muttered under her breath. “Americans think they can be happy if they buy fancy cars and special toothpaste.” She snorted in laughter. “Louco! Crazy is what all you Americans are. Never stopping to think about what’s important.”

  Coco, Justice and I stared at my mother who was on a roll. Her eyes narrowed. “Coco was the best thing that ever happened to you. I saw the look in your eyes.”

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t there when we fought.”

  My mother threw her hands in the air. “So what? Whatever it was, how bad could it be?” Her voice softened. “You need to learn to forgive.”

  I gritted my teeth. I was nothing to Coco but a cruel prank—a bet made with her friend that the whole town was probably laughing at right this second. She had used me for sex and to win the bet. Nothing more. I hope that high-priced resort was worth it. She probably had plans to break up with me the second she tired of the sex. And then what? I would’ve been left with the first broken heart of my life and be the laughing stock of La Fortuna. The nerve of Coco trying to salvage her sorry ass by telling me she loved me. I would never forgive her.

  My smile was shaky. “Enough of this serious talk. What’s for dinner?”

  My mother turned and stalked into the kitchen. “Lola, Justice, come help me with the beef stew. It’s no use talking to your father. Thick-headed is what he is. Always has to do things his own way. That son of mine is going to be the death of me.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Dominick

  When I walked into Father Timothy’s office, I found the young priest sitting at his computer reading the drink contest results. His back was to me, and the words I read over his shoulder glared at me from the screen.

  “Congratulations to our winner! ASP Judge Harold O’Connor killed it with his pomegranate infused energy drink. And listen to this name he thunk up: Bro Bromo. Kinda makes us want to grab a six-pack of the stuff and paddle out to the lineup.”

  Harold O’Connor. I couldn’t breathe as the earth fell out from underneath me. My throat constricted as heat crept up my neck. God damn it! Harold had won, and suddenly all I wanted was to bolt out of the room and slam my fist into something.

  “Oh! Hey, Dominick.” Father Timothy’s chair creaked around until he was facing me. He gave me a sideways smile. “I was supposed to be working on the newsletter but what the heck, thought I’d check out the surf forecast.”

  I stared at the screen not wanting to believe what was written in black and white. “What’s this?”

  “Pretty cool, right? Mystic Seaweed had some kind of ‘name the drink’ contest. Says right here that the winner takes ten percent royalties. Nice chunk of change. Dang. Wish I’d have thought to enter.” He smirked. “Some last rites I could’ve had. I’d have been toasting my entry into the pearly gates with champagne instead of the cheap stuff.” He cocked his head sideways. “What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  I fell into the chair and placed my face in my hands. “I entered that contest.”

  “Great! Competition is good for the soul.”

  “Not when you lose.”

  As I stared at my feet, he let out a huge sigh. “You sound like you could use Father Timothy’s services.” He sat in the chair opposite mine. “Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you, son. How are things going with your girlfriend?”

  I glanced around the room, my gaze lighting on Father Timothy’s surfboard, his framed depiction of Mother Mary, his black rosary beads which lay in a neat curled up heap on his desk—anything to keep from looking at the Father. “We broke up.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He steepled his fingers. “How did it go with your vow of celibacy?”

  “I broke it.” I stood up and walked to the window, pulling the heavy drapery aside. Strong sun beamed overhead, but my soul felt dark. “You were right. I should’ve kept my vow, gotten to know her better, not moved so fast.” I whirled around and faced Father Timothy.

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  I paced back and forth, unable to calm my emotions at the news that Harold had won. “She lied to me! I thought I could trust her. I let her get close to my daughter and my mother. I opened my heart to her, and she broke it.”

  Father Timothy was silent. “An open heart is a good thing. Our Father in heaven encourages love. Dominick, come sit.”

  I slunk back to my chair. “An open heart only means a broken one.” I tried to control my breathing as I thought of that awful fight we’d had at the hotel. And now on top of that, I had to deal with losing the contest?

  “So, what happened?”

  I barked out a laugh. “I was nothing but a notch on her lipstick case.” My fists clenched. “She had some stupid bet with her friend.” Was I really going to tell Father Timothy about it? I pulled my hair out of my eyes and tucked it behind an ear, took a deep breath and told him, “Their bet had to do with sex. Want to know what the wager was?” I pointed to myself. “That she could screw my brains out by the time she’d scheduled five readings with me.”

  Father Timothy’s breath was a sharp intake. “I take it she won?”

  “Hell yes, she won.” I stood up again. “I will never, ever forgive her.”

  The room became silent save for the ticking of the grandfather clock. “Sit down, Dominick.” I sat and gripped the armrests. “I want you to take a few deep breaths and listen to what I’m about to tell you. This woman is a child of God just like you and me.”

  My words came out in a rush. “She made me a laughingstock. She told me she loved me. I fell in love with her and she—”

  “Slow down and listen. I know you’re hurt, but I need you to understand something. A person who would do that must be very insecure.”

  “She’s a liar!”

  “Lying is a venial sin that we’ve all committed. All will be forgiven if she’s truly sorry in her heart. Your girlfriend has a past just like we all do.”

  “Stop calling her my girlfriend.” I made a chopping motion with my hand. “We are through. I don’t give a damn if she’s forgiven. The only reason I’m here is because I’m struggling with this. How am I supposed to live in the same town with that … that flim-flam artist?”

  Father Timothy smiled and sat back in his chair. “You live with it by lighting some ceremonial candles, saying a prayer for her soul, holding your head high and going about your business. You have a daughter, a life. Think of all the great ways God has blessed you.” He touched my knee. “This woman must have suffered something awful to hurt you in the way you’ve said.”

  “There was way more to our breakup than her lies. She didn’t accept my life, my training for Cortes Bank.”

  His eyes grew wide. “You’re surfing the Banks?”

  I looked at my lap. “That’s the plan.” My gaze flicked up and then back down to my hands. “I’d never tell my daughter this because she thinks I’m some kind of superhero, but I’m worried about wiping out and …” I could barely utter the words. “Leaving her an orphan just like my dad did with me.”

  I met Father Timothy’s gaze. He blinked rapidly. “The ocean is to be respected.
I wish I had the courage to get out there on that gnarly wave.” He smiled. It was a small smile. “None of us can anticipate what Mother Nature has in store.” He spread his hands. “All part of God’s divine plan.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Are you determined to go ahead with this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then promise me you’ll pray before you surf out there.” He bounced his knee rapidly. “Remember what the Bible says. ‘Faith without works is dead.’ That means wear your flotation vest.”

  When I looked at the Father, the expression in his eyes was so concerned that I wondered for a moment why the hell I was risking my life by riding those monster waves. My chest felt tight as I thought of the real possibility of drowning at Cortes Bank. Lola was a fantastic surfer, but she had no clue what I was getting myself into. “Surfing the Banks is important. It’s part of a promise I made to my father.”

  “Promises are to be kept.” I squeezed my eyes shut, and Father Timothy touched my knee. “You were one of the best surfers on the tour. I’ll pray for your safety.”

  “I wish my girlfriend had your confidence.” I shuddered using the word girlfriend. “We fought about me going out there. Her attitude was unreasonable, Father.”

  “I’m sure she was just being protective.”

  I turned my head and rubbed my hands briskly on my jeans. “The breakup was horrible.” I cringed remembering the way I’d discovered the bet. I could still picture Rhys’s smug demeanor as he’d laughed about the wager. “I lost my temper. Bad. I just hope she never finds somebody weak like me to use again.”

  “Is that what’s at the heart of this? You feel weak?”

  “Only when it comes to love.” My heart constricted. I’d allowed myself to soften around Coco, only to have her trample all over my soul. “I never thought I could have those feelings. Never thought I could fall in love.” I met Father Timothy’s gaze for a moment. “I already told you my history with sex. I was hoping this would be different. It wasn’t.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I say this is a victory. You’ve allowed love into your life. You experienced the glimpse of a holy union.” I didn’t want to admit what I was thinking. Father Timothy would never feel the love of a woman. He regarded me with clear eyes. “You’ve spent your life on the pro tour. I can’t say I know what that’s like, but I’ve been around surfers all my life, and I understand your dedication. That passion is made up of blood, sweat, tears and an awful lot of missed Christmases.” He smiled gently. “You have a different life now. One that includes family, time spent with your daughter. You’ll meet another love, and next time it will be right. I want you to forgive this woman and remove the thorn in your heart.”