Waves of Passion: Contemporary Romance (Holidays Beach Read Book 3)

by Lori Ann Mitchell

  Had Derek ever been that young? He wondered as the kid fiddled with sliding a key into the lock of the dorm room door. “It’s free but, like I said… humble.”

  The door swung wide to reveal a small efficiency room: Small sitting area with couch and love seat, kitchen with table and two chairs half-in, half-out of the living room, functional bathroom, barracks-sized bedroom. Nothing fancy but, like the kid had said: Free.

  “It’s great,” Derek lied, putting his bags just inside the door and peering around his home for the next few months. He would have much preferred to shell out the money for a hotel room or apartment rental close to campus, but his publisher said it would be “bad form” to reject the university’s offer of free room and board, so here he was: In a dorm room on the fringes of campus.

  “It’s not actually a student dorm,” said Kendrick, smiling beneath thick glasses. “I mean, I live in those and they are way tiny – plus you share them.”

  “Dude,” Derek said, suddenly leery. “I don’t have to share this place, do I?”

  Kendrick laughed, his smile wide and crooked. “No, that’s what I mean. Each of the visiting professors gets their own space, and you all stay here, in the Windsor Building. Though everybody here just calls it ‘Teacher Town’ for short.”

  Derek chuckled. “What?” Kendrick asked, suspiciously, like he might have said something wrong.

  “Nothing, I just… I’m still getting used to the thought of me teaching anyone anything.”

  “Why, dude?” asked Kendrick. He was lean and sturdy, a little on the short side, sporting a rangy afro, wire-rimmed glasses and smooth, mocha skin. “I’m signed up for your class and can’t wait.”

  Derek peered back at him, curiously. Suddenly, something about having someone he knew in class made him feel a little bit better about the whole proposition. “Really? I… how many students are signed up so far?”

  “They like to keep them small for the visiting professors,” Kendrick explained, drifting into the small but functional kitchen. “So we’re at fifteen students now, with a max of twenty.”

  Derek nodded, feeling a little nervous. Ever since hearing about the gig, he’d been more worried about leaving Sage behind than what he was actually leaving her behind to do. Now that he was actually here – dorm room, students, class size, syllabi – he was starting to freak out a little bit.

  “So, the fridge is stocked,” Kendrick explained, reaching in to help himself to a diet root beer. “You get three meals a day in the student cafeteria, but some teachers don’t dig that, so it’s nice to have some snacks handy. Soap and shampoo in the shower, stuff like that, but… any alcoholic beverages or special items like, you know… contraceptives and such, you’re on the hook for yourself.”

  Derek wagged a playful finger, reaching past him for a can of orange soda from the surprisingly well stocked fridge. “I’m here to teach, bro, not… leech.”

  Kendrick frowned. “Weak rhyme, bro,” he teased. “Hope your teaching is more game than your… preaching?”

  Derek nudged his shoulder playfully. “Now whose rhyme is weak?”

  They sat at the small kitchen table, next to a small window, overlooking a small courtyard. It was mid-afternoon, the Southern California sky a golden-bluish hue as they sipped their soda after the brief trip back into town from the local regional airport.

  Kendrick put down his soda, playing with the tab on the top. “Hey man, I can respect the ‘no extracurricular funny business’ while you’re here. You got a girl back home?”

  Derek was going to say that, actually, California was his home, but then he remembered his brand new cottage by the sea. “You don’t even have to answer that, bro,” said Kendrick. “I can see it from the smile on your face.”

  “Yeah?” Derek asked, blushing. It was the first time he’d ever been able to answer “yes” to that question, and that meant a lot to him.

  “Yeah,” Kendrick snorted. “You look like you just remembered you won the lotto or something!” They laughed and Kendrick said, “It’s cool, though. I got a girl back home, too.”

  “Where’s that?” asked Derek.

  “Chisholm, Tennessee.”

  “Damn, kid, you’re a long way from home.”

  Kendrick shrugged, still fiddling with the little metal tab on his soda can. “Why do you think I want to be a travel writer?”

  “Yeah,” Derek joked, waving his hand around the dorm room. “Look how exciting it is!”

  They laughed as they finished their sodas. “Well, about your girl,” Kendrick warned, “I’m just letting you know, there are some fine foxes staying at Teacher Town, so… I hope your love is true.”

  Derek nodded confidently, “It is.” Then, curiosity getting the better of him, he couldn’t help but ask, “Which fine foxes, in particular?”

  Kendrick laughed, covering his mouth. “Uh huh, uh huh, that’s what I thought. Well, for one, we’ve got a visiting girls volleyball team teaching P.E. this semester, but they’re staying in the athletic dorms.”

  “That’s okay,” Derek chuckled. “I’ve never been one for tomboys. I’m more of a surf bunny man myself.”

  “Your girl a surfer?” Kendrick asked, looking impressed.

  “The best,” he bragged.

  “All right, good, well… you remember that when you meet Angel Kinkaid.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know her either,” he said, lowering his voice as if she might hear them through the walls. “But I’ll never forget her now. Apparently, she’s some kind of fashion designer from LA. Handbags, purses, accessories, that kind of stuff. Teaching a class on the basics of design?”

  “Boring,” Derek said, pretending to yawn.

  “Oh, for sure, but… wait till you see her,” Kendrick warned with a knowing expression. “The last thing you’ll be is bored.”

  “She’s here already?”

  Kendrick stood, tossing his empty soda can in the trash and wearing a knowing grin. “Here?” he chuckled, nodding toward the dorm room door. “Bro, she’s just across the hall!”

  Chapter 3

  Sage

  “I should have asked you to teach me how to surf,” Sage chuckled as she paddled out to catch up with Colby. Her new manager looked stunning in a teeny red bikini, all rich, full curves and caramel, sun-kissed skin, glistening in the mid-afternoon sun.

  Sage could almost – almost – understand how Derek let himself fall into her arms, and her bed, over that long, hot summer. Sure, it had almost destroyed their relationship, but seeing how Colby looked in the flesh, and knowing how lusty Derek could be, it was only natural he’d succumb to that temptation.

  “Then you would have never met Derek,” Colby teased, squeezing the water out of her flawless ponytail.

  “I met him at the bookstore,” Sage reminded her. “He wooed me on the waves.”

  They looked at each other, floating on the gentle waves, before breaking out in laughter. It was the kind of girlish, feminine laughter Sage had found so rarely in her life, too busy – or rigid – to allow herself that type of friendship. That she’d found it with Derek’s former lover was a testament to her newfound willingness to forgive and embrace life.

  “That sounds like the title of his new book,” Colby chuckled.

  “Yeah,” Sage clucked, “if he wrote romance novels, that is.”

  “Great idea!” Colby teased. “That could be his next gig. Or yours?” she suggested.

  Sage chuckled, shaking her head shyly and splashing her friend playfully. “I’m serious,” Colby said. “You’ve never thought of writing a book yourself?”

  Sage blushed and turned away. “Well, I mean… who doesn’t, working in a bookstore all day? Plus, I’ve read some really shitty books. I mean, I could do better than some of them…”

  “Exactly,” Colby purred, splashing water over her board as they sat side by side. “Why let Derek have all the fun?”

  Sage chuckled, embarrassed at he
r sudden confession. After all, it had been years since she first thought of writing a book herself, and months since she’d dabbled with the first few chapters of yet another mushy romance novel she never quite finished and filed away for future reference.

  Why had she just... blurted… it out to Colby like that?

  “Speaking of books,” Sage said, eager to change the subject. “Should we trust April and Randy to run the store while we’re off playing hooky like this?”

  Colby frowned. “I know, I feel a little guilty, too, but… it’s only for a couple of hours and if April’s going to be your new assistant manager one day, she’s got to learn sometime. It’s not like we’re asking them to close the store or anything.”

  “Or even open it,” Sage agreed, enjoying the warm sun on her shoulders and the peace of mind that came with hiring more employees to give her more free time.

  Ever since Derek left for Southern California Community College, she’d been surfing as much as possible, if only to spend more time in the place where they had the best times when he was in town. For a change of pace, feeling lonely and desperate, she’d asked Colby along.

  To her delight, she’d accepted.

  “And it is the slowest time of the day,” Sage said, before quickly adding, “traditionally speaking, I mean. I guess it could get busy, but there are two of them, right?” She hated the pathetic, motherly tone in her voice.

  “They’ll be fine,” Colby said, shaking her head. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged, but her voice grew more serious with every syllable. “Nothing, Sage, it’s just… I’ve never seen you mooning about like this before.”

  “Mooning about?” she snorted at the colorful choice of words. “Remind me to use that in my romance novel, if I ever write one!”

  “You know what I mean.” Colby said, splashing her boss playfully. “Every so often I’ll look over and catch you peering out the front display window, like some war bride waiting for her man to return from the front lines.”

  Sage’s eyes grew wide in horror. “Oh my God, really?”

  Colby nodded. “And not just that. Yesterday you made the Beach Blend coffee too strong, and the day before… it was too weak. You’re burning the poppy scones and putting nonfiction in fiction and if I get one more customer complain, well… you need to snap out of it, girl!”

  Sage chuckled. “I guess your promotion to manager was good timing then, huh?”

  “Sure,” Colby said, still frowning. “That’s all well and good, but… seeing you like this is no fun, Sage.”

  Sage sighed, finding no words to express how much she missed Derek; how surprised she was at how much she missed Derek.

  “Do you miss him that much?”

  Sage peered back at Colby, waves gently lapping at her thighs. “I feel funny, talking like this, talking about this, with… you.”

  “Seriously?” Colby asked, if they were picking out china patterns. “I’ve dated, like, three guys since Derek and slept with three more since then. He’s yesterday’s news… no offense.”

  Sage wagged a motherly finger. “I thought we were going to tone it down on the trampiness front,” she cautioned.

  “Tried that,” Colby chuckled, “didn’t care for it. Besides, I’m safe, I’m not hurting anyone and it makes me happy.”

  Sage raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, fine, I just… I could never be a heartbreaker that’s all.”

  Colby snorted. “These guys know what I’m about, and they’re about it, too. Honestly, Sage? Derek was the only time I ever screwed up and broke somebody’s heart. And even then, it was yours… that’s what hurt the most.”

  Sage chuckled, shaking her head. “Then you couldn’t understand what it’s like for me now, Colby. I can’t even understand what it’s like to miss someone this much, and I’m the one going through it.”

  Colby chuckled good-naturedly. “Not to downplay your drama, Sage, but… Derek only left a few days ago. And it’s not exactly like he’s halfway around the world.”

  “Might as well be,” Sage grumbled. “California sure feels halfway around the world right now, even if it is only halfway across the country.”

  “Good lord,” Colby grumbled good-naturedly. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, Sage.”

  Sage brightened, splashing her friend before bending to her board. “Maybe it’ll go away,” she gushed, paddling forward to dive into the latest wave curling just beneath her board. But as she rode the wave to shore, and strode upon the sand, and showered and dressed, she had a vague feeling it wouldn’t go away.

  What’s more, she’s worried that it would only get worse…

  Chapter 4

  Derek

  “I don’t agree,” Derek said, leaning back against his desk at the front of the classroom. “I think writing can be learned, but not just in a classroom, like we’re doing now.”

  “Where then?” asked a middle-aged woman, eyes curious behind thick glasses. Her hand was poised above a laptop, ready to tap in his answer. It was the modern version of “taking notes,” and nearly every desk had some kind of tablet, laptop or combination, fingers typing noisily away while Derek talked.

  “By writing,” he said, watching most of the two dozen heads scattered around the classroom nod in agreement. “Look, I’m a visiting professor, you guys know that, right? I… never took a writing class in my life until after my first three books were published, and that was a class on how to format eBooks!”

  The class chuckled, a mix of young, old and in between, eagerly typing, scribbling or tapping up his pearls of wisdom, such as they were. “My point is, writing is writing, and the more you have to write about, the easier it is. For me, when I go someplace, even when I stay someplace, like in my last book, Locals Only, I’m not making anything up. I’m recording, I’m observing, I’m listening and seeing and then, by the time I get to my keyboard, I have too much to write about, not too little…”

  “What about fiction though?” asked Kendrick from the back of the room, smirking playfully beneath his thick glasses, as if he had an inside track because he’d shown Derek around earlier that month. “I mean, novelists make everything up.”

  “True,” Derek agreed, “but even then, they’re making sure they have enough made up stuff to write about so that they’re not just padding stuff. The only thing my publisher ever really gets on me about is when she knows I’m padding stuff. ‘Get real,’ she’ll say, ‘or get lost’!”

  A bell rang then, soft and low in the background, blending with the casual sound of student’s laughter. Derek smirked to hear most of his students groan as they stood, en masse, to file past with shy, contented smiles, clinging to their sleek silver tablets or laptop bags slung over their shoulders.

  It was his third class of the semester, only two weeks in, and he’d been pleasantly surprised by how much fun he was having. For him, at least, teaching was more about just standing there, talking about what was most important to him: Writing about his travels.

  The syllabus he’d provided to the Traveling Teachers Department was more like an outline than something etched in stone. Before every class, he peered at whatever topic was on the schedule, from using descriptive words to licensing photographs to formatting a Table of Contents. Then he promptly closed it and talked about whatever he wanted to say about that topic. From there, the class usually interrupted with a question or two or three or fourteen and, after that, it was off to the races. Before he knew it, the class was over, students were groaning and the rest of the day was free.

  “You sure you’ve never taught before?” Kendrick teased as he paused briefly by the desk in Derek’s classroom.

  “You sure you’ve never written a travel story before?” Derek teased, handing him back his latest assignment with a big, red “A-minus” scrawled at the top.

  He frowned, self-consciously shoving his glasses higher up his nose. “Hey, what’s the minus
for?”

  “You forgot the date,” Derek teased, slapping him on the shoulder as the kid bounced from class, struggling under a backpack twice his size.

  Derek smiled, peering out the classroom windows at a bustling campus, nestled in a cozy valley, midday sun streaming through a dozen windows, the room smelling of chalk and aftershave and bubble gum and diet soda.

  He found himself walking up and down the rows, looking for stray wads of paper or empty soda cans, tidying up for the next class. But in so doing, he felt… at home. The floorboards felt familiar beneath his loafers, the trees outside a welcome sight and even the carefully ordered rows of desks felt proper and right. He pictured himself doing this every semester, faces peering back at him, eyes expectant, using his knowledge to go write their own stories, tell their own tales and share their own travel adventures—

  “Hello?” a voice interrupted his train of thought, sultry and soft, making Derek smile as he turned around. “Oh, I’m sorry,” said a raven-haired beauty standing in the doorway, statuesque and stately with an olive, almost glowing complexion and long, willowy limbs. “I… I teach a class here next period.”

  Derek peered down at the watch on his wrist. “Oh shit!” he said, reaching for his battered messenger bag. “I totally zoned out.”

  She laughed, a hoarse and sultry sound, brushing a stray lock of long, black hair behind one ear. “No, no, you’re fine,” she insisted, setting a maroon leather valise down on the desk next to his rumpled backpack. “I’m early, I just… I’ve heard so many good things about your class, I wanted to meet you in person and see if you had any tips for a new teacher like me.”

  “You have?” Derek blurted.

  She cocked her head. “Why sure, it’s very popular with the students.”

  They stood there, awkwardly, on either side of the rustic wooden teacher’s desk.

  “I’m Derek,” he said, extending a hand. “Derek Chambers.”