Waves of Desire: Pleasure Point Series Book Three

by Jennifer Evans

  As we walked, Jax told me about the Big Wave World Tour. I’d been following everything he’d been doing, but I didn’t want to sound like a stalker, so I let him talk. “I’m one of twelve regulars on the tour.”

  “Out of all the surfers in the world they only pick twelve? That’s no small feat,” I said.

  He shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  I shook my head. “Yes it is. Most people who don’t know much about surfing always think of Laird Hamilton and those big waves. I’ll bet they think, ‘Yeah, it’s extreme, but that’s just what surfers do.’”

  He smiled. “It’s what this surfer does. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I knew a little bit about big wave surfing from all the times I’d stalked Jax in cyberspace. Big wave surfing is a sport that requires a rare combination of top physical conditioning, laser beam mental focus, planning, dedication, and yes, maybe a bit of crazy. I had the utmost respect for what Jax did.

  “I worry about you sometimes,” I said. “Those waves are dangerous.”

  He glanced at me then looked at the ocean again. “I’m okay. I train and prepare.” His eyes were warm when he looked at me. “So, why don’t you tell me what you have in mind with Eugene?”

  I’d been preparing my speech for days and crossed my fingers that he would be receptive.

  Jax touched my arm and ushered me to a bench. “Sit. Life’s always better when you’re sitting down overlooking the ocean.”

  We sat side by side on the bench. “Well, what I was thinking is this: I’ll talk to Eugene and tell him that an old friend is visiting from Point Loma—”

  “Encinitas. I live in Encinitas now.”

  “Encinitas,” I said. “I’ll tell him that you were the son of my friend Lydia, and I was hoping that maybe you’d stay with us. I’ll make up the sofa for you, and you’ll get to know Eugene.” I studied Jax for a reaction. His mouth formed a firm line.

  “And then what?” he said. “When are you going to break the news about who his dad is?” He leaned forward, put both elbows on his knees and said, “How do I even know that I’m his dad?”

  “When you meet him, you’ll know.” I left it at that. “And you can do the math yourself. Eugene’s thirteen. Think I would’ve gotten laid the second I got here?”

  “Your sex drive’s pretty high, if memory serves.”

  “Don’t make this harder than it is,” I said. “Are you in, or are you out?”

  And at that phrase he laughed. “Jesus, I haven’t heard the famous Rosalyn Richards ‘are you in or are you out’ in years.”

  “You have to let me break it to him in my own way,” I said. “He’s really sensitive.”

  “Kid’s probably tougher than you think. So, that’s it? You want me to stay with you guys and then what?”

  “And then we’ll figure it out.”

  “Figure what out?” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Are we just going to do another ‘Rosalyn flies by the seat of her pants’ routine?”

  “Please, Jax. Help me with this, okay?”

  He looked at me for what seemed like hours, both of us waiting for the other to say something, and he finally said, “Okay, I’ll meet Eugene and stay with you two for a few days. That’s all I can promise right now.”

  When he left me, he said he’d call that night. “Can’t believe you still have Leo,” he said before he put his truck in gear and drove away.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I prayed that he and Eugene would get along. After he left, I went into my bedroom and picked up one of my favorite crystals to perform a healing meditation for the union of father and son. Then, after a few deep breaths, I set the crystal aside because I wasn’t sure I believed in the healing power of crystals anymore.

  Jax

  After I left Rosalyn’s house, I drove to Shark’s Cove in Santa Cruz, waxed up my board, and paddled out into solid six-foot hollow lefts. Then I went back to the Oceano Hotel. Surfing usually calmed me, but even those gorgeous waves couldn’t keep my emotions at bay.

  I was worried about Rosalyn. When I was with her, I had tried to keep a calm demeanor, and hell, I was still mad about the fact that she’d lied all these years, but when she told me all about her cancer and how serious it was and then told me about this Trinity program … well, the whole thing seemed like a long shot.

  I had agreed to stay at her house, but for how long? And what the hell did I know about raising kids? But if it was true that I was Eugene’s dad, then I had to help however I could.

  Rosalyn didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t think she’d be too thrilled to find out how I made my living. I smiled wryly, thinking about how it came to be that I was so good at pleasing women.

  Rosalyn.

  I felt myself falling under Rosalyn’s spell, and I tried to stop it. When we’d walked through the park at Pleasure Point, I felt her warmth and inhaled that wonderful sandalwood scent that made me delirious with desire. Being with her at the beach that day reminded me of all those times we’d strolled along Sunset Cliffs together, just being. Just walking and enjoying each other’s company. At the time, it seemed both of us were always thinking about what was only four blocks away—Rosalyn’s apartment with the comfy bed and the sex toys and the warm coconut oil that she liked to slather all over me, her sensuous mouth kissing as she stroked and teased. I had to stop thinking those thoughts because things were different now.

  Rosalyn was dying.

  I couldn’t believe that after all these years—wasted years when we could have been together—I had finally found her just to lose her again.

  All those years we’d been separated I tried to convince myself that I was okay. I lived the dream of surfing big waves all over the world, and I had a bevy of beauties who were more than happy to be my hot sex partners. I took care of those women. I romanced them with flowers, wine, and long, slow, passionate sex deep into the night. One of my specialties was bringing these gorgeous women to the romantic coves in the Southern California beaches. There, after a bonfire for two under a star-studded sky, including plenty of heated kissing and caressing, I would put my arm around them and gently usher them to the rocky areas where the tide rushed in and out. I had my favorite spot, one with flat rocks where I knew we’d be safe, and I would slowly undress them, gaze into their eyes, and make love to them pinned up against the cliffs as the waves pounded on the rocks.

  But it was never the same as it was with Rosalyn because I never allowed myself to fall in love. I used my extensive travel with surfing as an excuse, and most of the women seemed to relent to the fact that a pro-surfer just didn’t have time for a relationship. We didn’t, right? Well, maybe we did for the right woman.

  Rosalyn.

  If all went according to plan, I’d be checking out of the Oceano Hotel the following day. Meanwhile, I took advantage of the minibar and cracked open a cold Heineken, settled in on the bed, fired up my laptop, and googled Trinity. I took a sip of beer and read. The Trinity Institute was a nonprofit organization in San Diego, but the clinic was located in Tijuana. I spent the next hour reading testimonials, blogs, and even a write-up from the American Cancer Society which said mostly good things about the treatment but didn’t take a stand one way or another.

  I finally snapped my laptop shut, finished off my beer, and sank back into the pillows of my bed. I felt a bit selfish for the harsh way I’d treated Rosalyn. The poor woman was fighting for her life. Yes, I had suffered after Rosalyn left and after Tyler was killed, and I was still mad at Rosalyn for lying to me, but I felt chagrined. My body was healthy, and when it came right down to it, what did I really have going on in my life that was so terrible? Thinking about Butch, whose life could’ve easily been cut short, the fact that any one of us—especially big wave surfers—could suffer the same fate, and then thinking about Rosalyn having to go through all she’d been through without anyone to help made me more than sad.

  The phone rang, waking me out of my reverie. It was Rosa
lyn.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey, yourself. So, I talked to Eugene tonight.”

  “And?”

  “You have to understand, he’s not used to having people stay with us.”

  “Don’t you guys have friends or family?” During our time together before, Rosalyn had told me she wasn’t close to her hippy parents.

  “Of course. I’ve got friends at work, and Eugene has friends from school. But as far as family—”

  I thought about how Rosalyn, Eugene, and I, like it or not, were a family. “We’ve kind of been on our own as adults, haven’t we?”

  “Guess we’ve had to make our own, families, right?” she said.

  “Right.”

  “So, Eugene was kind of surprised when I told him we’d be having a house guest.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Just that we hadn’t seen each other in a lot of years, that we were close when I lived in Point Loma because I was such good friends with your mom, and that you were a pro-surfer who was visiting the area. He’s pretty excited about the surfer part because he’s been bugging me to let him surf for years,” she said. “He’s kind of mad at me because I won’t let him.”

  “Why won’t you let him?”

  “It’s too dangerous! Anyway, he knows you’ll be here starting tomorrow.”

  “And then, when are you going to tell him the rest of your news?”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “I’ll figure it out, okay?” She sounded almost on the verge of tears. “You need to let me ease him in to this. I already told you. He’s a sensitive boy.”

  It sounded to me like he was a sheltered boy.

  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she said.

  “Right. I’ll be there with my backpack and my surfboard.”

  “And Jax,” she said, her voice softening. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  After we hung up, I collapsed back on the bed with a heavy sigh, opened my tide chart app, and checked the waves for the following day. First thing I needed to do before any of this started was surf.

  I wanted to keep an open mind, but I had no idea whether this whole thing would work out. Eugene. I turned the name over and over in my mind with a chuckle. It was a dorky name, but Rosalyn must have loved it. Maybe she picked it out of one of those baby-name books. Rosalyn, Eugene, and me. Disbelief sliced through me hearing those names played out in my head. Mother, father, son.

  Needing to maintain a connection with my real life, whatever that was, I called all the girls on my list and told them I’d be gone for longer than expected. I didn’t know how long, but I promised to contact them in the next couple of days. In my heart, I knew I’d have to quit the business and break up with Holly.

  Next, I called Gary asking him to feed Blue-ee for a few more days.

  Then, I called Butch.

  “So, how’d it go?”

  “Okay, I guess. Butch, she’s in deep. But she’s got this Trinity program in Tijuana she wants to try.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of that. They have a pretty high success rate. When you meeting the kid?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You nervous?”

  “Hell yes, I’m nervous.”

  “Well, just make sure you get a surf in tomorrow morning. Checked the conditions, and it looks good.”

  “You’re reading my mind.”

  We talked for a few more minutes, and Butch finally hung up with a “Good luck.”

  It was getting late, but I called Holly.

  Holly

  I woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of my phone. It was Jax. I grabbed the phone so fast that I nearly knocked the lamp off the nightstand.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was low, husky, and freaking sexy. I popped into a sitting position. “What’re you doing?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Just missing you like crazy.

  Jax was silent a moment. “Did I wake you?”

  I dragged a hand through my hair. “No. I mean, yes, I was trying to sleep.”

  “Sorry. Should I call tomorrow?”

  “No!” Calm down, Holly. “Let me turn on the light. Are you okay?”

  There was a long silence, and then he said, “I’m okay. But you know the family friend I told you about? She’s not doing so well.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Are you ready for this? I just found out that she’s got breast cancer, and her doctor gave her a six month diagnosis.”

  I swung my legs out of bed, staring at my wall. “That’s terrible!”

  “I know, babe. Came as kind of a shock.”

  Standing up, I said, “What can I do to help?”

  “I wish there was something you could do. Wish there was something I could do,” he said. “But it’s not looking good. And she’s got a son—”

  My hand flew up to my forehead. “Jax, I’m so sorry.”

  His voice was hesitant. “So, what I’m going to do is … I’m staying at her place in Santa Cruz for the next couple of days.”

  Why? “Why does she need you to stay there?”

  He exhaled into the phone. “It’s just that she doesn’t have anybody, and we knew each other well, and she was friends with my mom and—”

  “You mean she doesn’t have anyone else who can help out? What are you going to be doing?” I asked.

  “Just … helping her with stuff like taking her to some doctor appointments and kind of catching up and … Holly, she’s going through a tough time.”

  I sat down on the bed and sank against the pillows. “I understand,” I said. But I didn’t. “Jax, you never mentioned anything about this person. Are you guys close?”

  “First time I’ve seen her in over a decade. But she’s been a close family friend.” He cleared his throat. “I need to keep her company, she doesn’t have much of a support system.”

  I didn’t want to sound like a jealous girlfriend so instead of saying what I wanted to say, when will you be back in my bed, I twisted a strand of hair, pulled and said, “You take care of your friend. She’s lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  We talked for a few more minutes about ordinary stuff—my work, how the waves were in Santa Cruz—and finally hung up.

  Jax had been gone for only a few days, and already my bed felt unbearably lonely and cold without him. Something in his voice was different. I supposed it was the shock of Butch and then this sick friend.

  I punched in Stan’s number.

  “Hey bud, what’s up?” he said.

  Dinah jumped on the bed and licked my face. “Jax is staying in Santa Cruz a few more days.”

  “So?”

  “I miss him.”

  “Oh, look who’s all of a sudden sentimental. Told you it could be this way. Why’s he staying?”

  Matrix lumbered into the room, his stump of a tail wagging, and laid his head on the bed. I pet his wiry fur, and his brown eyes gazed at me with adoration. “He’s got an old friend who’s sick. She lives in Santa Cruz.”

  “Who is he? Little Red Riding Hood?”

  “Exactly. Why’s he have to watch over her?”

  “Because he’s a good man. Much as I didn’t think this thing would work out, I know he makes you happy. You’ve been together for what, four months now? I say you support him. What’s wrong with his friend?”

  Dinah jumped on the bed, her puppy breath in my face. “Breast cancer. I guess they gave her six months.”

  Stan sighed. “Damn. Tough break. When’s he coming home?”

  I pet Dinah and she rolled over on to her back. “A few days.”

  “So why do you sound so down?”

  Dinah wiggled and I rubbed her belly. “I just miss him is all.”

  “Well, my friend, I would love to sit here and talk late into the night about how much you miss your hot surfer boyfriend, but I’ve got an early call. Talk to you tomorrow?”r />
  “Fine.”

  We hung up, and as I lay in bed that night with my puppies cuddling up to me, I thought, Is this really all I have? Two dogs, a job, and one best friend?

  Jax

  I wasn’t lying to Holly, but I wasn’t totally honest either. I wasn’t ready to hurt her, not yet.

  The following morning, I surfed, ate a late breakfast, packed my backpack, loaded up the truck, and made the drive to Santa Cruz.

  I was nervous about meeting Eugene. But I knew how to calm myself because I’d had so much experience with training my body to relax prior to big wave events. The trick was to breathe slowly, deeply, and stay centered.

  Rosalyn wanted me to arrive at her place at one because Eugene would be home from school around two thirty. When I pulled up in front of the house, she sat on the front stoop with Leo in her lap. She smiled that gorgeous smile of hers and gave a little wave.

  We walked into the house together, and she said, “You can put your stuff in my room. We’ve got two bathrooms, so you can share with me or Eugene …” She stood in the hallway, biting a nail, looking so pathetic that I yearned to hold and hug her.

  After I set my backpack in her bedroom, a room filled with her many crystals and one of those Lawrence-of-Arabia-style mosquito nets covering her bed, she poured glasses of iced tea, and we sat on the front stoop.

  “Any new developments?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is, what else have you told Eugene?”

  “Just what I told you last night. He knows you’ll be here when he gets home from school. Then we’ll all have dinner together and just talk and stuff.”

  “How much have you told him about me, about my family?”

  “I told him about what great friends we all were way back when, and I told him about …” She put her face in her hands. “He knows your parents were in a car crash and died.” She peered at me. “But I haven’t told him anything about Tyler.”