by Marika Ray
"I gotta do a few things at headquarters. I'll meet you back at The Shack." And then he spun around and took off, leaving me to finish securing the board to my car.
After watching his fine ass retreat (my motto was Never Waste a Good Opportunity), I got to my task. Based on his comment, I guessed we were going to chat again. Maybe this time I could get him to sell that damn shop already.
I was starving after my near-death experience in the Pacific, so I stopped by a little burger joint further north on PCH. I ate my burger in my car, gazing out at the sparkling water, letting the gentle breeze dry my long hair. I briefly wondered why I bitched so much about doing this deal for my father. This was heaven.
When the dried salt on my skin got to be too itchy, I packed up the trash from lunch, tossed it, and headed back out to The Shack to return the surf board. I pulled into that tiny parking lot again and left the board on top of the car while I went inside. I was hoping the guy from before, Jonny I believe from what Jax said, would do me a solid and get the board off for me. The adrenaline high from surfing was leaving me wiped. I'd have to admit to Jax I had noodle arms.
Nah, just kidding, I would admit nothing.
I was standing in the shop, waiting for Jonny to help another customer, when Jax walked in. He gestured me over to him and held open the door.
"Come on, let's get that board."
I followed him out and tried to rub some of the salt off my arms and legs while I stood there watching his muscles flex as he grabbed my board. He walked it over to the side of the shop where we'd had our argument earlier today. A spray of water burst out of a shower head nozzle up high that I hadn't seen before. Jax cleaned off the huge board like he'd done it a thousand times before. When it was thoroughly rinsed, he leaned it up against the building and ducked under the water himself.
My mouth went dry and all the business conversation openers I'd planned left my brain as I took in the sight in front of me. He tipped his head back and used his hands to run through his thick, wavy hair before they wiped off his face too, the sound of his stubble scraping reminding my fingers they never got a feel.
Those hands dipped lower to the hem of his t-shirt and all my prayers, had I known to pray for such deliciousness, were answered. Inch by inch, more tanned skin was revealed as he pulled the shirt up over his head and tossed it to the ground. I'd already figured out he was strong, but I didn't really understand the extent of it until I saw the six pack, the bulging pecs, the bumps running along his hip bones, the way each muscle flowed into the next, like a perfectly tuned machine.
But this was no machine in front of me. This was all man, flesh and bone, covered by tan skin and a scattering of hair that begged for touching and tasting.
And I would volunteer as tribute.
A throat clearing brought my attention back to the world happening around me while I lusted after a man who didn't seem to like me that much. He was looking at me like he expected an answer.
"Wha--"
Oh, that was great. I was supposed to be showing him that I was a tough business person and he could take my offer seriously, and now I was drooling over him like a love-starved prepubescent. At least I wasn't falling over any longer. There was that.
He repeated himself, speaking a little slower, you know, to match my intellect. "Did you want to rinse off?"
Stepping forward into the spray, I turned my back to him and gave myself a quick moment to collect my words and remember why I was there and exactly what hung in the balance.
I finger brushed my hair, letting the fresh water rinse away the stiffness that came with the dried salt water. Next came the rash guard, also rented. I pulled it off, struggling to get out of the long sleeved shirt that clung to my skin. Audience forgotten, I almost laughed out loud that I'd showered in five star resorts around the world and yet nothing felt as luxurious as this shower on the side of a shack after getting my body tossed around by a force far more powerful than I'd given it credit.
I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do with my life when this deal for my father was complete, but I was getting a feeling that any future of mine would have to include some warm weather and ocean water. I'd never felt so alive, and I was sure it had nothing to do with the sexy-as-sin man next to me.
6
Jax
It was like watching some sort of exotic porno that starts with the woman stepping out of a pool, hair wet and dripping. Clothes clinging to wet skin. Nipples jutting out, just calling your name.
Once the rash guard came off, there wasn't much left of her outfit. I didn't have to imagine what she wore under that hideous business suit any longer. I was getting quite the eyeful. And damn, was it nice. She wasn't built like a porn star, in fact, I'd say her curves were on the small side, but she was tall and athletic looking with legs that went on for days. When she wasn't tripping over her own feet, she walked with a confidence I admired. She wasn't a timid, insecure woman, which was more than okay by me.
While her eyes were closed and her head tossed back in the spray of water, a secret smile curving her lips, I reached for a towel and held it in front of me. It probably wouldn't do much to hide the desire trying to fight its way out of my board shorts, but it was better than nothing. I refused to look away, instead enjoying the show, telling myself it had been so long since I'd been with a girl, it was understandable that I'd want to watch till the bitter end.
And I had no doubt the ending would be bitter.
This girl had proven to be annoying as hell. She'd cut me off, made me late to work, insulted my business, and then ignored my offer of professional assistance in the water like I was the asshole for offering to help.
It was with that reminder that I reached around her and yanked on the spigot, abruptly shutting the water off and ending this little performance, at least for now. I'd be replaying that baby for many nights to come. If my arm happened to glide briefly along her slim waist in the process, that was purely a bonus.
"Hey!" She turned her face to me, eyes blazing with indignation. "I was still using that."
"Don't you know California is in a drought?" I tossed a towel at her and turned around to head into The Shack, not bothering to see if she was following me. Somehow I knew she would.
I'd just reached the counter inside when I heard the bell over the door ring out and her bare feet slapping on the old linoleum floor tiles. Rolling my eyes, I reached behind the counter for a clean Surf Shack logo'd t-shirt, slipping it on and running my hands through my hair to get it out of my face.
"What's the last name, sweetheart?" I asked as I flipped through the day's rental slips.
"Why do you ask?"
I looked up to find her looking down her pert, little nose at me again. Like I was the help and my question overstepped my boundaries. In my own store. Goddamn, she was annoying.
"So I can cyberstalk you and make your life as miserable as you've made mine today," I deadpanned. Her mouth opened and closed, those brown eyes flashing at me again. "Relax. So I can find your rental slip."
Her face morphed into a frown, but she gave me the information anyway. "Vanderman."
I flipped through the receipts and found hers, pulling it out and confirming Jonny had already run her credit card. "Sage?" The name seemed to fit her. As flighty and hippie as the girl I remembered from the VW that first day.
She nodded her head, then continued to look around the shop, eyes taking in all the details.
"Planning on stealing something?"
Her head swung back to me, her nose making an adorable wrinkle. "What? No! Just trying to figure out why you care for this place so much."
I folded my arms across my chest. "Ah, so we're back to that are we?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking me. Except her stance pushed her small breasts up, like an offering of peace. A false offer, I'm sure. "You said this morning that you're the owner, so you must be Jax Stern?"
"Oh, so who's cyber-stalking who now?" I teased her.
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She gave me a 'cut-the-shit' look, which was as harmless as her power stance. More cute than intimidating.
We faced each other in a stalemate, neither one willing to back down. This lasted for a full minute which doesn't seem that long unless you were faced with a beautiful, pissed off female in a teeny tiny, wet bikini with nipples pointing right at you. Nipples I wanted to run my thumb across, just to see what they'd do.
Finally, she dropped her arms with a sigh and pointed behind me at the wall. "Who's in those pictures?"
I tilted my head. Guess she decided to go for a new line of attack. "My father. And various citizens of Huntington Beach. A few surfers." Which was all true. Maybe a bit understated, but true nonetheless.
She walked right behind the counter to get a better look, completely ignoring that there wasn't room for two in the tight space. I backed up into the corner of the counter and the wall to avoid touching her, not appreciating being put in that position. I just knew I couldn't touch her. I'd want to keep touching. And then tasting. Which would lead to massive regrets. I was hard up, but not that hard up.
While I was trying to figure out how not to touch her, other than climbing up onto the counter, which would definitely be weird, she was studying the pictures like her life depended on it. If anyone should be getting out from behind the counter, it should be her, the customer. I decided to be the one in control here and man-up. I stood up tall and shuffled forward, crowding her back out, narrowing my eyes at her when she gave me a dirty look over her shoulder.
When she was safely back on the other side of the counter after our awkward shuffling slash pushing match, I was finally able to take a deep breath.
A small smile that should have been adorable, filled my stomach with dread instead. That smile looked like the smile a shark gave you right before he took a bite out of your leg and left you for dead.
"Just a few citizens and surfers, huh?"
"Yep." I let the 'p' pop as it left my mouth, loving how that smile turned into an angry frown. I'd better be careful. Pissing her off was starting to be way too much fun.
She threw her hands out, exasperated with me, clearly. "That's a picture of your father with President Ford! And a picture with Kelly Slater! Even I know who he is."
I smiled, the first genuine smile I'd had around her. I loved looking at those photos of what my dad built here. "That's right," I drawled, guessing correctly that my blasé attitude would rile her up even more.
Those hands started flailing higher in the air, encompassing the entirety of the store. "So, like, what is this place? Some sort of surfing legend, small town landmark?"
"I guess you could say that." I nodded. "What's the tattoo on your hip?" I pointed to her right hip, where just the top edge of a tattoo peeked out from the top band of her swimsuit bottoms.
"What?" Her arms dropped and she looked down at her own hip, like she couldn't remember what was there. Her brain caught up to my line of questioning and she snapped her head back up, skewering me with those eyes. They were a unique kind of brown, almost gold when she was fired up, like right now. "None of your business!"
I pounded the countertop and doubled over laughing. She was too much. One minute she's in a business suit with a stick up her ass, the next she's mooning me and trying to drag a huge surfboard onto her vintage VW, and then she flips the switch into prim and proper mode like a pearl clutching charity committee member.
I couldn't keep up and I found the constant metamorphosis fascinating. Maybe I should be a little more worried that she was nearing a mental breakdown, but she seemed relatively harmless. Or maybe I was just blinded by those perky breasts.
"Are we done here?" Her loud voice broke into my laughter. I swallowed it back, but couldn't stop the smile that split my face. Her hands were on her hips and she looked defeated, not pissed off, like I'd hoped.
Pissed off, I liked. Defeated, not so much. Getting the sense that I'd somehow left her licking her wounds after our verbal sparring wiped the smile off my face and had me stepping around the counter. As much as she pissed me off, I wasn't a dick to any girl. Just wasn't in me.
My hand was on her arm, smoothing up and down before I knew what I was doing. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you. I'm just confused as to who you are and what you want from me." I was only inches from her, wanting to see that spark in her eyes again, knowing I'd brought it back.
Instead, she closed those eyes, leaving me suspended in time, hoping she'd forgive me for pushing too far, but also hoping she'd leave and let me get back to my boring life. A shiver ran down the length of her body so it was only natural that I pulled her into my arms and gave her a hug. She was still standing there in a cold, wet bikini because I was busy tormenting her instead of letting her get on her way. The least I could do was lend a helping hand and keep her warm while we argued. Right?
She gasped when I pulled her in, that puff of warm hair hitting my skin we were so close, but she let me hold her, her arms finally coming up around my waist. I felt her nipples digging into my chest and I willed my body not to react. Her head fit perfectly under my chin, the various points of our body aligning like we were meant to be together, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
"Hey Jax, just pulled in-- oh, sorry!" Jonny's voice came from the back door, where he'd entered the shop from the back dock.
Sage and I jumped apart the second we heard we weren't alone anymore. My clean shirt was damp against my skin having absorbed the water from her bikini top. Her boobs left an imprint on my shirt. And my brain.
"No problem, Jonny. This is-- my friend, Sage Vanderman. Sage, this is Jonny. I believe you met this morning."
Sage waved at Jonny, flashing him a smile.
"How'd the board work out for ya?" Jonny asked Sage.
"Oh, you know, got tossed around a bit, and lost my shorts getting on that beast, but it was fun. I'll be trying that again soon, mark my words."
I interject in their conversation, wanting to get her to smile at me like that. Plus, I don't want Jonny to start envisioning her without her bikini bottoms. "How about we go together and I'll show you the basics?"
And there it was. That smile that lit up her whole face. "Okay, you're on."
"Okay, well, I'll go find something to do out back. Nice seeing ya, Sage!" Jonny backed out the door and I thought of ways to pay the guy more, in thanks for his quick read of the situation and his speedy exit.
Sage didn't even acknowledge his retreat, her gaze focused entirely on me. "I wasn't finished." She got that calculating look I was becoming familiar with. "I was going to say...on one condition."
"And what condition is that?" I was pretty sure she was flirting with me. This was flirting, right?
"You tell me exactly why you don't want to sell this place." She looked around the room, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "It's not like this place is making a lot of money. I bet you're not even in the black."
I shook my head at her slowly. Right back to annoying! "Like a dog with a bone," I mutter. My unruly hair was all over the place as I ran a hand through it, then grabbed the back of my neck, knowing all too well what my answer would be. "Fine, let's get it all out there so you understand where I'm coming from."
Sage got a huge, satisfied grin on her face and my heart stuttered in my chest. I was instantly addicted, like a high schooler's first hit of a Juul. I wanted to make her smile like that again and again. I rolled my eyes, irritated with myself, wondering what the hell was happening to me.
"Here, let's get a shirt on you first." I tossed one of the clean shirts from behind the counter at her. If I had any chance of defending my reasons for not selling, she had to cover up.
After she pulled the shirt over her head, she hopped up on the countertop and leaned back casually on her arms, like the sight of her in one of my shirts was no big deal. In reality, my heart was doing that weird flutter thing again, knowing it was of no significance that she's in my shirt. The girl was cold, she needed some
dry clothes. But the primal, masculine side of me was happy, gloating over this accomplishment, like I had some sort of ownership over her.
"All right, lifeguard, what's your deal?" Her sassy question pulled my mind back to the present conversation.
I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes, the hostile stance a last-ditch effort to create a barrier against her charms.
"This shop may not look like much, but it's value isn't in the walls, the dock, or even the equipment we rent. This building was built in 1971 by my father, with his own two hands. He'd just graduated high school right here in HB and had a dream to own his own business. He worked his ass off to get this business off the ground. I grew up helping him run The Shack, my earliest memories are with him at this dock, showing me how to be safe on the water, and fix boat motors. Every local knows my father, knows The Shack, and every surfer that came through HB for competitions would come here to shoot the shit and get the lay of the land. It's not just a rental shop. It's a landmark. A legacy." I finally took a deep breath. "I can't--I won't sell it. Period. End of discussion."
Sage sat with all that for a moment, then nodded slowly, her face serious. Hopping down from the counter, she stepped closer, laying her hands on my arms. Her eyes warmed to a rich, caramel color, looking up at me like she could see into my soul. It was disconcerting. I hadn't had anyone really look at me like that since my dad died.
"Thank you for explaining. I understand where you're coming from, wanting to preserve the wishes of your father. But I also think he wouldn't have wanted this place to feel like a noose around your neck. He would have wanted you to fulfill your own dream, not live out his. I buy this place, you suddenly have time and cash on your hands. Think about what you could do with that."
She stepped even closer, her chest brushing against my folded arms, no longer chilled, but bringing a strange heat to the small space. Her voice dropped lower, turning this conversation more intimate than two relative strangers should be. "What do you want, Jax? What do you dream of doing?"