by Julie Kenner
“Life has a way of kicking us in the ass when we’re not looking, huh?” he soothed.
JC took a breath and looked out to sea. The exhibition to whet the North Shore’s appetite for the Girls Go Banzai competition was in a few days and the competition itself was in two weeks. She needed the board and that was all. Liar, her mind said and she pushed it away.
“You have a very nice…mouth and you certainly know what to do with it, but Zack, I can’t get involved here. I told you…”
“I know what you told me, but that was before we kissed.”
He looked at her bare legs then, and concentrated on them. And such concentration. If he’d slid his finger over her thighs and ankles and down to her bare toes, she couldn’t have been more aware of him. With his blue-eyed gaze moving over her so intently, she couldn’t take a deep breath. Light-headed, she couldn’t move, couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.
“It happened. We kissed. Now, we have to focus on why we were together in the first place. You wrecked my surfboard.”
“I did wreck your surfboard. That’s true and I’ve offered to replace it. Now, I’m getting the feeling that you’re trying to get me to back off by reminding me that what happened between us is my fault. I could take offense at that. Do what you want and send me to my separate corner. But I wasn’t the only one here who was affected. I have to point out, JC, that you kissed me first.”
He still had a hold on her wrist and he reeled her closer and smiled, his teeth flashing white in the darkness.
“I will concede that neither one of us resisted very hard.” Zack continued when JC didn’t answer. “You kissed me right back. Very nicely, too, I might add. So, the question you have to answer is, do you want to resist me some more?”
He let her go and folded his arms across his hard chest. She really didn’t have a leg to stand on. She had kissed him first and it wasn’t in her nature to back down from a challenge.
She reached out and grasped his forearm, feeling suddenly guilty for throwing all the blame on him. The feel of him anchored her as she drifted in the dark river of his eyes. “And you’re right. I did kiss you first and did respond, so I can’t really cast the blame totally on you. If truth be told, I should have been more vigilant when I was surfing. It’s both our responsibilities that my surfboard was demolished. So, I think we should both work on restoring it.”
“There’s still time, if you wanted to get started tonight. It won’t take long to shape it, but the fiberglass will take about two weeks to cure. That will give you the strongest board.”
“I need to call my friends so they don’t worry. Give me a minute.”
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and walked far enough away from him enough for a private conversation.
“Hello.”
“Drea, it’s JC.”
“Hey, we were wondering what was going on with you. How did your sponsor meeting go?”
JC could hear the hurt in Drea’s voice and her hand tightened on the phone. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. It didn’t go well and I kinda lost it. Then I ran into Zack.”
“Oh,” Drea said. “You had a Zack attack.”
JC chuckled, unable to hold on to her anxiety when talking with the always-upbeat Drea.
“You could say that. Now, he wants me to go to his workshop and help him craft my new board. I wanted to let you and Laci know.”
“We appreciate that, but we sure understand why you didn’t call us. I think Zack is dreamy. I’m sorry that your sponsor meeting sucked. We’ll boycott them if you want us to.”
This time JC laughed. “That’s okay, Drea. They haven’t dropped me yet.”
“Okay. Call us if you need anything. I mean anything at all—a ride, clean clothes, condoms—anything.”
JC laughed again. “Condoms, huh?”
“Have you looked at Zack, JC?”
She threw a glance over her shoulder to the man standing in the moonlight and thought that was the problem. She was too eager to look at every inch of him. Any other time she wouldn’t have hesitated, but this competition was too important to become sidetracked. She couldn’t deal with a man in her life right now, but she could deal with a just-sex relationship if Zack was willing. Who was she kidding? Men were always willing.
“Don’t worry, Drea, I’ve still got hormones and my eyesight is twenty-twenty.”
“Good, because you cannot live on surfing, my friend. Practice, practice and more practice makes JC a dull girl. Life is about balance.”
“I’ll take your advice into consideration, Drea.”
“So we shouldn’t wait up for you?” Drea asked.
“I didn’t say I was going that far, sweetie.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Your dad called and wondered why you hadn’t been by to see him. He said to stop by anytime.”
Guilt twisted JC’s stomach into knots. She’d been in Hawaii three whole days and hadn’t contacted her father. JC knew why she was reluctant to visit her father. It was all about her declining stats.
“I’ll call him. Thanks.”
She closed her phone and returned to Zack. “Let’s go.”
He smiled and came alongside her. “My Jeep’s over here and, for your information, I have plenty of condoms at my house.”
JC stopped dead and stared, her stomach jumping with anticipation. Zack turned and gave her a self-satisfied smile, and JC couldn’t help but smile back.
“What’s the matter, Fanning? Having a hard time finding a willing partner?”
He chuckled as he walked to his Jeep. “No. I save them for someone special.”
Her stomach knotted. “We are going to work, right?”
“We are. I promise.”
For some reason, JC wasn’t thoroughly convinced. “Because there needs to be ground rules before we go forward with this.”
“Ground rules?” Zack asked.
“That’s right. No more kissing and no sex.”
“Guess we won’t need those condoms,” Zack said with a mock leer.
JC laughed and slid into the passenger side of his Jeep. “You are a bad boy, Mr. Fanning.”
“I try,” he said.
When they pulled up in front of a gorgeous residence, all glass and wood, not far out of Haleiwa, JC turned to look at Zack.
“This doesn’t seem like a workshop.”
“My workshop is in the back. Fanning Surf Shop, where I sell my merchandise, is located in Haleiwa, but I prefer shaping and working here. I custom-built this workshop. Come see it.”
He led her around the house to a garagelike structure attached to the place with a covered breezeway. She caught a glimpse of the ocean shining in the background along with a pool, hot tub and a beautiful two-level lanai.
He reached a set of wide double doors and threw them open. Following him into the structure, she heard another set of doors being pulled open and saw Zack way in the back, silhouetted against the night.
“I built it with doors on both sides. I can see the ocean when I’m working and catch a wave with a new surfboard to try it out. I also catch the ocean breeze and it makes it much less stuffy in here.”
“It’s impressive,” JC said as she surveyed the area and took in all the neatly stored equipment and power tools. She could smell the blend of wood and resin and it was a familiar scent that made her long to be out on the waves with her board.
“I suggest we get out of these clothes.”
“Excuse me?” JC said, whipping around to face him.
Zack laughed, the rat. “Making a surfboard is a messy business. I have some old clothes in the house that should fit you. Come on.”
JC followed him out of the workshop and along the breezeway until they came to one of several sliding-glass doors. Zack unlocked it and stepped straight into the living room. The room was beautifully decorated in a modern style. Comfortable furniture looked inviting in the dark green-and-blue sunken living room, and sumptuous rugs covered the wood floors.
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nbsp; He turned to the left and started to climb the staircase, but stopped when she didn’t follow.
“Come on.” He gestured.
She moved toward the staircase and followed him up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. Inside was a huge four-poster king-size bed, with a headboard featuring an ornate carving of banana leaves.
He rummaged around in a few drawers and pulled out a couple of pairs of cutoff jeans and two T-shirts that had seen better days. He threw a pair of shorts and a T-shirt to her.
“Try these on. The bathroom’s through there.”
He pointed toward an opening in the wall. Following his directions, she turned around and asked, “Where’s the privacy?”
“It’s a pocket door. It’s in the wall.”
“Oh,” she said and pulled the door closed.
She quickly undressed down to her bathing suit and found that, although the shorts were a bit big, they fit. The T-shirt was roomy, too, but would work for the job she was going to do.
When she opened the door, Zack was already changed and waiting for her.
“They fit okay?”
“Yes, fine. Thanks.”
“I wore those shorts when I was younger and a little thinner.” She eyed his body and could see no fat on the man at all. He’d broadened through the chest, shoulders and waist as most males did. There was no mistaking that Zack Fanning was definitely a man.
“Let’s go. Time’s awasting.”
She followed him once more through the jaw-dropping house until they reached the kitchen, where he grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge. He handed her one and opened the other, taking a big swig.
“What kind of wood is this?” JC smoothed her hands over the dark cabinetry with uneven black stripes moving through it like waves.
“Zebra.”
“It’s beautiful, as is the rest of your house.”
He shrugged. “I bought it when I was at the peak of my surfing career. It was a sanctuary, then. I guess it still is.”
“Do you miss competitive surfing?”
“Yes, I do. After four years, I miss pitting myself against others who have the same skill and drive. I miss winning.” He smiled wistfully and took another swig of his water.
“Where are your parents?”
“They’re on the mainland in San Diego. My mom used to work for the navy and my father was a banker, but they’re both retired now. They visit often.”
“Why did you decide to stay in Hawaii?”
“I love it here and there’s surf right out my door. When surfing ended for me, making surfboards became my business and where better to sell surfboards than here?”
He led her out still another door and they were back in the breezeway, heading toward his workshop.
He set the water down on a table in the corner and went to a wall that held blanks, the beginning form of a surfboard, and that was about all JC knew about surfboard-making.
“What are you? Five foot five and a hundred and twenty pounds?”
“Don’t you know that a gentleman never asks a woman her weight?”
“He does if he’s crafting a custom surfboard.”
“You’re absolutely right. That in itself is pretty impressive.”
“It’s what I do. I guess the airlines haven’t found your other boards.”
“No.”
“That’s fine. We have time to make this the best board you’ve ever ridden. Have you ever tried a parabolic?”
“No. I’ve stuck pretty much with the classic shortboard.”
“In the Pipeline I would recommend you use a gun and with the twang of a parabolic it’ll have you powering through those waves and sliding through the tubes like you were shot out of a cannon.”
“Sounds great. I saw ten-foot waves at the Pipe just yesterday.”
“That’s nothing. They can get up to twenty or twenty-five feet. Okay, I’m going to go with a gun or what I would call semigun, which would be about seven feet. Sound good to you?”
“Yes.”
He chose a board and set the blank on top of two board rests made out of wood specifically shaped to accommodate the board.
“The first thing that we have to do is remove the crust. All blanks come with a protective cover, but we want to get down to the foam. I use a planer to take us about one-eighth of an inch into the foam.” He handed her both a mask and safety glasses.
Walking over to a workbench, he picked up a power tool. “This is a planer and is used to shape the board. I’ll show you how it works and then you can give it a try.”
JC nodded.
He set the planer to the blank and turned on the power. Foam dust kicked up, but the breeze pushed it away from her face and the mask protected her. She watched him move over the board. It was like watching a master surfer—all sure movements and deep knowledge of what he was doing.
The use of the tool plumped his biceps and his shoulder muscles moved thickly under his skin. As he worked, a sheen of perspiration coated his skin. The wind kicked up again and ruffled his shaggy blond hair away from the strong column of his neck. Under the bright lights of the workshop, the blond stubble on his face gave him a primal, sexy look. She imagined that this is what the sun would look like if it was transformed into a man—all golden skin and golden hair.
She was moving back into that deep, deep water, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
He looked up and smiled. “Want to give it a try?”
She nodded and moved in front of him. He slipped his hands around her, pressed against her back. His groin hugged the curves of her behind, burning through denim to her. His hands covered hers, warm and strong, hands of an artisan.
“Start the planer off the foam. The bottom of the board is the most important. We want to make sure the rocker, the curved part, is shaped correctly.” His warm breath tickled her ear and sent goose bumps all over her.
She nodded, pulled the trigger on the tool, and set it to the foam. They moved as one across the board. A board she would eventually ride in a competition that was the fulcrum from which her very career swung. It would either be an amazing rise to the top or the fall from on high. She almost would rather lose horribly than place somewhere in the middle of the pack and be just plain average.
She lost her focus and the planer went too deep into the foam. “Damn,” she said, turning to look at him behind her. “Is it ruined?”
“No, just a rookie mistake that I can fix. No problem. Let’s finish planing.” They moved up and down the board in an almost sensual dance as the motion of Zack’s hips and groin against her sensitized her skin and heated her body.
When they came to the end of the board, Zack signaled that they should stop.
He put the planer away and picked up the end of the board and checked down its length. “Looks good. Let’s get the deck done.” He turned it over and made quick work of planing the top of the board.
He took the time to eye the board again, then flipped it over to work on the rocker again and, presumably, to fix her mistake.
He picked up a curved tool and JC asked, “What’s that?”
“You’ve never seen a surfboard shaped?”
“No. I just ride them.”
“It’s a sureform. When you want to do more subtle work on the board and a power tool is too much, you use this tool to smooth it out.”
“You obviously know what you’re doing. How long have you been shaping boards?”
“Since I was twelve. I got a job in a surf shop when I was sixteen. The owner gave me discounts on the boards and the job was flexible enough that I could make some money and surf when I wanted to.”
“I already know so much about your career. Three-time world champion and inducted into the Surf Walk of Fame. Six years ago, you blew out your knee right here in the Pipeline. You retired two years later after falling in the rankings because of your injury.”
His hands stilled and his eyes went a flat blue, like the ocean before a terrib
le storm. He smiled bitterly. “The good and the bad.”
This was a difficult conversation and she wasn’t sure why she was pushing him. She wanted to know what his real feelings were beyond that happy-go-lucky facade he obviously used to keep the world at bay. She knew all about that facade. She had one of her own. Tough JC Wilcox. “Yes, I wanted to know all of it. You’ve seen me not at my best and that gives you somewhat of an edge. I wanted to see the raw side of you.”
“Will that make us even?”
She met his pain and anger with her chin up and her eyes clear. “No, not in the sense of tit for tat, but it will make us balanced. Just like the good and the bad.”
“I don’t like what happened, JC. It wasn’t what I had planned for my life, but it happened and I moved on.” He bent to the board again.
JC stared at him, at the wild gleam of pain in his eyes, the muscles that stood out as he clenched his jaw, the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
“Did you?” she asked softly, her hand going to the top of his on the power tool. She watched, breathless and intent at the changing emotions in his deep blue eyes.
He breathed slowly and let it out. “It was…devastating to let it all go. I was lost for a while, but I found my way.”
JC sighed, too. The genuine emotion that he showed her made her relax against a bench. The connection to the man made her tremble inside. “Do you miss it?”
“Yes, every damn day,” he said, his voice low and full of meaning.
“I’m sorry.” And she was. Her heart ached for what he had lost, but soared for his ability to put it in the past and move on with his life.
He shrugged. “It’s the curve life threw at me. I’ve learned to take lemons and make lemonade.”
“You’re very talented, Zack.”
At the soft tone of her voice he looked up and blushed. Her heart melted.
“Thanks.”
As he finished up the board, she thought that she hadn’t realized she could get so much pleasure from watching a man work.