by Zana Bell
Her stride didn’t falter as she picked up the towel hanging over the bars of the treadmill and threw it at him. “Get outta here!”
He grinned as he caught it. “I dare you to go in the waves.”
She fixed him with a look that was as stern as possible while loping along, sweat dripping into her eyes. She really, really didn’t want to go into the waves. She’d be in his territory. However, there was an offer on the table, and as a lawyer, she couldn’t resist.
“If I do, you’ve got to forfeit something.”
“Like what?”
“Let me see the book you’re writing.”
He didn’t even stop to consider it. “No way. It’s nowhere near ready for publication.”
“Brad tells me you’ve already missed one deadline.”
“Brad’s got a big mouth.”
“You have to get used to people reading it. That’s what books are for.”
“Why are you interested?”
“Because I bet Brad you’d show it to me.”
“Is that so?” She could tell he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed. “Why?”
“He’s promised to clean the oven if I can persuade you to let me see the book. It’s a disgusting mess—the oven, I mean. I haven’t seen the book yet.”
“And?”
“And what?” It was hard to look innocent when she was becoming winded.
“There’s got to be another reason.”
“It’s something you’re shy about. He says no one’s even had a glimpse of it yet. If you’re pushing me out of my comfort zone, I’m going to push you out of yours, too.”
Throwing back his head, Jake laughed. “I knew it! It’s well masked, but you, Miss Pain-in-the, are a ball breaker.”
She began running up a virtual incline. “So it’s a deal?”
“I’ll show you the first chapter.”
“No. I want more.”
“Three chapters?”
She could see this was really eating the guy. “Five chapters. That’s my final offer. I can’t settle for less or Brad won’t buy it. I’m going to have a hard time convincing him, having sold out so low as it is.”
Jake threw up his hands in defeat. “Okay, deal. But I’m quite sure you’ve got your clean oven, Ms. Walker. Brad doesn’t stand a chance against you. And I don’t want any helpful comments when I show the chapters to you. They’re only in draft form, remember.” Man, he was really insecure about this. He tried to cover up by adding, “Bloody Brad, I’ll enjoy watching him sweat. Might go and put an extra layer of grease over the oven.”
“Doesn’t need it.” She could only talk in short sentences now. “Go. I’ve a hill coming up.”
He laughed again and hooked the towel over the rail. “Looking great,” he murmured into her ear.
She stumbled and nearly lost her rhythm altogether. “Go on, get lost.”
With a wink, he headed out the door.
A LITTLE LATER, in her swimsuit and a sarong, Sass crested the hill. She could see five figures out on the waves below her—two paddling out, three quite far out, sitting alert on boards. She could see the set of waves moving in.
They let the first wave go. The second was taken by two boys who swooped down the face, one tumbling in the whitewash as it reached the shore. She winced. The third wave was big and the remaining surfer took it. From his comparative size, she realized it was Jake. He swung into a crouch as he tipped over the edge of the wave and began weaving his way from the top to the bottom and back to the top again. One more long run brought him down its length and as it broke on the shoreline, he leaped lightly off into knee-deep water.
Jake had seen her watching, and waved. She returned the wave, making her way down the dunes toward him. His hair was swept off his face in a wet tangle; his biceps were taut as he held the board. The water sucked and pulled at his long legs. His green eyes were shining—the adrenaline, she guessed.
“That looked incredible.”
“It was a fantastic wave,” he agreed. “Want to come out?”
She shook her head. “I’d like to watch first.”
“Okay.” He cocked his head. “When you’re ready, I’ll leave the board and come out with you.”
She felt a spurt of relief, but wasn’t going to show weakness. “You really don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He sounded genuine. “The waves aren’t so big close to shore. I’ll show you how to catch them.”
“Mmm.” She was unconvinced, but added a reluctant, “Okay.”
She was already regretting her deal. It wasn’t that she was afraid—exactly. She’d been in waves before, but she liked them small, predictable, with the ground never more than a couple of feet below her. What she really hated was the idea of being knocked down by the sea and feeling utterly powerless, yet there was no way she could ever express this fear to Jake.
He nodded and headed back into the water, throwing himself onto the board and paddling out with powerful strokes. Well, that explained the honed biceps and pecs. A wave broke and he ducked under the whitewash, popping up on the other side. He looked like a sea creature, she thought. A merman. She smiled at the foolish idea, but found it kind of sexy at the same time. She stretched out on her towel, propping up on her elbows to watch the action. Brad was next, running up exhilarated.
“The waves are fantastic. We’ve had some wicked rides.”
Sass couldn’t help laughing at his enthusiasm. “I’ve seen a couple. Y’all look great. Go on, get back to it.”
He gave her a thumbs-up and ran into the water. The twins and Paul were too shy to come out to say hi, but waved to her as they circled around.
Sass had meant to study the beach and setting from a professional point of view, but she kept being sidetracked by the surfers in front of her. It was a beautiful sport, she discovered. The green-blue waves were almost transparent, the sky a brilliant blue. She didn’t try differentiating between the figures on the boards, although Jake was always immediately identifiable, not only because of his height, but also because he rode the waves longer, more confidently. It was a joyous sport. There were whoops when one of the boys caught an exceptional wave. Laughter when one got knocked over. They sped down crests, then immediately paddled out again. It was exhausting just to watch them, but also mesmerizing. She lost track of time—she who charged for her work in ten minute increments and planned accordingly—and was surprised to see Jake making his way toward her.
“Ready for a swim?” he called.
She felt butterflies in her stomach. It was one thing to watch these guys play like dolphins, it was another for her to go in. But she’d been dared. “Sure,” she said, rising.
Was that approval she saw in his eyes before he lay his board down and undid his ankle strap? “Good,” he said.
They walked to the water. “Have you swum in waves much?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I’ve only had one vacation by the sea and spent most of my time in the hotel pool.”
“Then I’m the lucky one who’ll introduce you to a new sort of heaven.” Jake took her hand. “Come on, I won’t let go.”
“I don’t need you to hold my hand,” she said as they waded in. But as the water sucked and pulled at her feet, she appreciated the firm grip. The water was cold! It splashed up, making her gasp as they waded in past their knees.
“It’s always best to dive in before it hits the crotch,” Jake advised.
“I don’t know…”
“I do. Count of three. Trust me. One. Two. Three.”
Snatching a breath, she dived, keeping hold of Jake’s hand. They surfaced together, laughing as she coughed, hair covering her face.
“Should have tied it up,” she said, flipping it back off her forehead.
“It would be more practical,” Jake agreed, “but now you look like a mermaid.”
She shot him a withering look. No way would she let on that she’d imagined him as a merman.
“Ready to
swim?” His eyes were almost the color of the water. Being wet also made his tanned skin seem darker. He would taste of salt, she suddenly thought, and had a fleeting image of licking that broad chest.
She dived under the breaking wave.
During the following hour Jake stayed with her, teaching her to read the waves. They arrived in sets, the earlier ones generally being softer than the later ones.
“You need to line up facing the shore,” Jake explained. “Then when the wave comes, you swim like mad. It’ll pick you up and carry you in.”
It sounded easy, too easy.
“But how do I know which one to catch?” she asked.
“You’ll learn to recognize them.”
Sass didn’t like having her back to the wave. “I can’t see then if something’s wrong.”
“What could go wrong?”
“A shark. A lunatic surfer who hasn’t seen me.”
“You’re going to have to learn to trust your instincts.”
That made her smile. “I trust my instincts and they are saying ‘Sass Walker, you belong on land, girl!’”
Jake laughed. “You’re a strong swimmer.”
“I don’t trust all this whitewash stuff.”
“What’s the worst that’ll happen?”
“I’ll be knocked down.”
Which is exactly what happened the very next wave. She was swept off her feet and barreled up to shore in a terrifying tangle of salt, sand and limbs. It really was like being churned in a washing machine. She couldn’t tell up from down, couldn’t swim, couldn’t breathe. Could only surrender to the waves and hope like hell they’d take her to shore. They did. She landed with a whack and was dragged and ground painfully over the sandy bottom. She came up spluttering, saltwater burning her throat so badly she could hardly talk. It stung to open her eyes. Then she felt a strong hand under her elbow, heard the twang of a Kiwi accent.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it? You’ve just survived the worst that could happen, Ms. Walker.”
“No.” She coughed because of all the salt in her mouth. “I’ve just thought of something worse—not surfacing.”
He helped her back on her feet. “I promise you, as long as I’m around, or one of the boys, we’ll make sure you surface every time.”
She was annoyed to find herself feeling grateful to this patronizing male—not that he was patronizing as such. Protective maybe. And confident. Very, very sure of himself.
“Let’s do it again,” she said, determining then and there never to need rescuing. “Come on.”
This time she was the one who waded in quicker, duck diving out to where the waves broke.
JAKE WATCHED HER forging ahead and had to hand it to her—she had guts. He’d seen her reservation, which had turned to alarm when she was wading out. And that had been quite a battering she’d taken, but still she was hell-bent on proving she could do it. Without his help.
She had an athletic build. Seeing her on that damned treadmill today had reminded him of how long her legs were, and now, watching her dive through the waves, he saw she had the grace of a woman used to her body obeying her. Aerobic classes, he guessed, and many laps at some indoor pool. She also had the mind and determination of an athlete. She might have found his interruption disconcerting this morning, but she hadn’t stopped training. This had amused him but impressed him, too.
His thoughts strayed back to the previous evening. She’d been great with that social worker and the boys. When Sass forgot to be that uptown, uptight lawyer, she was warm and relaxed as a summer’s night. And those twilight eyes of hers…
This morning he’d woken with a jolt and lain in bed for a while, analyzing the emotion that had pulled him out of sleep. It was, he’d realized, anticipation. Or apprehension. It was hard to tell, but clearly he needed to become better acquainted with the New Yorker. Because, he explained to himself, he was damned if he was going to be played the way the social worker had been. Know thy enemy. But then the way she’d laughed with the boys…Hell, he didn’t know what he thought anymore. It hadn’t been true that the boys had suggested inviting Sass; it had been his idea. His brief, he reminded himself, was to get her to fall in love with the land, see it through their eyes. But as he’d walked over to the sleep-out, his stomach had tightened in a way it hadn’t since he’d been a teenager crazy with first love.
“This wave?” she called out, mercifully interrupting his train of thought.
“Yeah, swim!” he shouted. But though she went flat out, the wave passed beneath her.
“What went wrong?” she asked, disappointed, when he swam out to her.
“You missed it, that’s all. It happens.”
She missed the next two, got bowled over again on the third—one he caught. She surfaced, spluttering.
“Man, I’m useless,” she said, full of self-loathing. “This is way harder than it looks. And yet you caught it.”
“I’ve lived in the water, remember.”
“So how long does this game take to learn?”
“You’ll get it soon enough.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that sort of talk before—from motivational bullshit artists!”
“Ouch. It was meant as encouragement.”
“Well, I want to get out now.”
“One last wave.”
“No.” She began wading back to shore.
“I’ll show you another chapter.”
She paused but didn’t turn around. God, she really did have some body.
“Another chapter, and I’ll introduce you to the best coffee shop in Whangarimu. They make great chocolate brownies.”
At this she laughed and turned, her eyes as blue as the Pacific. “Cheap shot, but you’d make one tough prosecutor. Straight for the jugular. Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Together they swam out again. Did she notice how well matched their strokes were? he wondered. The thought was strangely alluring. Definitely, this celibacy thing was getting out of control. And he’d been doing so well, too, until she’d stepped off the plane.
“Now what?” She treaded water and looked at him.
“Now we wait. See? The next set is coming through. We’ll let the first couple of waves go under us.”
“Okay.” She flipped onto her back and floated spread-eagled on the water, eyes closed. “This feels amazing.”
His jaw tightened, but he kept his voice light. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you really relax.”
She smiled, eyes still closed. “Don’t be deceived. This is the face of a woman snatching her last minute of peace before being knocked against that damned beach again.”
Jake laughed and watched as the wave lifted her on the swell, then lowered her. He had to look away, search for the second wave, to keep any semblance of logic in his head.
“Here it comes.”
She righted herself and lined up as he’d shown her.
“We’ll do this together,” he said.
From the look in her eyes he could see she was apprehensive, but from the set of her mouth, he knew she wasn’t about to beg off, either.
“Ready? Now!”
They both took off, he with his long reach, she with a furious, desperate stroke. The swell caught and lifted them. It was going to be a big wave. They were still side by side. “Keep kicking, then arrow!”
He’d yelled, but didn’t know if she’d heard him as the wave peaked, and suddenly they were both sliding down the glassy face. A glance showed him that she was arrowed as he’d shown her, one arm stretched out, carving a path down the sleek water. Then they were scraping along the shoreline in the white salt froth of the spent wave.
Sass lay there for a second, the water dragging back down her body. Then she rolled over, her face alight with joy.
“That was simply incredible!”
And at that moment, as he fought the impulse to lean down and kiss those lips, he knew he was the one who was suddenly out of his depth, not Sass. And with shoa
ls all around him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AFTER BREAKFAST
, Sass took off in her little sports car. When Jake had asked her what she had planned, she said, rather vaguely he thought for a hotshot lawyer, that there were things she wanted to check out in the library. Soon after, he drove Brad and Paul into town, before going on to work a few hours at the remote farm. Mac needed a new fence, and there was something about the jarring noise and vibration of the posthole borer that suited Jake’s mood. If only he could bore out all thoughts and images of Miss Pain-in-the. He’d walked out of the kitchen when she’d been teaching the boys to make pancakes, unable to bear the sight of her winning them over with a judicious mix of toughness and kidding. They’d been putty in her hands. Jake was damned if he was going to fall so easily for Texan wiles. Lost in his work, he hardly noticed the passing of time, and it was only when he happened to glance down at his watch that he realized how close he was cutting things. He was going to be late for parent interviews if he wasn’t careful. Angry with himself and, quite unfairly, with Sass for occupying his thoughts, he packed up fast and began speeding back to town.
Exactly halfway between the farm and town, the van’s rackety engine coughed and died. Swearing, Jake hopped out of the vehicle. But after fiddling with the motor and getting covered in oil, he discovered the power coil had gone and that he’d have to call for a tow. Of all the worst possible times. He texted Brad, knowing Paul’s phone had died a week earlier. No response. He tried ringing. Mark answered.
“What the hell? Where’s Brad?”
He could practically hear Mark’s shrug as he said, “He’s still in town. He forgot his phone.”
Great. Rob and Moana were away for the day, and for a minute Jake agonized. He simply couldn’t afford to look bad in front of Janet again. There was only one thing to do.
She answered on the first ring.
“Sass? Are you still in town? Good. Look, I’m in a bind. The van’s broken down in the middle of nowhere. I’ll get hold of AA but I’m going to be late for the boys’ interviews. Can you warn them? They haven’t got their phones with them. Maybe some could be rescheduled for later.”