This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any locales, or persons living or dead is coincidental. The World Surfing League is a real competition, full of hard knocks and amazing athletes but the characters and situations in this book are entirely fictitious.
Copyright ©2018 Michele de Winton. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, transmit in any form or by any means. For information on subsidiary rights contact the author via her website
www.micheledewinton.com
Please respect the hard work of the author and don’t share this work or purchase it from pirate sites. Pirates always come to a sticky end in all the books I’ve read. Just saying.
Books don’t happen in isolation, so I need to thank all the people who have been such a massive support in bringing these to life. A huge thank you always to Talia Hunter who always cheers me on and tells me when I need to dig deeper. To the Red Hots who are the best cheerleaders, especially Monique, Jennifer, Jane, Dina and Lynn who have been amazing readers and sounding boards for this series. To all of you who read and review our books, thank you! You make this writing life what it is.
Happy reading xxx Michele
Chapter One
Look over here, look over here. Dear Lord of Lips, turn his head my way right now and I’ll bake you cookies for the rest of eternity, Brooke Evans said silently to herself. Okay, not eternity. And maybe not cookies. But I’ll learn to bake, and I’ll make a batch of something edible one day, and I’ll dedicate it to you. Look over here, look over here.
Brooke kept up the monologue in her head as she kept a surreptitious lookout for when Holokai Keanu would turn her way. The tall, broad, Hawaiian surfer had the fullest, most luscious lips of anyone she had ever known, and for the past six months they’d been invading her dreams and taking over her body.
Holokai, or Holo as his deep, sotto voce voice had introduced himself to her, had smashed onto the World Surfing League circuit this year and was moving up the ranks with a speed that had taken everyone by surprise. Olive skinned, with shoulder length wavy hair and a tattoo cuff on his left forearm that almost matched her own, Holo was, just, well, hot damn , she barely had the words to start . What’s more, when he’d first arrived, her girlfriend Maya, a PR maven, had hissed through her teeth and raised her eyebrows. “Can’t believe I’m saying this out loud, but holy crap, put the two of you into a commercial together and it would be branding dynamite.” The comment had stuck with Brooke. Branding shmanding, the two of them together would be dynamite, period.
“You’ll do better in the next round. And even better the round after that.”
Brooke dragged her eyes away from Holokai and fixed them on her brother Ashton, sitting next to her at the bar. “I have to.”
He shrugged. “You will. Do you need any money or anything?”
“Thanks, but I’m not a charity case.”
“Never said you were. Just, you know, this gig is hard.”
Didn’t she know it. The thought of her nearly empty bank balance, of the months working double shifts in the shoe store back home in Santa Cruz, California, to save up for this trip, was still stuck in her tired bones.
A wave crashed out in the darkening Indonesian ocean and Brooke heard it all the way up the beach. They were sitting in the container bar set up for the World Surfing League’s Bali event, at the top of the white sand beach near West Sambawa. The sides of the container had been cut open to make full use of the view. And with the breeze still balmy and the sun setting fast in a riot of red and purple, the world was as close to a picture-perfect postcard it had ever got for Brooke. Yet, here she was, sitting with her brother instead of her dream-boyfriend, having to listen to Ash offer her money, because if she wasn’t careful, everything she’d worked for would come crashing down around her.
Brooke looked out of the bar down the sand at where the sea had turned from a rushing mix of white and aqua to a deep echo of the darkening sky’s navy blue. For a moment she was back out in the water. The last wave of the day was lurking beneath her. She could feel its pull, hear the rush of the water all around. She remembered the moment she flexed her arms, then started paddling, hard. The water built up behind her and as she inhaled, wham, the wave was upon her and she was up, standing, riding it. She was feeling the tickle of spray across her face as the water danced her down its length. Feeling the thrust and power of all that water underneath her. In her mind’s eye she was triumphant, the queen of the ocean and then, just as fast, the feeling was gone. Her board turned a moment too late, the wave broke a moment too early and it all went to crap. Water crashing around her, she was struggling to keep her head above the wave and she’d just lost out on winning the second to last event in the women’s championship.
Brooke shuddered at the memory. She couldn’t afford to not win this season. This was it for her. If she didn’t cement her place in the WSL there would be no next year. And she’d never be able to prove to her brother that she could be just as good as him.
Looking for distraction she shifted her gaze over to Holo and this time caught his eye. He grinned and raised his glass towards her, nodding at the sunset. Brooke gave him a slow smile back and bit her lip for good measure but instead of rushing over to check if her mouth needed his careful attention, he turned back to chatting with the promoter he’d been in conversation with this past half hour. Maybe he’d missed the way she’d put her hand in her hair and lifted her head up to give him a look at her long, willing expanse of neck?
Enough. The amount of mental energy she was spending on wondering if Holo had understood her gentle, and not so gentle, flirting, was getting ridiculous. And Brooke didn’t do ridiculous. No, I do impulsive with a dash of leave-it-all-on-the-dance-floor-can’t-go-back-to-that-bar-ever-again.
Two young female groupies sidled up to the bar. “Could we get an autograph?” they asked, and Brooke huffed out a frustrated breath. Today just kept getting better and better.
Ash smiled at her but Brooke sighed. “They mean you,” she said wearily.
“Seriously? I haven’t been in the water for years.”
“Yeah, but you rocked it when you did and your photos are amazing,” the girl said. She held up the paper and Brooke realized it was an action shot of Holo, mid turn, that Ash had taken.
“You know my sister is killing it now, right?” Ash said.
“Oh yeah. Totally killing it. My brother is tooootally in love with you,” one of them said. “Actually, can I get your autograph? He’ll love me forever.” She grabbed a beer mat from the bar and pushed it at Brooke who signed it without bothering to comment. When they left, she turned to her brother. “Don’t need to fight my battles for me, bro.”
“I know, I know. I just…I’m old news.”
She didn’t bother to respond.
“Hey. You’ve got mean skills. I should know.”
“Whatever. Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend anyway?”
“Summer’s already in bed. And I’m going to join her. Chin up okay? Get an early night.”
And then he was gone. Brooke kicked herself for being such a snarky bitch when he was only trying to be supportive and drained her beer before nodding to the barkeeper for another.
It was easy for someone like Ash to commiserate with her about almost making it. Despite the accident that had taken him out of competing, he’d been right at the top for long enough that people still wanted his autograph. But for Brooke… I’m just the surfer some young bimbette’s brother has a crush on. She sighed and took a lon
g pull on her beer.
She and Ash had always been super competitive, and when he was successful on the surfing circuit she’d been under his shadow. Since his accident, the shadow had lifted and she felt the pressure to make it and make it big. And yet, here she was. Not there yet. She looked at the leader board again. So close.
“You look like someone snapped every board in your bag.”
Holy Hawaiian Hot Sauce, but his voice did stupid things to her. Brooke had to stop herself biting the end off her beer bottle when Holo’s deep baritone drifted in her ear. His wasn’t just a melodious voice, it was like the warming hit of whiskey straight after a crisp cool beer. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was smooth alright, but not completely top shelf. There was still some malt in there, some grit, something to get your teeth stuck into. She looked up into his dark, almost black eyes and apparently lost the ability to talk. She looked away again, fast . “Hi,” she managed. Hi?
“I get it. You thought you had this one in the bag. Coming second always sucks.”
Her mouth opened inadvertently. Then she snapped it shut and the lust-haze lifted. “Oh my god. Yes. It totally sucks. But you can’t say so ‘cause then you’re a sore loser,” she said without thinking. This was more her style, talk first and think later. She mentally kicked herself.
“And everyone tells you there’s always next year but maybe there isn’t.”
Brooke looked up into Holo’s eyes again and almost drowned. Seriously, the depths in those things were immense. Profound. Sexy as hell. Could the guy get any more perfect? He’d glossed over her snark and met her right in the middle of it. She struggled for a coherent sentence. “Thanks. Not everyone gets it.”
“Not everyone has money behind them either. Plane tickets aren’t cheap.”
Finally, she smiled. “Double shifts at the shoe store and waitressing when I could get it. You?”
His grin made his eyes dance. “Laborer five days a week. Dishwasher in the weekends.”
Is this a moment? Are we having a moment? Brooke’s skin prickled, goosebumps leaping up all the way to her neck despite the warm evening. The noise of the bar, her disappointment about her event, the sharp taste of the beer on her tongue, it all disappeared as she looked up into Holo’s gentle, understanding, immensely gorgeous eyes.
“Yo, Holo. See you in the A.M.,” someone yelled across the bar and the quiet bubble she’d just built around herself disappeared. Holo’s head jerked around. “Hold up, I’m coming too, I have to ask you something.”
The goosebumps flattened out and Brooke felt her face fall. No. Don’t you dare. It was a moment. It was.
Holo turned back to her. “Sorry, I’ve gotta dash. Chin up though hey? None of your boards really snapped and we’ve got another week here in Bali. You should stop by my place, I’m in the room on the beach, one with a hot tub. We can compare notes about getting from underdog to top dog.” And with that, he turned his stupid-making shoulders away and took his whiskey-sexy voice with him.
“You done?” The barkeeper motioned at the bottle in her hand and Brooke realized that it had gone from an icy cold beverage to a lukewarm beer while she’d been sitting ogling Holo.
“Almost. Think I’ll call it a night too.” She gulped at the beer despite its warmth and then stood. Bad idea. Draining the beer so quickly had made the alcohol rush at her with everything it had, and suddenly Brooke wasn’t feeling nearly as sober as she’d thought she was. “How many of these have I had?” She asked the barkeep and he smirked. “Free bar gets everyone every time. At least five, maybe six.”
“Shit.” Four beers was her cut off. Six beers was a recipe for her tongue feeling like it had volunteered to lick out the bar’s ashtrays in the morning. “Don’t feel that bad. Must have only been five,” she said then sagged a little as the room swayed around her.
“If you say so. You want me to get someone to walk you back to your hotel?”
“Nah. I’m good.” She started for the exit. Once she got underway she felt a little better and when the cooler breeze from the ocean licked at her face, Brooke stood straighter. The barkeeper must have got it wrong. Four beers for sure, she’d just got wobbly because she drank the last one too quick.
The conversation with Holokai replayed in her mind. It was a moment. Finally. She gave herself a little hug. Dynamite. Holo understood her, that much was clear, so maybe he’d get how well they would go together. Maybe he’d just been waiting for the right moment. Or maybe he just needed a little nudge. He’d practically invited her over and they both had the day off tomorrow.
Brooke nodded, even though there was only the ocean to see it. She was on the leader board, but she wasn’t at the top. She needed a backup plan if she was going to stay in on the WSL circuit long term. That meant sponsors, income, visibility. Holo was her perfect man, and together they’d make the perfectly sponsorable team. With him on her arm she’d be able to focus on the circuit full time, work for sponsors, keep surfing, get to the top for real.
Mind made up, she changed direction and instead of heading towards her cheap room, headed for the resort where most of the male competitors were staying.
Chapter Two
The resort was a whole other level of lush compared to her hotel. Sure, the place she was staying at had a glorious pool and a giant double bed; she was forever grateful that her American dollars went so much further in Indonesia. But this place… she spun around and took in the individual thatched cottages; the infinity pool in front of the ocean and the lavish gardens which even now smelt like someone had painted everything with honey. The one on the beach. How had he managed to get the best room of all when he’d admitted he was on as tight a budget as she was? She thought about Holo’s giant smile and his warm manner and grinned into the darkness. That was how. Charming the pants off the reception desk clerk? Too easy for a guy like him.
After strolling through the gardens she found the only one that could have been considered on the beach and stood at the ornately carved door. She stood there a moment, listening for sounds of life inside, too nervous to knock. Nothing. This was a bad idea. Turning to go, she stumbled over the doormat and leaned on the door to right herself. It swung open. He had invited her over. The open door was proof of that, right?
She slipped inside. “Hello? Holokai?”
No reply. Forget goosebumps; feeling like her nerve endings were on the outside of her skin, Brooke tiptoed around the cottage, then stopped herself and walked normally. There was no one here. Had she got her signals totally wrong back at the bar? You should stop by my place... It had definitely felt like flirting. No, no, it was flirting. She just needed to do something about it. Time to get make sure Holo got the message loud and clear that she was in. All in.
A sound from behind the kitchen stopped her. A splash? She peered through a darkened window but couldn’t see anything. Another splash. Hot tub! Holo said he had a hot tub. Perfect. Sober up, lady. Time to put your big girl wetsuit on and grab your boy by the boardshorts. Or something like that anyway.
Walking through the dark house, her heart jumping up somewhere near her throat, she had to take a long deep breath to get it back behind her ribs. She wasn’t sure what she was doing yet, but she was doing something. Something that would get Holo’s attention and keep it.
She slipped out the back door. The hot tub hummed in the calm night air but it was pitch black outside with clouds over the moon. And with the back door shut, the one source of artificial light was blocked by a curtain. There was only her intuition to see by. No turning back now.
“Hello there, where did you come from?” The voice was slightly different. Darker? But it was the same Hawaiian accent, the same shiver-inducing deep tone. Must have just been the night air and the hot water having an effect on his vocal chords. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t here to talk.
“Out of the ocean,” she said on impulse. “You could say I’m the mermaid of your dreams. Your wildest dreams.”
He chuckled. “Nic
e. We’re playing it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like the night is conspiring with us. Throwing us together outside of our normal lives. Two strangers in the darkness.” His voice was a deep growl. Much deeper than earlier, but this was somehow better. Richer. More compelling. Maybe because they were alone.
Brooke gave herself an internal high five. “Strangers in the darkness. I like that.” She paused and then allowed for a little more of the truth. “I just needed to get out of my head for a bit. This is perfect. Dark night. Hot water. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Hot tubs are meant for two.”
Now or never, girl. She slid a hand under the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up and off. Then she shucked her shorts till she was just standing in her bikini. For the briefest of moments, the moon came out from behind the clouds. She looked down at herself. The moonlight coated her body, making her skin glow. Then it was gone and when she looked back up, her body, the man, the hot tub, the world was pitch black again. For a second she wished she could see Holo’s face, and then just as quickly she was glad she couldn’t. Anonymity was good. It made her feel powerful. She was a woman ready to take the man of her dreams and make her future real.
Slithering into the hot tub she relished the warmth of the water on her skin. Smiling into the darkness she said, “It’s really dark out here isn’t it? I can’t even see any stars.”
“There’s no street lights or cars, nothing to break the night. Not now you scared the moon away with your beautiful smile. You look great on that surfboard of yours, but when you were coated in moonlight for that split second, man, you’re something else. I was already a big fan, but this,” he blew out through his teeth. “This side of you is…” he paused, considering. “You’re wild as the ocean, aren’t you?”
She let the compliment warm her as much as the water. “Thanks.” She paused, considering that he might really have been interested all this time and wondering how to follow on from his flattery. She settled on simple honesty. “I’ve been watching you too,” she said.
The Wrong Brother for Brooke (Hot Tide Book 3) Page 1