Oceans Apart: Book 1

by Amanda Heartley

  I was very proud of the go-getter attitude of my dad, and knew just how hard he’d worked over the years to give me the good life I was enjoying now, but it didn’t mean I was going to let him tell me what I could or couldn’t do. I was a grown man now, as I so often had to remind my parents, and that meant I was going to live my own life.

  “Dad — Dad, I promise, I’ll be ready for dinner, don’t worry, old man.” I calmly explained to my father over the phone as I found my swim trunks and tossed them onto the massive bed that dominated the bedroom of my plush hotel suite.

  “Yes, I said I’ll be ready. I’m just — okay — I said okay. Bye now.” Thank God he knew when to give up trying to beat me into doing things his way, because I could be as stubborn as he was. I was glad to be able to end the conversation before it got any worse and focus on getting dressed. Ginny had arranged to meet me at the front of the hotel at twelve-thirty, and it was only eleven now, so I had plenty of time.

  The last thing I’d expected, two days before going home, was to find someone so interesting, and in a club of all places. I’d only gone there because it was close to the hotel, and after a boring day of client meetings with my father, I just wanted to have a couple of drinks, some friendly conversation and unwind.

  Usually my kind of fun started with a drink in my hand and a pretty girl on my arm. It normally ended with me leaving her house the next morning and texting my best friend Mike in order to have breakfast somewhere with him, but last night had been different.

  For one thing, Mike was back in England, probably getting ready to head to the pub with the rest of our mates since it was Saturday night there now; and for another, I actually had no real intentions of trying to get into Ginny’s knickers. Not because I wasn’t interested, because I was, but she was different from the kind of girl I usually went for. She was lively and vivacious, and above all, she was fun. The social circles I moved in were generally friends of my parents, so I rarely got to meet hot women who weren’t the wealthy, aristocratic type, spoiled by their daddies, judgmental and bitchy.

  I was leaving in less than twenty-four hours, and that was barely enough time to do anything. I wasn’t about to tell her I had money and came from a well-known family back in England. In the time I’d spent with her the night before, Ginny and her friend Kari had treated me like I was just a normal bloke, like there was nothing more special about me than my accent and the fact that I “talked funny”. It had been a very enjoyable night of drinking, dancing and answering their questions about the differences between the States and England.

  Kari had been entertaining, but for some reason, I was looking forward to spending time with Ginny, without her sardonic best friend. She just seemed like the kind of girl who I’d get along with. Ambitious, without being cutthroat about it, and with a shy sweetness that I would have thought was little more than an act if I hadn’t watched her blush so many times at the club.

  I smiled, thinking about the way we’d parted the night before. Me kissing her on the cheek while Kari went to call them a cab back to their house. Ginny’s eyes had been so wide and her face flushed from the little kiss I’d given her. I wanted to brush her hair back behind her ear and kiss her properly, but it would have led to all kinds of things I didn’t think she wanted, so I’d maintained a polite distance until their car came. While walking back to my hotel, alone, enjoying the freshness of a California summer’s night, I thought about the incredible girl I just met…

  I glanced at the clock and saw it was almost eleven thirty, so I made my way to the huge, overdone bathroom in my suite to shower, shave and lather on the sunscreen so I wouldn’t fry to a bloody crisp in the strong California sunshine.

  Forty minutes later, I was dressed in my swim trunks — baggy, black, and long enough to pass for shorts — matched with a pale gray t-shirt; I shoved my feet into my flip-flops. I cracked another smile remembering Kari and Ginny giggling for ages like little schoolchildren when they’d found out I had an Australian coworker who called them “thongs”. I grabbed my sunglasses, wallet and sunscreen before heading out to the front of the hotel to wait for Ginny.

  “Heading out, Mr. Armstrong?” the concierge asked as I walked past the front desk.

  “Yes, for a bit. Going down to the beach for the afternoon. Can’t come to the coast and not spend some time sunbathing, eh?”

  “Quite true. Do you need anything, sir? We could call for a car or arrange a guide for you. Whatever you’d like.”

  I sighed inside, but kept the false smile on my face. “No need. I’m going with a friend, and I’m sure she can show me anything I want to see, since she lives here. But thank you for your hospitality.”

  The older man simply nodded and turned to go about his business. Sometimes, just sometimes, it would be nice to not be treated as someone high profile who had to be sucked up to and made to feel important. That just wasn’t me at all. I was reasonably polite to everyone because my parents brought me up right and Dad would rightly have my head if I ever gave them or the company a bad name, but sometimes I just wanted to tell them all to fuck off!

  Instead of giving into that urge, I went out the front of the hotel and immediately put my sunglasses on to shield my eyes from the bright LA sun. The sidewalk was a hive of activity, with people loading and unloading cars with luggage and bellhops running back and forth. I couldn’t believe how the heat never seemed to bother anyone. Granted, it was pretty dry. It was nothing like the humidity and rain back home. In fact, Southern California practically had guaranteed sunshine, and I had never been to the beach, so I was well chuffed.

  I was leaning against the side of the hotel when a yellow Volkswagen Beetle pulled up to the curb with the convertible top down. Ginny gave me a beautiful smile as she lifted her sunglasses to look at me.

  “Hi, Tristan!” She waved and called out. “I’m not late, am I? You look like you’ve been waiting a while.”

  I grinned and shook my head, opening the passenger door and getting into the car. “No, not at all.” I winked at her, purposefully stretching out my gaze because I liked the way she smiled.

  “Oh, good,” she said, her warm smile stretching all the way across her face. “The beach is probably going to be crowded today because it’s Saturday and it’s really nice out, but there’s a little secluded area where Kari and I like to go to that’s less likely to be packed with sorority girls or screaming kids.”

  I looked across at her. She was just as pretty as I remembered her from the night before and that’s not always been the case when I’ve had a few drinks. “Sounds perfect; I could do without both of those things today.”

  She looked over at me and laughed. I noticed how her eyes sparkled when she smiled. It was something I hadn’t noticed before. And her laugh, it was like music to my ears. “You and me both, England. Let’s get this show on the road.” Ginny pulled her sunglasses down on her face again and pulled off.

  I teased her about the country music she was listening to when suddenly she swerved out of the way of a black car speeding down the street towards us. She yelled out, “Damn! Jerk!” and I had to stifle my laugh.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her, watching her face turning pink while I had the biggest grin on my face. She was so feminine, so real, a breath of fresh air, even when she was yelling at cars in the street.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry for that outburst.”

  “You know why people drive crazy here?” I asked her, chuckling to myself.

  “’Cause they’re idiots?” she replied with a sly smile.

  “’Cause they drive on the wrong side of the road,” I replied, holding back a laugh.

  “Hey! You guys are the wrong-side drivers!” she laughed.

  It didn’t take us long to get to the beach, and the drive had been pleasant. With all the teasing and laughing going on, there was no awkwardness between us, even though we’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours. It felt good to be comfortable with someone without trying too
hard, and it was even better when they didn’t try too hard. Granted, she didn’t know I came from money, but the hotel I’d been staying at was one of the swankiest in the city, so she may have figured something out, but she didn’t ask and I wasn’t about to tell her.

  Chapter 3 — Ginny

  I felt like a total fool yelling at the speeding car, especially with Tristan beside me, but it did scare the crap out of me. That’s all I needed—to get in a wreck with this hot English hunk on the last day he was here.

  I cruised around the parking lot, hoping to find a spot near the secluded part of the beach, but to no avail. After a few minutes, we finally found a space and parked. I got out and grabbed my beach bag from the trunk of the car. I’d brought enough food and drinks to last us all day. Well, I was hoping it would last us a while. I really wanted to spend some time with him. There was something about Tristan that piqued my interest, and that hadn’t happened in a really long time. He grabbed the blanket, both of the folding chairs, and the umbrella.

  “You come prepared, don’t you?” he said as he put the heavy beach bag in his teeth and maneuvered the chairs and umbrella under his arms.

  I had to laugh. I took the beach bag out of his mouth and said, “I’ll get that, don’t be so silly.” I closed the trunk and closed the roof so I could lock it down. “Come on, it’s right over here,” I said, motioning him to follow me.

  “Are you sure you don’t have the bloody kitchen sink in there?”

  I giggled again, I couldn’t help myself. He had a way of making me do that. I honestly felt like a teenager. “Always prepared — and no kitchen sink. I’ve been coming to this beach since I was a little kid, so I know how to prepare. You do not want to be at the beach without the essentials.”

  Finally, we made it to a quiet little spot. The sun was bright, but it was peaceful, and once we’d set up the blanket and umbrella, it was all cool ocean breeze and shade. He quickly crawled up under the umbrella and slid his t-shirt over his head.

  “Scared of the sun?” I teased, and I couldn't help noticing that his pecs were covered in colorful tattoos.

  “I’m English,” he said. “It rains for half of the year over there. I’m not used to this wonderful, yet scorching, sunlight you Californians seem to thrive on, and neither is my skin. I’d like to make it back to London without contracting skin cancer, if it’s all the same to you.”

  That didn’t do anything to stop my giggling, “Is that why you’re all so grumpy over there?” I asked with a bright grin. “Not enough sunlight?”

  “We aren’t grumpy! Plus, too much sun can drive a person mad, you know.”

  “That would explain a lot, actually. So, what’s up with all the tattoos? They look nice.” I ran my fingers across a tribal design he had on his upper arm. “Do they mean anything?”

  “Thank you,” he smiled, “and honestly, they don’t mean anything more than I’m a bad boy. Rebel child, if you will.” Then he pretend-snarled at me, flexing his muscles like the Hulk or someone, and I laughed so hard I fell over onto the blanket.

  “Yeah, right. Tattooed bad boy who needs some sun protection on that white, albeit colorfully designed skin.” I couldn’t stop smiling. He was fun. I sat up and reached my hand to the bottom of the beach bag, searching for some sunscreen. I could sense that he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. I hoped he was as thrilled watching me, as I was watching him watch me. I looked up to see him with a huge grin across his face. “What are you smiling at?” I asked.

  “You. I was just thinking about how I haven’t heard that kind of laughter for ages. You just seem to be happy. And fun. Not to mention gorgeous.” He turned and waved his hand towards the shore. “This is a beautiful beach, it’s a beautiful day, and here I am, spending time with a beautiful woman.”

  He winked at me when he said that, and if anything could have made sparks fly out of my panties, it was the glimmer in those blue eyes. I didn’t consider myself anywhere near beautiful; and the way my hair blew around my face, I couldn’t even imagine what I looked like. But I’d take a compliment for all it was worth. “Thanks, I’m glad you enjoy it.”

  Tristan had sat down on the blanket right next to me, and we both looked out across the ocean. I couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of my eye. We sat close to each other, his arms resting on his knees, and it didn’t feel like I’d only just met him the day before. I had to remind myself of the fact that he was going home tomorrow, so not to get too involved, but I couldn’t help wondering what was underneath his trunks. I blushed at the thought! For some reason he didn’t strike me as the type who would go for a girl like me. Yet I was pleased that, maybe, he might.

  I’d always been good at reading people, and was pretty sure my intuition wasn’t going to let me down this time either, so I leaned over and poked him in the side teasingly, grinning when he turned his startled blue eyes to meet mine.

  “What do you see out there?” I asked, pretending to see whatever he was looking at.

  “It’s so incredible. The ocean…it’s just so huge.” He replied slowly, as if he was in a trance or something.

  “Yeah, I know, there’s a whole ’nother world out there and all we see is water. Big, blue water.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it’s a big ocean, and the Atlantic seems just as wide. Fifteen hours of tedious travel to get home tomorrow, but at least I’m here with you now. I’m thinking, it would be such a shame to be in the presence of such a lovely lady and not spend any time getting to know her a little bit, don’t you think?”

  “That’s a good point,” I said, swiping the sand off my feet. “What do you want to know about me? Would you like a cup of wine first?”

  He looked at me quizzically and asked “A cup? Sure. I’ve never drunk wine from a cup before. They don’t use wine glasses in America?”

  I pulled out a bottle and two Solo cups from my bag. “Yes, we use fancy glasses — duh. But we’re not allowed to drink alcohol on the beach, so everyone drinks it in these.” I handed him the red plastic cup, and as he’d already managed to pull the cork out of the wine bottle, he poured some into both of them.

  We tapped our cups together, said “Cheers” in unison, and then we both took a drink and busted up laughing. We sat silently for a moment; I was a little unsure what to say. And then he finally broke the ice.

  “So, what do you do for a job?”

  That seemed a simple enough question to start with.

  “I’m a paralegal at one of the law firms here in town. I just graduated law school at the university.”

  “That’s pretty impressive,” he replied. “Do you enjoy that sort of work?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, actually I do. I wouldn’t have spent all those years going to school if I didn’t. I mean, my parents were pleased when I went to law school, but I actually did it for me and not just to make them happy. So I’m pretty proud of myself. I know you work in construction, but what do you do there? Are you the burly brick man with the hot bod?” I giggled. I had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.

  “Well, first of all, I’m impressed. For you to be so young and already know what you want to do is brilliant. Just brilliant. And secondly, no, I’m not the burly brick man.” He laughed out loud. “I’m the project manager, but I do work most days on muddy sites with the bricklayers, yes. And I’ve seen enough burly men’s arse cracks to last me a lifetime!” He ran his hands through the hot sand and wiggled them in front of my face. “I hate stuffy offices. I like to get my hands dirty.”

  God, he was so amazing. It felt like we’d known each other all our lives. I really wanted to get to know him better; the thought of him living so far away didn’t bother me one bit. “So what do you do when you aren’t working? What do you do for fun?”

  “Well, work is weird. Like I said, in England, it rains a lot, so we have to work long days when the weather’s good. Then, we try to work inside when it’s raining, which is too often for my liking. Occasionally, we have to
take time off because of really bad weather, then my best friend and I go down to our local pub and shoot pool.”

  He looked at me with those eyes again and I could feel my insides melt. “So you just kind of hang out? Do you — uhm — have a girlfriend over there?” I hesitated to ask, but I had to know.

  He shook his head and replied, “No, no girlfriend. You? — I mean boyfriend, obviously.”

  “No, not any more. I had one for a while but he did some things and it’s over, been over for a long time.” The vision of Brad with his dick in Helena’s mouth flashed across my mind and I felt a twinge of fury creep up in me. “Let’s not talk about that right now. You wanna go for a swim?”

  “Sure! Okay.” He stood up and reached out his hand to help me up.

  When his fingertips touched mine, tingles went all the way up my arm and through my body. “My! What a gentleman; must be that posh English upbringing.” I blushed, hoping he didn’t notice the effect he had on me. “I have to tell you though, the water is freezing cold!”

  He pulled me closer to him. I shivered as he said teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows, “Maybe someone can warm me up afterwards?”

  “Aren’t you a little fresh?” I pulled away and quickly slid my dress over my head. I threw it in the bag and started running toward the shore. “Race you there! First one in is a rotten egg!”

  I felt him coming up behind me and as he passed me, he turned, smiled, and ran straight into the water. I had to laugh when he grabbed his junk and I heard him yell, “Ahhh! It’s freezing! Shit!”

  I ran to him, telling him, “I told you! You gotta jump in quick!” in a half pant, half yell. The water was cold, and I was sure my nipples were going to show through my brand-new bathing suit. I should have rethought what I was wearing, but maybe the white polka dots on this emerald green suit would hide it. I just really liked the way it hid my tummy, and the princess neckline showed off the tatas.

  I ran further into the water with him. He started splashing water on his legs, probably trying to numb the rest of his body, and he drenched me in the process, so I splashed him back. Bad idea. We tumbled into the surf, the waves taking us under, and when I came back up, he was nowhere in sight. “Tristan! Tristan!” Just as I turned around to call his name again he came up from under the waves and grabbed me. I let out a loud screech and screamed as we both fell over, back into the sea again, only this time he was holding onto me. I could feel his six-pack in my hands. He had goose bumps; I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold water or me. But I hoped it was me.