“You’re wrong,” she whispered. “You couldn’t be more wrong.” She spoke the rebuttal succinctly, but her tone was off, making me wonder what her words really meant.
“How do you figure that?” I turned. The raw emotion in her expression seemed to reflect my own. The glassy sheen in her eyes gave me pause, but I powered through my reaction to soothe her and said what needed to be said. “When it’s like this.” I gestured back and forth between us. I wanted her so badly my hands were shaking. Three fucking years and not a thing had changed. “When I touch you, your pulse races beneath my fingertips. When I glide my hands over your curves, I can feel you shudder. When I hold you, you arch your body into mine. Your mind might be thinking one thing, but those reactions say something else.” She twisted her hands together, cheeks blooming pink beneath her golden tan. “Do you seriously expect me to ignore all those cues?” How could I when she was at the center of every fantasy? “You have no clue the number of inappropriate thoughts going through my mind right now. If you did, you wouldn’t want me anywhere near you.”
Her expressive eyes grew large. Antique gold in color, several shades darker than her blonde hair, they opened into the soul of a woman I found impossible to resist.
“Don’t look at me as if you don’t know what I’m talking about.” I might not have put into words exactly how I had felt back then, but she knew. The attraction between us was undeniable. I had sent her away once because of it, and it had nearly ruined me. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” My tone was sharp. I had never liked the idea that maybe the feelings on her side weren’t as strong as mine when my desire for her was like a summer wildfire.
“You know I haven’t,” she whispered. “I remember it all. I remember every single conversation, every confidence we shared. The support we gave each other. You were my best friend, even more than you were his before the end.” Her eyes swam in hurt and confusion, shadows darkening the hue from antique gold to burnished bronze. “But when I needed you most, you abandoned me. How could you do that? After you promised you would always be there for me?”
“I couldn’t stay afterward. You know why.” My expression masked the turmoil inside of me. Discovering my absence back then had caused her pain rather than relief was an unexpected revelation.
“No, I don’t know,” she fired right back. “Not really. I made up excuses for you, mostly to make myself feel better. I was so empty after Dominic died. So devastated when…” She crumpled. The burden of what she didn’t say, what she had lost, seemed to break her in two, right down the center of her slender but resilient frame. She lifted her chin. Arms stiffened at her sides. Fingers curled into her palms. A single tear escaped, sliding down her sun kissed cheek and disappearing into her braided hair. “You never came to the hospital.” Her expression battered me like the turbulent surf I had watched her tirelessly attempt to tame on many a stormy day. “You never came to the apartment like everyone else did after the funeral. I want you to tell me why.”
Actually, I had been at the hospital. I had arrived in time to overhear Karen’s words to Simone. Words I had tried to outrun. Culpability I couldn’t escape. Truth that had obliterated the secret hope I had nurtured for us. I didn’t see any reason to retrace those steps. They always led to the same dead end. “Do you really want to revisit the past, Karen? Isn’t it healthier to let things be? To move forward the best we can? There’s no remedy to reverse time. Nothing can change what’s already happened.”
“Would you change it if you could?” she whispered softly.
“Hell, yes.” So many wrongs I would make right.
“All of it?” she asked, leveling me with a vulnerable look. “Even the parts between you and me?”
I nodded. Why was she insisting on that clarification? Why resurrect everything? Of course I would change what happened between us. If only I had acted differently from the beginning or wised up sooner. But it was too late now. She would never accept me. My admission seemed to make her disintegrate. I moved toward her. Picking her up when she fell to pieces was a habit I couldn’t seem to break.
“Don’t.” She lifted her hands and waved them in front of her body as if my comfort were suddenly a danger to be warded off. “I asked. You answered…truthfully. Thank you for your honesty.” She gave me a smile that wobbled. “It’s just that sometimes the truth stings a bit.”
“Yes it does,” I agreed, though the truth from her lips all those years ago had done much more than that. It had buried a dream. Patch wasn’t the only one who had been laid to rest. A big part of me, the better half, who I was when I was with her, had died, too. The old guilt resurfacing, I shifted on my feet. I raked my fingers through my hair, staring at her and trying to summon the will to end things between us for good. But I had banished myself once from her after the funeral. Considering what she had said to Simone, I had assumed that had been the way she had wanted it. But doing it had felt like I had severed a part of my soul. Seeing her again, holding her in my arms, I knew I couldn’t do it a second time.
Chapter Four
* * *
Karen
“I assume you stopped by the shop for a reason.” I tucked a couple of loose strands of hair behind my ears and pasted on what I hoped was a neutral expression. Inside, I felt brittle. The cenotaph I had constructed to the past was as tenuous as a sandcastle built too close to the incoming tide. I tried to convince myself that it was better this way. Better to know the truth. Best to accept that I had been a burden he had been relieved to be rid of. “Were you looking for Simone?” Salt stung my eyes. Bitterness burned my throat. Time couldn’t heal my wounds. It only periodically pulled at their edges. “Or were you looking to buy something?” I buried the new hurt deep and ducked behind the Tiki hut styled cashier’s desk. I needed a buffer between us.
His gaze searching, a shadow darkened Ramon’s eyes as he stared at me, but it was fleeting. There for a moment, then gone, like a cloud passing in front of the sun. “I broke a leash. I need to replace it.” His voice was gentle now. Could he sense how easily I could shatter? “I came by yesterday, but you were already closed.”
“Sorry. I locked the door a couple of minutes early.” It had been a slow day, just like today, and I had wanted to spend more time with my dad. He had been pretty clear lately, and I didn’t want to miss any more of those good days than I absolutely had to. Even for Simone. Even for the shop that I l had always loved.
“No worries. I’m glad you’re here right now,” he stated enigmatically, his gaze steady. Did he mean more with that statement? I wanted to believe he was pleased that I had returned to Ocean Beach. But after his candor a moment earlier, I feared that much of what I thought I perceived about him was only projection.
“I’m glad to be back,” I offered, holding his gaze. “I missed OB.” Missed my mom and dad. My friends. The surf. Him. Him. Always him.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Simone is well meaning, but she doesn’t understand the ins and outs of surfing the way you do.” He gave me a tentative smile, a slight curve to the edges of his mouth that put crinkles around his eyes and made my heart beat faster inside my chest.
“Thanks.” I stepped out from behind the counter. “I’d be happy to help you.” Happy to take whatever parts of him he would allow me to have. If surf advisor was all he wanted, surf advisor I would be. I gestured toward the back of the shop. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you what we have got.” Tripped up by the inner voice of experience that rightly warned me that a little of Ramon would never be enough, I nearly toppled a carousel of sunglasses as I headed in the direction of the leashes.
“How much do you want to spend?” I was breathless, not from exertion, but because that was the effect he always had on me. I swept an arm wide. “We have Dakine, Modom, Channel Islands, Pro-Lite and OAM.” He moved behind me. The wall of his solid chest pressed into my back. My breath catching, I dropped my arm to my side.
“Hmm,” he mused indecisively, seemingly unconcern
ed about what close proximity with him did to me. My caught breath began to burn inside my lungs. I could count every beat of my heart as he took his time to consider. Beneath the strapless top, my nipples puckered as if he were circling a whisper soft touch around them. What would I give to be the type of woman to entice him? He leaned closer. The muscular contours of his chest were appealingly hard against my shoulder blades. I could feel the heat of his skin through the flimsy fabric of my blouse and the cotton of his. Apparently, he wanted a closer look at the leashes which hung from pegs on the wall in front of us. I hoped that was all that drew his attention. If he turned his head and looked into my eyes, he would read the longing in them. If he glanced at my mouth, he would see that my lips were parted and that I was practically panting for air. If he noticed the pulse point in my neck, he would know that my heart was pounding furiously. If he turned my body toward his, he would see the rosy outline of my nipples. They were drawn tight. The rayon chaffed the tips that ached for his touch. I couldn’t control my response to him. I never had been able to. My body always betrayed me.
I turned my head, peering through my lashes at the compelling profile of the man whose spirit called to mine as strongly as the ocean. One of his silky curls brushed my cheek. Only an insignificant inch separated his from mine. I imagined running my fingers freely through the thickness of his hair. I imagined a kiss, a deep one. His rough stubble abrading my skin. The wet stroke of his skillful tongue. The sensual heat of his firm lips. A needful moan escaped, but he seemed unaware of it. I hissed an internal command at my mutinous body, demanding that it behave, but it wasn’t interested in being compliant. Quite the opposite. It wanted to be bad, so very bad with him.
“Which would you choose?” His voice was flint, a perfect spark to light my complicit flame.
“Choose what?” My brain was a smoky haze. I leaned backward laying my head on his strong shoulder…just for a moment…the fall had taken so much out of me. He made a low agreeable sound as though maybe he liked having me right where I was. I felt his speculative gaze on me. “Oh, the leashes,” I remembered, scrambling for clarity but keeping my eyes straight ahead. “Are you still using a 5-foot, 10-inch board?” I whispered.
“Yeah.” His warm breath stirred the sensitive skin near my nape. “I’m a big guy,” he stated in his seductive baritone. “I need a big board.”
“Ok.” A pleasurable shiver rolled through me he would have to be blind not to notice. And Ramon was many things, but his powers of observation when it came to me had rarely been lacking. In my peripheral vision, I could see that the corners of his mouth were lifted. It used to amuse him how flustered I got whenever he flirted with me, though I had always secretly loved it. “You doing a lot of moves with it? In the deep water?” I asked, risking a full side glance at him. Our gazes locked. His was dark and glittering with something more significant than amusement. Captivated, I held my breath.
“I like trying new tricks.” He arched a raven hued brow. “When I’m in there deep.”
Oh, the images that came to my mind. “You doing it near the pier?” My voice was husky. I shifted with the intention of molding my body to his. His sandalwood and oak moss scent intoxicated me.
“Doing what, surfer girl?” His accent was compellingly thick.
“Surfing.” My cheeks grew warm. “Do you go in and out…underneath the pier I mean?”
“Oh, yeah. I like that a lot.” I could hear the tease in his tone.
“Then I’d go with the Pro-Lite.” I drew in a ragged breath. “The nine foot. Any longer and you might get the cord tangled in the pilings.”
“Fair enough.” He reached over my shoulder and snagged the leash. His rock-solid chest pressed deeper into my back. His powerful thighs cradled my rear. I could feel his very hard, very impressive erection right in the cleft of my ass. Apparently, he wasn’t wearing anything beneath those Volcom board shorts. Tension thickened the air. He went statue-still. This suddenly didn’t feel like harmless flirting anymore.
“Karen.” He groaned my name.
Shit. Had I rocked myself over him? My body felt hot and so desperately needy.
“You need to move away or I’m going to show you exactly how deep I really like it.”
I stepped to the side and scurried to the other side of the shop.
You’re doing it again, I chastised myself as I took refuge behind the counter once more. Playing with fire, setting yourself up for a good scorching. I lifted my gaze risking a glance at him. His eyes full of heat, he watched me back. Several long moments passed. I wished I had the ability to rewind time. I wished the past wasn’t immutable as the sea. I wished he was serious and not just fooling around to fluster me.
I attempted a lame joke. “I’m guessing the leash isn’t the only thing in the nine range.” I dipped my gaze, but my attempt to dispel the tension backfired. I could clearly see the outline of his cock. It seemed to lengthen as I stared. Flustered flashed to furious flame. A molten need throbbed at the juncture of my thighs.
My flushed cheeks and my glazed eyes told him everything I needed to hide. All of what I felt. All of what I wanted. All of what he did to me. His lips curled with masculine satisfaction. He crooked a finger.
“You wanna have a closer look?”
“Nope. Not interested,” I huffed the lie, recognizing that I was at the limits of what I could take of his teasing without crossing the line. Avoiding his eyes, I tossed my French braid over my shoulder while inwardly scrambling for equilibrium and non-sexual thoughts. “Why don’t you go ahead and pay for your leash so I can close out the register and go home.”
“Sure.” Grin widening, he prowled over. My heart stumbled. His smooth swagger and his sexy smile formed a potent combo. “Eyes up top, surfer girl,” he chastened.
“Ass,” I returned breathily, clumsy and slow ringing up the sale. He slid his credit card across the desk. I swiped it and returned it to him along with his receipt. I stared longingly at his glossy head of dark curls fingers tingling with the urge to touch them as he scrawled his signature on the slip. The obsidian strands seemed to absorb the light from the overheads while the width of his shoulders nearly eclipsed them.
“Why don’t you come grab a bite with me?” His expression was casual as he lifted his head and regarded me. He separated the yellow copy from the original and passed it to me.
“I don’t know.” I wasn’t doing well pretending he didn’t affect me. I stapled the receipt to the itemized bill and put it in the drawer. I had never been good at the game of subterfuge. If I spent any more time with him, it wouldn’t take him very long to figure out how desperately I wanted to make a reality of those things he was only flirting about.
“C’mon,” he cajoled. “I’m checking out a local band. A couple of the band members are friends with Simone…”
“Free Wave,” I guessed, frowning when my stomach decided to grumble.
He nodded. “They’re performing at the Deck Bar. We can walk over together. Sounds like you need something to eat. And you and me,” he paused, and his gaze flickered like candles lit by promises yet to be fulfilled. “Surely if we put our heads together, we can figure out how to be friends again.”
Chapter Five
* * *
Ramon
“No, thank you,” I told the overly eager Deck Bar waitress when she asked me yet again if I wanted another beer and slipped me a fresh coaster with her phone number on it. She had recognized me the moment Karen and I had come in. She had that star struck look on her face, but I wasn’t interested in calling her later. I wasn’t interested in anything or anyone else right now except for the woman sitting across the pub table from me.
“Don’t deprive yourself on my account.” Karen slid her gaze from the waitress to the half empty mug of Longfin Lager on the table. I knew she could see the phone number on the coaster. The waitress hadn’t been very discreet.
“I’m not having another beer because I don’t want to be buzzed and miss o
ut on the rare chance to enjoy your company.” I hit her with a pointed look. Something like understanding glittered in her eyes, but I don’t think she really got my meaning. In a lot of ways we knew each other very well, but in so many others being together like this was unsteady ground. “Drinking to excess is a rare exception these days rather than the rule,” I clarified. “And I’m a helluva lot more particular about who I take home with me. My life’s changed a lot. Yours has, too, I imagine.” Her eyes shimmered in response to my words. I covered her hand where it rested beside her plate. Her fingers felt delicate, her skin cold. Her gaze dropped to where our hands were joined before she lifted it to mine where it held. Where I wished it could always be. I could look into those eyes for hours. In fact, I practically had. We were finishing dessert. She had demolished the chocolate lava cake we had ordered to share. I hadn’t even bothered picking up my spoon. I knew how she was about chocolate. I didn’t feel deprived. I felt fortunate as fuck that she was here with me. I had enjoyed watching her eat. It had turned me on how she had closed her eyes and moaned at the first bite, and I had remained entranced as she had savored each one that had followed. The only part I hadn’t liked so far about our meal together was how evasive she had been about the last three years. I tried again. “You said you quit your job at Roxy, but you didn’t say why.”
“They had me traveling a lot.” She paused with a spoon of leftover chocolate glaze halfway to her mouth. She carefully set it down on the plate. “It was what I wanted after Dominic and…” She looked away seeming to lose her train of thought. “It was better when I was busy,” she whispered. “Better when I was away from the apartment.” Her voice was distant, and her expression grew troubled as she stared out the window. The Deck Bar’s wooden shutters were open. The ocean breeze made the interior of the place almost chilly. And I knew it wasn’t the churning tide, but her own thoughts that troubled Karen. His loss was the one we shared, one that I feared neither of us would ever fully recover from. “In the end, it didn’t really help. The ghosts were always there waiting for me. At first, I told myself it was just one glass of wine to help me sleep. Then it became two.” She made a self-deprecating noise. Her eyes refocused on mine, her expression despondent. “Drinking for me was the rule. Not being drunk was the exception.”
(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5) Page 31