Читать книгу Wild Child - Cindi Myers - Страница 7

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THE COOL firmness of sand between her toes, the smell of salt and suntan oil, the thunder of waves and the shrill cries of seagulls transported Sara to her girlhood. Walking alongside Drew, she felt that same sense of possibility to the afternoon—that wonderful anticipation she’d come to Malibu to rediscover. With a surfboard tucked under one arm, he even looked like the idols of her youth. Anything could happen as long as the sun shone and her companion kept smiling at her.

She glanced at him and he winked. Now she really felt like a girl again; it was all she could do not to giggle. She was glad she’d agreed to come with him. He was easy to be with, and he’d given her the perfect excuse to get away, though her phone was in the beach bag she’d grabbed to bring along.

Whether she could go through with her original plan to seduce this hottie was debatable. Her seduction skills were definitely rusty.

Ellie would probably say that was all the more reason for her to practice.

They passed a carnival laid out on the sand—Ferris wheel, arcade games, a stage and volleyball nets. A man in a lime-green turban and a Hawaiian shirt stood at a booth near a sign that read Magellan the All-Knowing. “What’s all this?” Sara asked.

“It’s all part of the big Sin on the Beach party.” Drew raised one eyebrow. “I figured that was what brought you here this week.”

She shrugged. “My friends said something about it, but I never realized it was so…elaborate.”

He nodded. “They’re hosting a week-long bash—games, dancing, contests, prizes. It’s bigger than spring break.”

A week-long bash? “Guess we lucked out.” She grinned at him. Talk about the perfect setting for a wild fling.

“My shop is just a little ways up the beach,” Drew said. “My grandparents started it almost forty years ago.”

“It’s hard to imagine having a grandfather who surfs,” she said. “It seems like such a hip, young thing to do.” Her own mother—like her father before he’d died—was a serious, hard-working person. Even after they’d moved to L.A., her mom had never acclimated to the west-coast lifestyle. She complained that the sun shone too much.

“Grandpa Gus definitely isn’t an old fogey,” Drew said. “If anything, he acts too young. He forgets he can’t do everything he could as a young man and it gets him into trouble.”

“And you worry about him,” she said.

He gave her a sharp look. “Does it show that much?”

“Not really. But I can relate. I’m the same way with my Uncle Spence. He’s younger than your grandfather, but he works so hard. He never lets himself relax, and he worries about everything. He depends on me a lot to help with his business and I hate to let him down.”

Drew nodded. “I love Grandpa, and I don’t really mind, but sometimes…” His voice trailed away.

“Yeah, sometimes.” She knew exactly how Drew felt. Could it be she wasn’t the only young adult in the world with too many responsibilities and too much guilt?

“Would you like to see the shop?” Drew asked. “Then maybe we could do something together.”

She could think of any number of things she would like to do with him—some of which involved wearing no clothes. Obviously her libido was taking the idea of a no-holds-barred vacation seriously. But even the more sensible part of her liked the idea of getting to know this man better. “That would be great,” she said.

Like a bad-tempered chaperone determined to cramp her style, her phone started vibrating, rattling against the keys in the bottom of her bag.

“What is that?” Drew asked.

“Nothing.” She groped in her bag, trying to locate the off button for the phone, but only succeeded in getting the strap wrapped around her sunglasses case.

“Seriously, what’s that buzzing noise?” Drew moved closer. “Do you have something in there?”

“No, really, it’s fine.” If she broke off yet another conversation with him to take a call, he was going to think she was a complete workaholic.

He stepped back, grinning. “I’ve heard about those things, but I never knew a woman who carried one with her to the beach.”

“It’s not… You don’t think—” Her face probably came close to matching the color of her swimsuit. She jerked the cell out of her bag. “It’s a phone!”

He laughed. “Hey, did I say it wasn’t?” He shook his head. “Go ahead and answer it. Maybe it’s your roommate again.”

She should be so lucky. She checked the caller ID. “No, it’s my uncle.”

“Then you’d better answer it.”

“Yeah, guess I’d better.” She flipped open the phone as she moved a few steps away.

“Sara, why haven’t you called the title company?” With those words, Uncle Spence made her magical mood vanish.

The title company! She groaned. “I’m sorry. I got busy and it slipped my mind. I’ll call in the morning.”

“You need to call now. Granger’s been asking me about the closing.” She pictured him standing in the clubhouse, sweat pouring down his red face, working himself into a lather over his imagined failure to make a good impression on his top client. “We’re having dinner later and I’d like to be able to tell him something specific,” he said.

“Just tell Mr. Granger that everything’s on schedule and he doesn’t need to worry.”

“Do you have that flow chart you made up that shows the closing process and everything that happens?”

“Ye-es.” She glanced at Drew. He was leaning on his board, looking out at the ocean. She hoped he wasn’t getting impatient.

“I’ll give you a number to fax it to,” Spence said. “I’ll give it to Granger at dinner. He’s wild for any kind of chart or graph.”

“I don’t have a fax machine right here.”

“Then e-mail it to the office. I’ll have Tabitha print it out and fax it.”

Drew glanced over at her. She waved. “Uncle Spence, can’t this wait?” she asked. “I’m really busy with something else right now.”

“How long will it take you to e-mail that chart? And one call to the title company isn’t so much to ask.” He sighed, sounding sad. “I’m really counting on you, Sara. It’s not like you to let me down.”

Every word was like another bucketful of sand being poured over her, burying her in guilt. She swallowed hard. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

She hung up. So much for a carefree afternoon of romance. “Is something wrong?” Drew returned to her side. “You look upset.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she said. She replaced the phone in her bag, avoiding his eyes. “Something’s come up at the office…I’m sorry.”

“You can’t let someone else take care of it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I’d better go.”

She could feel his gaze on her, intense and probing, and disappointment dragged at her. He was such a great guy. They could have had fun together…. She shook her head. “It was great meeting you,” she said. Lame words, full of regret for what might have been.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” Except she’d be too mortified to go anywhere near him again.

Surfboard tucked under his arm, he strode across the sand. She watched him go, suppressing a sigh. Drew was just too perfect. She’d blown it. Lost her chance. She was doomed to a life chained to her computer.

HALF AN HOUR later, Sara had just finished e-mailing the flow chart to Uncle Spence and was debating opening a bottle of wine for her own private pity party when Ellie ran into the beach house. She skidded to a stop and her smile vanished when she saw Sara hunched over the computer. “Hey, what are you doing still working?” she said. “You promised to put that thing away.”

“I did put it away,” Sara said, shutting the lid to the laptop and turning to her friend. “I even went for a walk on the beach.”

“That’s more like it.” Ellie dropped onto the sofa. “So…did you meet any hot guys?”

Sara felt her face warm. “There was this one surfer….”

“I knew it!” Ellie leaned forward, hands between her knees. “What happened? Did you talk to him? Did he think you were hot? Did you tell him you needed someone to help you relax? Did you suggest going somewhere and having wild monkey sex?”

Sara laughed at the onslaught of questions. Leave it to Ellie to put her in a better mood. “I talked to him,” she said. “His name is Drew, and he runs a local surf shop.”

“Drew.” Ellie tried the name on her tongue. “Mmm. And is Drew dreamy? Or delicious?” She smiled wickedly.

Heat curled through Sara at the memory of Drew’s bronzed muscles and killer smile. “Both. And he was really nice, too.”

“Then what are you doing sitting around here by yourself?”

Gloom engulfed Sara once more. “Everything was going great, then Uncle Spence called.”

“Sara!” Ellie clenched her hands. “Why did you answer the phone?”

“I wasn’t going to,” Sara said. “But Drew told me I should.” She winced at the memory. He had been so considerate. So understanding.

“What did Spence want?” Ellie asked.

“He wanted some information for a client he’s having dinner with tonight.”

“Then he should have gotten it himself,” Ellie said. “You should have told him so.”

Sara nodded. “I know. I tell myself I’m going to stand up to him, but whenever I balk at what he wants, he plays the guilt card.” She shrugged. “It’s easier just to do the work and not have to deal with the guilt.”

Ellie patted Sara’s hand. “I know, hon. Spence depends on you for so much. Too much. And you have a soft heart.”

And a soft head, Sara thought.

“So you came back here to get the information for Uncle Spence,” Ellie said. “You should’ve invited surfer boy back with you.”

Sara raised her head. “I never even thought of that. After Uncle Spence’s call it seemed like the mood had been destroyed.”

“Do you think Drew was angry about what happened?” Ellie asked.

“No. He was really nice about it. I just felt bad.” She’d wanted a hole in the sand to open up and swallow her. What woman in her right mind would forsake a gorgeous guy in favor of more work?

Ellie sat back, her expression thoughtful. “You say he runs a surf shop?”

Sara nodded. “It’s called the Surf Shack. His grandfather owns it.”

Ellie grinned. “That’s perfect.” She snatched the Sin on the Beach flyer from the coffee table. “There’s a surfing competition as part of the festival. You used to surf, right?”

“I hung out with surfers, but I never learned myself.” Back then her focus had been more on the hot guys and the beach-bunny lifestyle than on surfing itself. Now she wished she had taken advantage of the opportunity to learn. “That was a long time ago.”

“Then it’s time you learned how.” Ellie handed her the flyer. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll go down to the Surf Shack and sign up for the tournament. And you’ll tell Drew you want a private lesson from him.”

Ellie made things sound so simple. “What if he says no?” Sara asked.

“You wear that orange bikini and a big smile and I guarantee he won’t say no.” She patted Sara’s hand again. “Come on. A woman who can handle million-dollar real estate transactions ought to be able to persuade a guy she likes to spend time with her.”

Sara nodded, still unsure, but she was determined to overcome her doubts. She was tired of being a bystander in life, and never a participant. If she didn’t do something, she was going to waste the best years of her life working all the time and end up alone. “Okay,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll do it. But let’s not talk about it anymore.” She didn’t want to risk talking herself right out of this crazy idea. “I want to hear what you did today. How did it go with Matt and Candy?”

“When I left the two of them Candy was playing nose-to-the-grindstone—going on about work and some computer presentation and needing his input. Matt was looking as if he didn’t know what hit him.” Ellie grinned. “If Candy would only open her eyes and really look at my brother, she’d realize how crazy he is about her. I mean, come on—she’s every red-blooded man’s dream babe. But she’s so convinced he sees her as an airhead. She can’t believe he might be interested.”

And Ellie obviously couldn’t see that she might be a little prejudiced in her brother’s favor. “Matt is a great guy,” Sara said. “And of course you love him. But maybe he’s too serious for a woman like Candy. The girl does like to party.”

Ellie shook her head. “I have a sense for these kinds of things. I have a feeling this vacation is going to be very good for Matt and Candy.”

It was just like Ellie to always be worrying about others’ problems. She’d turned her coffee shop, Dark Gothic Roast, into therapy central for their office complex. But what did Ellie want? “What did you do after you left Candy and Matt?” Sara asked.

“I walked along the beach and checked out all the stuff set up for the festival. There’s a huge carnival, all kinds of games and attractions and the film set where they’re going to be taping a special episode of the show.” She squirmed and glanced at Sara out of the corner of her eye. “They’re even going to be auditioning for extras tomorrow morning.”

“That’s awesome,” Sara said. “You should try out.” She didn’t know anyone who was a bigger fan of Sin on the Beach than Ellie, and though she probably would never have admitted it, Sara sensed an inner diva in her friend dying to get out.

“Oh, I could never do that,” Ellie protested. She glanced down at her black shorts and shirt. “I don’t exactly have the Sin on the Beach style they’re looking for.”

“So we give you the style,” Sara said. “You’ve got a gorgeous figure. You’re young and hip. All you need is to lighten your hair a little, add a little color to your wardrobe and voila! Instant beach babe.”

Ellie looked doubtful. “I don’t know….”

“You know you want to do this,” Sara said.

“Yes, but… There is one other problem.”

“What is it?”

“I know the director.”

“That’s great!” She studied Ellie’s pained expression. “Isn’t it?”

Ellie shrugged. “His name’s Bill. We were next-door neighbors when I was a kid. I doubt if he even remembers me.”

Something in Ellie’s expression helped Sara read between the lines. “But you remember him,” she said.

Ellie nodded. “I had a huge crush on him back then.” She paused, then added, “When I saw him today, it was as if nothing had changed.” She smiled. “He is so hot, and he has this awesome tattoo.”

Sara laughed. Ellie had a thing for guys with tattoos. “This gets better and better,” she said.

“What do you mean better?” Ellie said. “I can’t think of anything worse than blowing it in front of my old crush.”

“Who says you’re going to blow it?” Sara said. “And I’m not so convinced he doesn’t remember you. You’re not exactly an easy woman to forget.”

“I was just a kid,” Ellie said. “Nothing like I am now.”

“All the more reason to show him how grown-up you are,” Sara said. “Think about it. Candy and Matt are bound to end up with something going on this trip. You’ve convinced me to see how far I can get with Drew. Now you need to go forward with Bill.”

Ellie grinned. “When you put it that way… I mean, I wouldn’t want to let the two of you down.”

“That’s the spirit. If I can work up the nerve to sign up for surfing lessons, then you can find the courage to go to that audition.”

Their eyes met and Ellie nodded. “Okay, it’s a deal.”

They clasped hands. “Beach babes unite,” Sara said.

“The men won’t know what hit them,” Ellie echoed. “This is going to be the best vacation ever.”

DREW COUNTED the last of the change in the register and shut the drawer with a bang. Time to start another day in the salt mines. Of course, running a surf shop wasn’t the same as hard labor, but it wasn’t the carefree surfing lifestyle he’d once enjoyed. His conversation with Sara yesterday afternoon had reminded him how much was missing in his life.

And in hers, too, by the sound of things. Too bad she’d had to leave when she did. Of course, he knew where to find her, but maybe it was better to end things before they started. For all they had in common, neither one of them seemed to have room in their lives for a relationship.

“What are you so glum about?” Gus spoke from his customary place on a stool at the end of the front counter. Dressed in red board shorts and a worn T-shirt that proclaimed Surfers Stay on Longer, Gus still wore the long sideburns and handlebar mustache that had been his trademark in his surfing days, though his hair was now white instead of blond. Seventy years and two heart attacks had hardly slowed him down. If anything, Gus seemed more determined than ever to go at life full tilt.

Between the stress of managing a booming business and worries about Gus overdoing it, it was a wonder Drew slept at all. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all,” he said.

“You’re too young to be such a sad sack,” Gus said. “You need to get out and have some fun.” He picked up a bright-orange flyer from a stack at the end of the counter. “This Sin on the Beach festival has all kinds of things you could get involved in.” He took a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket and put them on, then read from the flyer. “There’s limbo dancing, a pool tournament, volleyball, body painting—hmm, now that sounds interesting. Oh, and look—surfing.” He grinned at Drew over the edge of the paper. “It says here the surfing competition is sponsored by Beach Babe Bronzer and the Surf Shack. Guess that means you’re disqualified from entering.”

“Guess so,” Drew said. He’d signed up months ago to sponsor the contest, thinking it would be good publicity. Everyone who wanted to enter the competition had to sign up in person at the Surf Shack, and he was offering special deals on equipment rental and lessons.

“Just as well.” Gus laid aside the paper and took off his glasses. “I hear the judge for the contest is really tough. Some former surfing champion or something.”

“Is that right?” Drew grinned. “I hear he’s just some old geezer.”

Gus joined in Drew’s laughter. “I may be old, but I can still out-surf three quarters of the young dudes on this beach,” he said.

“Maybe so.” Drew’s expression sobered. “But you don’t have to prove anything to them. Remember what the doctor said.”

“Doctors!” Gus’s voice was filled with scorn. “They may know a lot about medicine, but what do they know about living? The only reason I’m in as good a shape as I am at my age is because I’ve stayed active. How many of those doctors do you think could hang ten on a monster curl? I could do it with my eyes closed.”

Drew knew the old man was telling the truth. Back in the day, Gus Jamison had been a three-time world surfing champion. Two generations of surfers had learned to shred waves under his tutelage. But his heart attacks had ended all that—if only Drew could get his grandfather to accept it.

He picked up the clipboard that held the entry forms for the surfing competition and ruffled through the papers. “You’re not going to have time for surfing anyway,” he said. “I expect we’re going to be really busy during this festival. I’ll need your help here in the shop.”

“Sure, I’ll help out as much as I can,” Gus said. “But I’m going to be spending some time down at the Sin on the Beach set.”

Drew had a good idea why his grandfather might be attracted to the television production. Gus might be seventy, but he still had an appreciation for pretty women in bikinis. “What business do you have down there?” Drew asked. “Are you hoping one of those actresses will need help with her wardrobe?”

Gus sat up straighter. “For your information, I’ve been hired for a role in the series.”

All the breath rushed out of Drew and he stared at his grandfather. “What?”

“Some producer from the show came in here yesterday afternoon while you were out. He was looking for props to use on the set. We got to talking and the next thing I knew he asked if I’d be interested in a small part in the episode they’re filming.” Gus stroked his mustache. “I guess he recognized star quality when he saw it.”

Drew shook his head. “Grandpa, you never cease to amaze me.”

“It’s called charisma, boy. I like to think I passed some of it on to you.” He arched one eyebrow. “I understand the show is auditioning for extras this morning. Maybe you ought to go down there and try out.”

“I think one star in the family is enough,” Drew said. “Besides, somebody has to stay here and run the shop.”

“You worry too much about this business,” Gus said. “It’s a surf shop, not IBM. Cooter can keep an eye on things if we’re not here.”

Drew nodded. The Surf Shack’s sole employee, Cooter Dixon, was an affable beach bum who knew almost as much about surfing as Drew and Gus. He was capable enough, but it wasn’t the same as having one of the shop’s owners behind the front counter.

“I want you to get out there and have some fun for a change,” Gus said. He picked up a flier and perched his glasses on his nose once more. “It says here, participants can earn points and a chance to win a beach house.”

“I already have a beach house,” Drew said. “Why would I need another one?”

Gus scowled at him. “Do I have to teach you everything? Find some sexy beach bunny and offer to help her win points toward the beach house.”

An image of Sara wearing that hot bikini popped into Drew’s mind. He wouldn’t mind some fun and games with her. Then his daydream morphed as a cell phone appeared in Sara’s hand. He frowned. It figured that the first woman he’d been really attracted to in ages was even more distracted by work and responsibility than he was.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Gus said.

Drew eyed his grandfather warily. “What kind of deal?”

“You sign up to participate in some of these festival activities and I promise to behave myself and take it easy.”

“When have you ever behaved yourself?” Drew said.

Gus grinned. “They say even an old dog can learn new tricks.”

“Let me see that flyer.” He held out his hand and Gus passed him one of the brightly colored sheets of paper. He scanned the list of activities at the bottom. He had to admit some of them sounded like fun. It had been a long time—almost the entire two years he’d run the shop—since he’d cut loose. It might do him good to relax a little. And if he could convince a certain babe in an orange bikini to relax with him… He grinned. Then Gus might not be the only ladies’ man in the family.