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SARA CLUTCHED her beach bag more tightly to her side and fought the urge to turn around. Ellie had kept her part of their bargain and headed out bright and early this morning to the auditions for Sin on the Beach. After her makeover she’d looked fantastic—a little softer, but still sexy and just edgy enough to heat any man’s blood. Unless this Bill guy was blind or gay, he wasn’t going to be able to resist Ellie’s combination of sex and savvy.

Now it was Sara’s turn to master her nerves and sign up for the surfing tournament—and finagle a private lesson from Drew. She’d resolutely switched off her phone after sending an e-mail to Uncle Spence letting him know she’d be out of touch all day.

She did have her phone with her, strictly for emergencies, but it would stay in her bag and off unless absolutely necessary.

A leisurely walk down the beach from her bungalow brought her to the Surf Shack. The weathered building was perched on pilings just beyond the pier, with steps leading up to a broad front porch. Sara stood out front for a moment, gathering her courage.

“Come on up, young lady.” A stocky, white-haired man with a thick moustache, dressed in board shorts and a T-shirt came out onto the porch and beckoned to her. “Whatever it is you need, I can fix you right up.”

She smiled and started up the steps. “Are you Gus?” she asked.

“I see my reputation precedes me.” His grin broadened and he took her hand. “And what’s your name?”

“Sara.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sara.” His gaze swept over her appreciatively. “A pleasure indeed. Are you a surfer?”

She shook her head. “No. But I’d like to be.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place.” He started to lead her inside, then stopped and looked back at her. “Are you dating a surfer? Or anyone else?”

Amused by this odd line of questioning, she shook her head. “No.”

“Perfect. Come inside. I want you to meet someone.”

She allowed him to lead her inside, where Drew was busy at the front counter with a customer. He looked every bit as gorgeous this morning as she remembered—sun-bleached hair falling over his forehead, a faded T-shirt stretched across strong shoulders.

Not wanting to be caught staring at him, she looked around the shop. The place was packed with stacks of yellow and green life jackets, kneeboards, surfboards, shelves of sunblock, T-shirts, board shorts and surfing accessories. A giant plastic shark grinned from the wall above the cash register and a poster next to it advertised the Original Sex Wax.

The wall next to the door was devoted to photographs. Sara recognized a younger Gus—with blond hair—posing with a surfboard and a three-foot-tall gold trophy. In another photo, Gus stood with a younger couple and a little boy—Drew? She smiled and found the boy at various ages in other photos. High in one corner she found a more recent picture of Drew and his grandfather behind the counter at the Surf Shack.

Gus cleared his throat and Sara turned to find Drew staring at her. “Sara!” A smile spread across his face.

The sheer pleasure in his eyes left her weak-kneed. “Hi, Drew,” she said.

“You two know each other?” Gus asked.

“We met yesterday afternoon.” Drew approached her. “It’s good to see you,” he said.

“It’s good to see you, too.” She struggled to talk normally around the crazy fluttering in her chest. “I wanted to apologize for running off like that yesterday.”

“It’s okay. You had things you had to take care of.”

He had the most beautiful brown eyes, with little flecks of gold in them. “I was hoping…maybe we could try again.”

She was so mesmerized by Drew’s proximity, so lost in his eyes, that she forgot all about Gus. Until he cleared his throat again and she jumped.

“Why don’t you let me look after the shop this morning,” Gus said. “You two go on and enjoy yourselves.” He glanced out the window toward the beach and the sparkling ocean beyond. “It’s a beautiful day out.”

Drew frowned. “I don’t know, Grandpa. People will be signing up for the tournament and lessons. It could get really busy.”

“Cooter can help me. And it won’t kill people if they have to wait their turn.”

“I almost forgot,” Sara said. “I have to sign up for the tournament.”

“I thought you said you didn’t surf,” Drew said.

She fought back a blush. “I don’t. But I’ve always wanted to learn.” She shrugged. “The tournament seemed like a good incentive. Besides, you get points for entering, don’t you?”

“You mean for the Sin on the Beach contest?” Drew picked up a clipboard from the counter and glanced at the papers clipped there. “It says here you get fifty points for entering.”

“Great. My friends and I are trying to win the time share at the beach house.”

Drew grunted as Gus elbowed him in the side. He frowned at his grandfather, then turned back to Sara. “There are a lot of activities this week for the festival—contests and stuff. Since the Surf Shack is one of the event sponsors, I’m not eligible to earn points for myself, but I could be a part of your team.”

“That would be great.” It would give them an excuse to spend more time together. “To tell you the truth, I was starting to worry I wouldn’t be able to contribute enough to the group. My roommate Candy has already racked up a bunch of points. And my other roommate, Ellie, is trying out as an extra for Sin on the Beach. If she gets a part, she wins a ton of points.”

“Your roommate wants to be on the show?” Gus interrupted them. “I have a part, you know.”

“You do?” She tried to hide her surprise. Aging surfers didn’t exactly fit the glamorous, sexy image usually associated with the hit show.

“I’m the crusty-but-lovable owner of the surf shop where the series stars keep their boards,” Gus said. “Local color and all that.”

“All Grandpa has to do is be himself,” Drew said. He handed Sara the clipboard. “Fill out one of these forms and you’ll be signed up for the tournament.” He moved behind the counter and consulted an open spiral notebook. “Where’s Cooter?” he asked.

“Out back,” Gus said, “repairing a board.”

Drew nodded and motioned to Sara. “When you’re done with that, come out back with me and we’ll fix you up with a board.”

She returned the completed form, then followed him down a set of stairs, into a yard surrounded by high wooden privacy fencing. Except for narrow paths through the clutter, the space was crammed with rows of upright surfboards in various conditions, more life jackets, a trio of ocean kayaks and what appeared to be the back half of a ’57 Chevy.

To the left of the stairs, a tall, wiry-haired young man was melting wax over the bottom of a surfboard resting on a pair of wooden sawhorses. He looked up as they approached. “Hey dude,” he said. He nodded to Sara.

“Sara, this is Cooter. Cooter, Sara.” Drew made the introductions. “Sara needs a board.”

“Give her one of those over there.” Cooter gestured to a row of blue-and-white surfboards against the fence. “They’re super sweet.”

Drew stepped over a heap of life jackets and pulled out a board. “Find a life jacket that fits,” he called over his shoulder.

She fished out a bright green jacket and followed him to a gate that gave access onto the beach. “Tell me about Gus,” she said. “You said yesterday he’d had a heart attack?”

“Two.” He held the gate open for her. “He was running the Surf Shack pretty much by himself and it was too much for him.”

“So you stepped in to help.”

He followed her along the side of the building. “My parents used to run it with him when I was a kid, but they retired to Arizona a few years ago and ended up opening a rock shop there.” He shook his head. “They couldn’t stand not working, but now they’re so involved with that business, they couldn’t leave it to help Grandpa.”

“He’s lucky to have you, then.”

“It beats sitting behind a desk in an insurance office, which is what I was doing before.”

“Still, it’s a lot of responsibility.” Not to mention how much he must worry about his grandfather.

He shrugged. “I try not to let it cramp my style.” The smile he flashed made her feel a little light-headed. The word devastating came to mind. She hoped she wasn’t out of her league here. After all, she hadn’t had much practice at this relationship stuff.

When they reached the front of the building, he handed her the board and went to retrieve his own. “Do you have plenty of sunblock?” he asked when he joined her again.

“I do.” Ellie had lectured them all on the danger of skin cancer. Her own goth-white skin testified to her devotion to SPF.

She left her beach bag in Gus’s care, then headed down the shore with Drew. The sand was already strewn with beach chairs and vacationers sunning themselves on towels or reclining beneath umbrellas. Children splashed in the shallows while older teens and adults floated on the waves farther out. The smells of coconut suntan oil and salty seawater mingled with the polished-floor scent of the surfboards they carried.

“What beach did you hang out at when you were a kid?” Drew asked. “Was it this one?”

“Not usually. Most of the time I hung out at County Line Beach.” In those days there hadn’t been much at County Line but a few portable toilets and lots of surfers. It was the perfect place for anyone looking to get away from parents, school or too many rules. The perfect place for a kid to get into trouble, and Sara had found her share of that. She skipped school so much she almost failed her junior year of high school. She smoked pot, drank beer and wasn’t above stealing snacks and small items from local stores on her way to the beach. The people she hung out with then were just like her—rebels and dropouts who were truly at home only on the beach.

She wondered if things had changed much at her old hang-out. She hadn’t been back in years.

“Good surfing there,” Drew said. “Good diving at the kelp beds, too.”

“Mostly I just hung out,” she said. “Worked on my tan and watched the surfers.” The guys and gals who rode the waves on longboards had represented the ultimate freedom to her. They were popular, tanned and at home in their environment in a way she—an awkward, fatherless teen who’d moved halfway across the country to a city where she knew no one—found difficult.

“Now you’re going to be one of those surfers.”

They walked past the crowds to an area of the shore that was almost deserted at this hour. “This is a good place to put in.” Drew stopped and planted the tail of his board in the sand. “You want to start out with some small waves—stuff you won’t even think worth surfing later.”

She squinted out at the waves. They didn’t look very large from here, but her stomach still fluttered with nervousness at the idea of trying to ride them. “I guess that’s why no one else is here,” she said.

“That’s good. You want to avoid crowds. Plus, surfers get ticked off at beginners who get in their way.”

“I think that’s why I never learned before,” she said. “I didn’t want to be one of those people my heroes always complained about.”

He laughed. “I’ve been one of those guys complaining myself, but I won’t give you any grief today. We’ll take it slow and before you know it, you’ll be riding a wave. I promise.”

She nodded, though she had her doubts. Still, she would never learn if she didn’t try. This vacation was all about breaking out of old patterns and trying new things. “Okay. Where do we start?”

“First, we’re going to do some push-ups.”

“Push-ups?” She frowned at him. “You’re going to make me work out before we get in the water?”

“We just need to practice a few moves that you’ll use out there and it’s easier to start on land.”

She was still skeptical. “Push-ups?”

“Sort of. Watch me.” He lay on his stomach in the sand. Dressed only in baggy Hawaiian print shorts, his body was brown and muscular, his legs long, dusted with golden hairs. Sara felt a tickle of desire in her midsection, and had a fleeting image of her lying in the sand beside him, rolling into his arms.

In one swift movement, he levered himself into a push-up, then sprang to a crouch, one foot in front of the other. He lifted his arms and balanced there, swaying slightly like a surfer adjusting his stance to the waves. He looked up at her and grinned. “Think you can do that?”

“Sure.” She lay in the sand, trying to recall exactly what he’d done. She wasn’t a gym rat, but she took the occasional yoga class and walked a lot around her neighborhood. That counted for exercise, didn’t it?

“Now imagine you’re on your board,” Drew said. “A wave is coming. Jump up and ride it.”

Hoisting her body into a push-up was no problem, but jumping into a crouch from there was more difficult than it had appeared. She wobbled into position, arms out, sand sticking to her chest and stomach.

“You need to move faster,” Drew said. “Remember, that wave’s coming and you have to get on your feet.”

She tried again. “How’s that?”

“Your feet need to be farther apart. The front foot should be near the middle of the board, sort of centered under your body, and the back foot should be toward the tail.”

She tried again, and again, until she was panting and sweating. She looked up at Drew through a fringe of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “How’s that?”

He nodded. “Better. You’ll want to practice more on your own.” He extended his hand and she took it. He pulled her to her feet and began brushing sand from her stomach and sides.

His hands were warm, and the contact made her warmer still. When his fingers grazed her breast a tremor shuddered through her and she swayed a little. He stilled and their eyes met, his gaze heated and intense. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry.” She wet her lips, hoping he’d kiss her. Her mouth tingled in anticipation of his touch. Who cared about surfing? There were better things to do on a deserted section of beach.

But he looked away, and the moment passed. “I think we’re ready to get in the water. First, attach your leash. That will keep you from losing your board when you fall off.”

“Who says I’m going to fall off?” she teased as she snapped the tether around her ankle.

“You’ll fall off. You won’t learn if you don’t.” He straightened. “We’re going to lie down on our boards and paddle out into the water.”

“Sounds simple enough.” She followed him out into the water, pushing her surfboard along in front of her.

“It’s harder than it looks. Now get on your board.”

She wrestled the surfboard into position and managed to flop down onto it—not an easy feat in the choppy water. “What now?”

“The most important thing is to balance. That’s the key to surfing every step of the way. Keep your weight centered on the board. Don’t lean back toward the tail. Paddle with cupped hands.” He demonstrated and she mimicked him. They began to move forward, bobbing in the waves.

“This isn’t bad.” She grinned at him. “It’s even kind of f—” At that moment, a larger wave descended, flipping her over. She came up sputtering, eyes stinging from the salt water.

“You okay?” Drew called.

“Fine.” Everything except her dignity. She hoisted herself back onto her board.

Drew paddled over to her. “It’s hard to paddle over bigger waves, so you need to learn to duck dive.”

“Duck dive? As in going under water?” She didn’t like the sound of that.

“Just for a minute. Just under the wave, really. It can be fun.” He turned to study the horizon, then pointed. “See that bigger swell heading toward us?”

“I see it.”

“Okay, you want to line up perpendicular to it, then a couple of feet before it reaches you, grab both sides of the board and shove the nose down. Once the nose is under, use your knee to force the tail under. Do it right and you’ll bob right up on the other side of the wave.”

“And if I do it wrong?”

He laughed. “You go swimming again.”

They practiced the technique a few times, laughing and splashing, until she had the hang of it. The feeling of riding the board beneath the wave was exhilarating, like a day at a waterpark, but wilder and freer.

They were several hundred yards from shore now, and the waves were larger, well-spaced and regular. Drew straddled his board and motioned for her to do the same. “Are you ready to ride a wave?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m excited.” Now that she was more comfortable in the water, she could hardly wait to experience the freedom she’d so often imagined.

“Okay, you want to watch for the wave and swing your board around to face the beach, then lie down and start paddling. Remember to keep your balance and don’t lean back. Then remember that move I showed you on the beach.”

“The push-up, jump-up thing,” she said, thinking of other moves she wished he’d show her—moves that had nothing to do with surfing.

“Here comes a good wave,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They turned their boards and started paddling. Sara tried to watch Drew out of the corner of her eye, to copy his moves, even as she struggled to balance and maneuver her own board.

Her first try was a disaster, as she immediately flipped off the board and sank like lead, the board tossing in the water behind her like a splinter from a shipwreck. She rose to the surface in time to see Drew ride his board into the shallows, as easily as if he’d been standing on the deck of a ship.

She managed to right her board and climb back on. He paddled back to her. “Don’t worry, it’ll get easier,” he promised. “Ready to try again?”

She nodded. Everybody messed up their first time. She’d get it this time.

Round two wasn’t much better. Round three she managed to get to her feet and promptly fell off the board.

“Maybe we should go in and rest,” Drew said when he paddled to her after her fourth failed attempt.

“No.” She threw herself back onto her board. “I’m going to do this.”

“But if you’re tired—”

“I’m fine.” She glared at him.

He laughed. “Okay. We’ll give it another try. Remember to keep your weight centered, and once you’re on your feet, keep a low center of gravity.”

She paddled out farther this time, hoping to buy more time to figure out the moves required to ride the wave. She watched the swells rolling in and turned toward shore once more, paddling hard as Drew had showed her.

She felt the moment the wave caught the board and began pulling it backward. Grabbing the sides of the board, she thrust herself up into a crouch, wobbling crazily as she slid her feet into position. Arms outstretched, she struggled to balance as the board pitched under her.

Then, in a magical moment, she found her balance. The board steadied and rose, carried on the wave. She was floating. Flying. Laughter bubbled in her like champagne and she turned her face up to the sun.

Even her less-than-graceful dismount in the shallows did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm. “I did it!” she shouted when Drew splashed toward her.

“You did it.” His grin was as broad as hers felt, and he put his arm around her waist and hugged her to him as they waded to dry land.

“I want to do it again,” she said.

“Let’s rest a minute.” He sat on the sand and unsnapped the leash from his ankle.

She dropped beside him and unleashed her board also, then lay on her back, one hand shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight. “I am tired,” she said. “But thrilled.”

Drew stretched out beside her, their bodies almost but not quite touching. “You did great,” he said. “Now that you’ve got the balance thing figured out, you’ll learn fast.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to compete in the tournament Saturday?”

“Sure. There’s a new surfers division. You’ll do fine in that.”

“I can’t wait.” She rolled onto her stomach and propped herself on her elbows, looking down at him. “Thank you for teaching me. This is so much fun, being here with you like this.”

“I’m enjoying it, too.” His eyes met hers, the amusement she’d seen there earlier replaced by frank interest and desire. At least, she thought that’s what the look said. She was out of practice at reading men. “So…no woman in your life?” She tried to sound casual, though her stomach was doing somersaults as she spoke. “Girlfriend? Significant other?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been so involved with Gus and the business, I haven’t made time to date.”

A sigh of relief escaped her. “I know what you mean.”

“What about you?” he asked. “Any boyfriends back in L.A.?”

She shook her head. “No time.” She’d told herself she’d date later, when the business was secure and she could afford to take more time off. But the business kept growing and there was always more to do. Then one day she’d looked up and she was twenty-six. More and more of her friends were married, living with someone or otherwise involved in serious relationships. Meanwhile she couldn’t remember the last name of the last guy she’d dated.

“Sounds like we’ve both been working hard,” Drew said, moving in closer. The look he gave her warmed her in a way the sun could not and burned away any shyness or hesitation that remained between them.

She leaned closer, her breast brushing his side, one hand braced on his arm. “I’ve been wanting all morning to kiss you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She lowered her lips to his and his arms came up to encircle her, pulling her down onto him. She angled her mouth more firmly against his and threaded her fingers through his hair. His lips were full and firm against hers, caressing sensitive nerve endings and sending waves of pleasure through her.

She opened her mouth, inviting his tongue, reveling in his taste of sweetness and salt. He smelled of seawater and clean sweat, and his skin beneath her hands was rough with sand.

He smoothed his hands down her back, caressing her skin, lingering over the indentation at the bottom of her spine, shaping his fingers to her buttocks and squeezing gently. A sharp ache of desire welled within her, making her catch her breath at its intensity. She could not remember when any man had affected her this way.

Hands on either side of her hips, he pulled her tight against him, letting her feel the fullness of his erection, pressing against her own throbbing sex until a soft moan escaped her. She felt drunk with desire, as free and energized as she had in those few moments of riding the wave.

She broke the kiss and smiled down at Drew. “I like your idea of resting,” she said.

He reached up and brushed her hair back from her forehead. “I like you,” he said. “And I want to see a lot more of you.”

“I want to see a lot more of you.” She emphasized the words with a bump-and-grind movement against him.

“Yeah.” His voice was rough with desire. He smoothed his hands across her buttocks again. “I’d suggest we go back to my place right now, but Grandpa’s liable to walk in any time.”

“And Candy’s working back at our beach house.” Plus, Sara had never liked to bring guys to a place she shared with roommates. It was a personal rule of hers. Reluctantly, she pushed herself off him and sat in the sand.

He sat up and massaged her shoulder. “There’s something to be said for anticipation.” He lifted her hair to kiss the back of her neck, sending another wave of desire straight to her sex.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and leaned against him. “Should we go back into the water?”

He glanced out at the ocean. “Waves are getting a little rough,” he said.

For the first time, she noticed that the wind had picked up, ruffling her hair and blowing sand over them. The swells were larger now, breaking roughly into whitewater, tangles of seaweed bobbing among the foam. “Is a storm coming?” she asked.

He glanced at the sky, where the sun still shone. “Just a little afternoon turbulence.”

She glanced at the sky also, and was surprised to find the sun considerably lower toward the horizon. “What time is it?” she asked.

He checked his watch. “It’s after two. No wonder I’m starved.” He rose and offered her his hand. “Come back to the shop with me. I need to see how things are going and we can grab some lunch.”

“I really need to check in with my office,” she said. Knowing Candy was slaving away made Sara feel guilty. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d left Uncle Spence to his own devices so long. The thought made her stomach twist. He was probably having a panic attack.

They collected their boards and walked toward the more populated area of the shore. “I should probably try to get some work done this afternoon, too,” Drew said, sounding reluctant.

“We could get together again tonight,” she said. “And I should really be trying to get more points for the contest.”

“We could check out the carnival,” Drew said. “There are games and stuff there where I think you can win points.”

“I’d love that.” She squeezed his arm, enjoying the feel of the hard muscle of his bicep. “Ellie and Candy said something about a photo scavenger hunt on for tonight, too.”

“A photo scavenger hunt?”

“You have to take pictures of certain things—I don’t really know what, exactly. They’re supposed to post a list tonight.”

He laughed. “I’m game.” He glanced at her. “As long as we can find some time to be alone, too.”

She grinned. “I think that can definitely be arranged.” Even if she had to hang a Do Not Disturb sign on her door in the beach house, she was determined to get Drew alone—and naked—before too many hours had passed.

Wild Child

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