Wild Child. Cindi Myers

Wild Child - Cindi  Myers


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surfer rode the wave until it died in the shallows, then came ashore, pulling the board behind him by its leash. She couldn’t tear her gaze away as he emerged from the water like some mythical sea god. Or maybe the star in one of her more vivid sexual fantasies…

      “Hello!”

      With a start, she realized he’d spotted her. He moved closer, waving.

      She smiled and waved back, her heart galloping in her chest.

      “Come on down! The waves are great!” he called.

      She hesitated. Here was the opening she’d been looking for. “I’ll be right there!” she called. She started toward the stairs leading down from the deck to the beach, hesitated, then did an about-face and grabbed the cell phone. Candy would give her a hard time if she saw, but what could Sara say? She wasn’t ready to go cold turkey yet. Besides, it wasn’t as if she expected another call or anything. She just felt kind of…naked…without it.

      DREW LEANED his board against the deck pilings and waited for the young woman to join him. She was wearing a bright-orange bikini that showed off her very sexy curves. He was glad she’d agreed to join him. When he’d spotted her she’d been watching him with a wistful look on her face. As if she really didn’t want to be on that deck by herself.

      Since he’d started off the day feeling lonely himself, he figured maybe the two of them could help each other out. And it didn’t hurt that she looked hot in that bikini. “Hi, I’m Drew Jamison.” He stood at the top of the steps and held out his hand. “Welcome to Malibu.”

      “Hello. I’m Sara.” She hesitated, then stepped forward and took his hand. She had a firm, businesslike grip, but her hand was cold. He cupped it in his and rubbed back and forth. “You ought to get out into the sun and warm up.”

      She pulled away and turned to look out over the ocean, her cheeks a becoming pink. Obviously, she wasn’t used to strangers rubbing her hand. Way to go, Drew, he thought. Scare her off, first thing.

      He struck a casual pose next to his board, pretending to look out at the waves while watching her out of the corner of his eye. He kept a good three feet of space between them. He didn’t want her to think he was the type to come on too strong.

      “How long have you been surfing?”

      Her voice was soft, with a slight Southern drawl that sent heat through him that had nothing to do with the Malibu sun. “I’ve been doing it since I was a kid,” he said. “Almost twenty-five years.”

      “You’re very good.” She glanced at him, a shy smile transforming her face.

      There went another heat wave. If she was flirting with him she was keeping it low key, but his body was responding as if she’d turned on the charm one hundred percent. Guess he was lonelier than he’d thought. He grinned. “Thanks. I run the surf shop down the way, the Surf Shack. My grandpa owns the place, so I’ve been hanging out there for years. I give lessons too, if you’re interested in learning how to surf while you’re here.”

      Her smile brightened. “I’d like that. Though we only have the cottage for a week.”

      His grin evaporated. “We?” Just his luck, she had a burly boyfriend or husband lurking somewhere.

      “I’m here with two girlfriends. We came down from L.A. for a few days’ break.”

      Ah. Two friends. That sounded better. “Where are you from originally?” he asked. “That doesn’t sound like an L.A. accent.”

      She laughed. “No, that always gives me away.” She faced him. “I’m originally from Georgia. I moved here with my mom when I was in high school, after my dad died. Her brother—my Uncle Spence—was living in L.A. and he sort of helped her raise me. What about you? Are you a native?”

      “Yep. Lived here all my life.”

      “No wonder you’re such a good surfer.”

      He shrugged. “I don’t do it as much as I’d like. Running a business takes a lot of time. That and family obligations.”

      “Don’t I know it.” She motioned to the phone in her other hand. “I can’t even get away from the business when I’m on vacation. And my Uncle Spence, bless his heart, expects me to do everything.”

      “Then it sounds to me like you really need a vacation.” He moved closer. “And I’d really love some company this afternoon.”

      The thought of going back into the water, or back to work, by himself held no appeal now that he’d met Sara. If she was only going to be here a week, he didn’t want to waste any time getting to know her better.

      She looked out at the waves again. “I’ll admit it’s tempting.” She glanced back at her phone. “I could always finish my work later….”

      He was congratulating himself on saying the right thing when her phone rang. He silently willed her not to answer it, but he had the feeling she wasn’t the type to ignore a ringing phone.

      She gave him an apologetic look then took the call. “Hello? Oh, hi, Candy. Are you at Matt’s already?”

      He walked a short distance away so she’d have a little privacy and tried not to listen to the “uh-huhs” and “oh reallys” that punctuated her half of the conversation. He hoped she didn’t get sidetracked by work and decide she couldn’t come with him.

      Timing was everything, in surfing as well as life. Five years ago, his grandfather, Gus, had suffered a massive heart attack. He’d recovered, but last year a second coronary had laid him low. He’d been in danger of losing the Surf Shack when Drew had stepped in to help. He’d been behind the counter at the Shack ever since, while Gus helped out as he could. Now that his doctors had declared surfing off-limits, Gus mostly played the role of local surfing “character,” sharing stories of his heyday as a surfing king to anyone who cared to hang around.

      Drew hadn’t really minded returning to the place where he’d grown up, but between living with his grandfather and running the Surf Shack, surfing was something he could never get away from. He loved it, but he felt pressured by it, too. Last night after Gus was in bed, Drew had stayed up to balance the Shack accounts. Midway through reviewing inventory records, he’d realized this was no way for a twenty-nine-year-old guy to spend Sunday night.

      The sudden loneliness had hit him in the gut, and this morning he’d vowed to change things. He’d get out more, meet women and find someone to share his life with.

      So was it mere coincidence that the first woman he’d met seemed to want the same thing for herself? Maybe he was reading too much into a wistful look and a few words of conversation, but something in him sensed that Sara was a woman who wanted more.

      Maybe he could be the one to give her what she wanted.

      “Sorry about that.” She walked up behind him, tote bag slung over her shoulder. “I was afraid that would be my Uncle Spence calling with some urgent business problem, but it was just one of my roommates.”

      “So you’re free to come with me now?”

      She smiled. “I’m free. At least for a little while. And I’d better take advantage of that.”

      2

      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


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