# Wild Child

Cindi Myers

Sassy heroines and irresistible heroes embark on sizzling sexual adventures as they play the game of modern love and lust. Expect fast paced reads with plenty of steamy encounters.Riding the waves has never been so tempting! A week in Malibu with no mobile phone, no laptop and half-naked male bodies for miles? Dedicated businesswoman and former party girl Sara Montgomery is determined to relish every hedonistic moment. And she’s found the perfect man to join her – Drew Jamison. Sara throws herself into a full-throttle, whirlwind fling. However, something about Drew makes her think this is more than a holiday affair.There’s no room for him in her frantic everyday life. But can she really leave him behind?

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all morning.”

“And I don’t want to wait any longer,” Sara said to Drew.

She lowered her lips to his and his arms encircled her, pulling her down onto him. She angled her mouth more firmly against his and threaded her fingers through his hair. His lips caressed sensitive nerve endings, sending waves of pleasure through her.

She opened her mouth, inviting his tongue, revelling in the feel of him, tasting sweetness and salt. He smelled of seawater, 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 in her, making her catch her breath at its intensity. She could not remember when any man had affected her this way.

She broke the kiss and smiled down at him. He reached up to brush her hair back from her forehead and said, “I want to see you naked…now.”

CINDI MYERS

Cindi Myers’s idea of the perfect holiday is one spent whittling down her massive to-be-read pile. If warm sun, waves and handsome cabana boys to bring her drinks and food are also involved, that’s even better. Cindi lives in the Colorado Mountains with her husband and two spoiled dogs.

Dear Reader,

We’ve all heard about male bonding, but I believe female bonding is what truly holds the world together. There’s nothing like female friendship, which is why writing Wild Child was extra special for me. Not only did I get to write a book in a mini-series about three close female friends, but I also got to do it with two friends of mine, Dawn Atkins and Colleen Collins.

Dawn, Colleen and I brainstormed this story a couple of years ago, and gradually it evolved into the SEX ON THE BEACH mini-series, of which Wild Child is the third book. If you haven’t read the other two books – Swept Away by Dawn Atkins and Shock Waves by Colleen Collins – do find them. You’re in for a treat.

Friendship, fun, sun and hot guys – what else do you need for a great vacation? I hope this story is a fun vacation from your everyday life. I’d love to hear from you. You can find me online at www.CindiMyers.com.

Happy reading!

Cindi Myers

## WILD CHILD

BY

CINDI MYERS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

1

THE SAD TRUTH was, Sara Montgomery did not set out to be a corporate drone—one of those blue-suited types chained to a computer and cell phone. But somewhere between her wild-child past and her twenty-sixth birthday, that’s exactly what she’d become. Even now, on vacation at a Malibu beach house, when she’d taken her pals Ellie and Candy’s dare and vowed to leave work behind her for the week, she hadn’t been able to leave her laptop at home.

“It’s sick, I tell you,” Candy Calder said as she watched Sara unpack the iBook. A diminutive brunette with violet eyes who worked at a software firm in the same office building as Sara and Ellie, Candy was the life of every party—an expert at leaving work at work. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, not working.”

“I only brought it to check e-mail,” Sara said. “Just in case there’s an emergency.” Of course, with Uncle Spence, everything was an emergency. But what if he really needed her while she was away? “I’ll only check it once a day.”

“Come walking on the beach with us.” The third member of the group, Ellie Rockwell, a glam-goth chick who owned the coffee shop on the ground floor of their building, rubbed sunscreen on her arms, her long dark fingernails standing out against her pale skin. “It’s a gorgeous day. I hear the surf’s up and that means lots of beautiful bronzed bodies to admire.”

Sara set the laptop on the table and stashed the case behind the sofa. “And of course, your walk will just happen to take you past a certain beach house not far from here where a certain good-looking man is staying?”

Candy blushed. “Ellie wants to say hello to her brother. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Ellie’s brother, Matt, worked with Candy and was conveniently vacationing at a bungalow down the beach.

“And there’s nothing wrong with you talking with a coworker.” Sara grinned. “Maybe even flirting a little. I mean, that’s one of the big reasons for this vacation, right? So that you can get the man you’ve been not-so-secretly lusting after?”

Candy rolled her eyes. “That is not why we’re here. I’m going to prove to Matt—who is my boss, not my potential bed partner—that I can be serious about work. I’m not just a party girl.”

“And you’re on this vacation to learn how to loosen up,” Ellie reminded Sara. “To forget about work for a while—” she eyed the laptop “—and have some fun. Find a gorgeous guy and get laid.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter.

Sara ignored the tickle in her belly at the idea of handsome men and sex—things that had been missing from her life for too long now. “I know why I’m here,” she said. “And I promise, I am going to have fun. I just have to check in with the office….”

When the others raised their voices in protest, she changed the subject. “Let’s not forget why Ellie is here,” she said. “It’s not only to look after the rest of us.”

Ellie fluffed her dead-black locks and avoided looking either of them in the eye. “I’m here because I’m a big fan of Sin on the Beach. And I got us a great deal on the beach house…and I thought it would be fun.”

“And you need to take a break from looking after everyone else and do something for you,” Sara said.

Ellie nodded. “Right. And I intend to do that…as soon as I know that you two are all set for killer vacations on your own. Which means no computer for you—” she pointed to Sara “—and more time with my good-looking but lonely brother for you.” She wagged a finger at Candy.

Candy made a face. “I know you have your heart set on the two of us hooking up, but honestly, Matt isn’t interested in me that way. And I don’t see him that way, either. I only want to impress him with my work skills.”

Ellie’s grin didn’t fade. “I think you impress him all right,” she said. “You just don’t realize how much.” She shouldered her beach bag. “Come on, let’s go. And Sara—put away that laptop now. Before I hide the power cord.”

“I’ll relax as soon as I finish a few last-minute details.” Sara tried to ignore the guilt pinching at her. “I promised Uncle Spence.” She’d log on for a few minutes, make sure no catastrophes had struck in the few hours she’d been away from the office, then she’d be free to enjoy the rest of the weekend.

“Your Uncle Spence is so nice,” Ellie said. “He always leaves a tip for his double-shot espressos. I’m sure he’d understand if you didn’t work on your vacation.”

“Uncle Spence is a nice man.” All the more reason not to let him down. She shooed her two friends toward the door. “You two go on. I promise I’ll change into my swimsuit, take a quick look at my e-mail, then I’ll catch up with you.”

“All right then.” Candy lingered in the doorway. “If you’re going to be here for a few minutes longer, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.” Favors she could handle—obligations were the real bitches these days.

“Call me on my cell in a minute?”

“Okay. Any particular reason why?”

“Pretend you’re a business colleague. But wait until we’ve had time to get to Matt’s place. I want him to see that I can be serious about work.”

“Even when you’re on vacation?” She nodded, holding back a smile. “Gotcha.” Apparently Candy didn’t see the irony in pretending to do exactly what she’d lectured Sara against. Maybe because her fun-loving friend was a pro at mixing business and pleasure, while Sara had never been able to figure out how to juggle the two.

When they were out the door, Sara fished a brand-new bright-orange bikini from her suitcase and slipped it on. Her reflection in the bathroom mirror made her flinch. Her fish-belly white complexion was not a pretty sight. Why hadn’t she thought to buy a bottle of fake bake when she was out shopping for the bikini? The glare off her white skin was liable to interfere with satellite transmission or something.

Grabbing a bottle of sunscreen and the laptop, she went out onto the beach house’s broad veranda and settled into a cushioned lounge chair. At least here she could see the beach and enjoy the sound of waves crashing on the sand. Even if she was at her computer, lounging in a bikini with the ocean as a backdrop didn’t exactly count as work, did it?

She looked down the shoreline for some sign of Candy and Ellie, but staggered rows of beach houses blocked her view of them. She’d give them a few more minutes to reach Matt’s place before she called.

She signed on to her e-mail and waded through half a dozen spam messages, all promising extreme outcomes in the subject line. As if she needed increased anatomy or free designer knock-offs. When she spied a message marked with the word Urgent! she didn’t even have to check the sender to know this was from Uncle Spence. Stomach fluttering with dread, she opened the e-mail and read through a message completely in caps and heavily punctuated with exclamation marks. Maybe she should ask Ellie to switch Spence to decaf.

While she was composing her reply, her cell phone chirped. She retrieved it from her tote bag and checked the number. Frowning, she hit the answer button. “Hello, Uncle Spence.”

“Sara, why haven’t you answered my messages?” Spence’s Southern gentleman’s drawl was laced with tension. “I’m leaving for the golf course to play eighteen holes with Benton Granger. He’s going to want to know about that deal you’ve been working on for him.”

“Tell him everything’s on schedule for his closing next Thursday.” She logged off her e-mail.

“Are you sure? We haven’t heard back from the title company yet, have we? And what about the survey?”

“The survey came in Friday. It’s in the file. And the title company is supposed to call tomorrow.”

“You should call them today.” In the background she heard the hushed, reverent commentary of the Golf Channel announcers on TV. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my years in this business, it’s that you have to stay on people to get them to complete tasks in a timely manner.”

She rolled her eyes. Spence Montgomery’s business philosophy in a nutshell: management by nagging. “Everything will be fine,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

“It’s my job to worry. And yours, too. It takes worry—and a great deal of hard work—to stay on top in this business. I’d have thought you’d have learned that from me, if nothing else.”

She had learned it all right. Since she was seventeen and her uncle had given her a job as a clerk at his business, Anderson Title, he had taught her the importance of hard work. And she’d been a good pupil; once she’d graduated college, he’d promoted her and she’d taken on more and more responsibility every year. The business had blossomed into a multimillion-dollar concern, processing over a hundred mortgage loans a month.

Sara loved the business. And she loved Uncle Spence. She owed all her current success to him. But he really did worry too much. “When you see Mr. Granger, tell him everything is going great.”

“It would be better if you were here to make sure of that.”

“I’ll be back in the office next week. I’ll take care of his account then.”

“I think you should call the title company today. Just to make sure they haven’t run into any snags.”

“Uncle Spence, I’m on vacation.”

“One brief call won’t make that much of a difference. And it would set Granger’s mind at ease—and mine as well.”

She checked her watch. It was a little after one o’clock. She could phone Marsha, then hit the beach. “Okay. I’ll call. And I’ll e-mail you to let you know everything’s okay. But then I’m turning my phone off.”

“Don’t do that! What if I need you?”

There had been a time when she’d been flattered by Spence saying he needed her. But the warm fuzzies had worn off some time ago. “You’ve been in this business a lot longer than I have. I’m sure you can handle anything that comes up.”

“You’re responsible for your own clients, Sara. Remember, at Anderson Title we pride ourselves on our customer service.” The implication that he would be disappointed if she provided anything less than the best hung heavy in the air.

She sighed. She couldn’t say no to Uncle Spence. “All right. But please promise not to call me unless it’s an emergency.”

“That’s my girl.” The cheerfulness was back in his voice. “I promise. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Goodbye. And don’t worry.” She might as well tell the waves to stop moving.

She checked her watch again. Candy and Ellie ought to have reached Matt’s beach house by now. She punched in Candy’s number. The line rang and rang, but there was no response. Odd. Maybe Candy was too involved in a conversation with Matt to answer.

Sara shrugged and set aside the phone, then clicked on the address book on her computer to retrieve Marsha’s number. While she waited for the program to open, she stared out at the ocean.

A figure appeared on the horizon—the dark outline of a surfer against an expanse of blue sky and foaming white water. As she watched, he moved closer. She could tell it was a man now, broad-shoul-dered, wearing Hawaiian print board shorts.

She leaned forward, holding her breath as he rode the crest of a perfect curl. Knees slightly bent, arms held a little apart from his body, he was precisely balanced on the board, a picture of grace and strength.

Her heart twisted with longing as she watched the man. Oh, to be able to tame the ocean that way. To have such command over the waves and your own body. When she was a girl, she’d spent a lot of time on the beach, mooning after various surfing gods. She’d never gotten farther than being “allowed” to hold surfboards while her crushes headed off with some other bikini-clad babe.

Of course she’d also been skipping school, experimenting with drugs and hanging out with the wrong crowd. She was one short step away from juvenile delinquency when her mother’s brother, Spence, had reined her in.

But she hadn’t been all bad in those days. She smiled, remembering. Sure, she’d been a little reckless. A little wild. But she’d also been fun and spontaneous. Words that didn’t play a big part in her life these days.

Wasn’t that part of the reason she’d come on this vacation—to get in touch with that inner wild child again? To rediscover the fun of being a little reckless?

She stood and leaned over the railing to watch the surfer more closely. He was tall and muscular, bronzed from hours in the sun. Exactly the kind of guy she’d panted after years ago.

Okay, so she could admit to herself that he was the kind of guy who still made her feel a little out of breath. Just because she’d been too busy working these past few years to have time for a relationship with the opposite sex didn’t mean she was dead.

That was the whole point of this vacation, wasn’t it? She was here to prove to Ellie and Candy—and most importantly, to herself—that she still had what it took to have fun and really live.

She checked the surfer again. Great abs. Great legs. Great tan. Her lips curved in a smile. Exactly the kind of man she could go for.

So why not go for him? The idea sent a thrill of anticipation through her and she stood up straighter. What better way to wake up her dormant libido and rev up her inner party girl than a fling with a hot surfer?

The 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 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.

3

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.

4

SARA WAITED until she’d left Drew at the Surf Shack before she turned on her cell phone. She was disappointed, but not surprised, to see that her voice mail was full of messages, all from Uncle Spence. Each message was increasingly more irate, until by the last one he was reduced to almost hysterical sputtering.

With a sigh, Sara punched in his number as she made her way toward the beach house. “Uncle Spence, I just got your messages,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Sara! Where the hell have you been?” He rushed on, not waiting for an answer. “I can’t find the Montoya file anywhere. And the survey company called, asking for the legal description of the McManus property. And where the hell is the ink for the fax machine?”

“The Montoya file is in the bottom right-hand drawer of my desk, under M. The legal description for the McManus property is available from the courthouse. Or you can look it up on the Web. The ink for the fax is in the supply cabinet. Top shelf.” Honestly. How did the man function at home?

“Why aren’t the files in the filing cabinet with everything else?” She could hear him slamming drawers and rummaging through papers.

“The files in the filing cabinet are completed transactions. The ones in my desk are current projects.” She was sure she’d told him this before, but because he didn’t expect to need the information, he hadn’t bothered to remember it.

“I found them,” he said. “When are you coming home? There’s a lot of work here that needs your attention.”

“Not until the end of the week. And it sounds as if you’re handling everything fine.” She shifted the phone to her other ear and forced optimism into her voice. “How did dinner with Mr. Granger go?”

“All right, I guess. He can be a real blowhard.”

Then why do you hang out with him? But she knew the answer to that. Uncle Spence cultivated people who were good business contacts, not necessarily good friends. This lack of people he could really trust in his life probably accounted for why he depended so much on her. What he needed were other people in his life. Real friends. Maybe even a romantic interest.

“Whatever happened to that woman you were dating for a while?” she asked. “Martha?”

“Magda.” A long silence. “She had to go back to Michigan to look after her father for a few months. After he died, we never got back together.”

“You ought to give her a call. The two of you always had fun together.”

“Maybe I should…” More rustling of papers. “I don’t have time for that now. Not while I’m trying to hold things together here with you gone.”

“Everything will be fine,” she said. “If anything else comes up, it can wait until I get back. It’s only a few more days.”

“People don’t like to be kept waiting, Sara. I’ve always told you that.”

“Waiting will teach them patience,” she said, and laughed, picturing the shocked expression on Uncle Spence’s face. Life was very serious business for him and she didn’t usually try to persuade him otherwise.

“I need that information for the McManus property right away,” he said. “Could you at least do that for me?”

The words to tell him to do it himself were there, on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Uncle Spence had always been very big on responsibility—as in her clients were her responsibility, even when she was on vacation. “All right. I’ll look them up when I get back to the beach house and e-mail them to you. But anything else will have to wait until I get home.”

“Keep your phone on in case I need you,” he said. “I don’t like being out of touch.”

“Reception isn’t always good out here,” she lied. “I think the film crew’s equipment must interfere with it or something.”

“I don’t know why those moviemakers have to take over public places when they’ve got acres of sound stages in Hollywood,” he said.

She didn’t bother to correct him. She was sure she’d told him about the Sin on the Beach festival, but of course, he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to that, either.

Unlike Drew, who had focused on her every word. The memory of his attention made her feel warm all over, and her voice had a dreamy quality as she said goodbye to Spence and hung up. Thoughts of Drew accompanied her all the way back to the beach house.

Ellie was in the kitchen, slicing limes. “I’m starved,” Sara said, heading for the refrigerator. “Where’s Candy?”

“Out somewhere. I hope with Matt.”

Sara fished a deli container of chicken salad out of the fridge, then plucked a fork from a drawer and dug in. “How was your day?” she asked. “How did the audition go?”

Ellie laid down the knife and turned to face Sara, her face serious. Sara’s stomach tightened and she set aside her late lunch. “What happened? Did they give the part to someone else?”

“There was more than one part available.” A smile lit Ellie’s face and she bounced on her toes. “And I got one of them!”

“That’s awesome!” Sara hugged her, then stepped back to look at her friend. Ellie wore the red bikini she’d borrowed from Sara, with a black fishnet cover-up. The new highlights in her hair and softer makeup had transformed her into a true beauty. “How could they not choose you? You’re gorgeous.”

Ellie executed a small curtsy, then turned back to the cutting board. “I’m making margaritas to celebrate. Want one?”

“Absolutely. I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

“I take it your surfing lesson went well.”

“It did. I actually surfed a wave. A small one, and only for a bit, but it was incredible.” She took another bite of chicken salad. “Drew thinks I’ll be in good shape for the beginner class of the competition.”

“And how is Drew?” Ellie squeezed lime juice into the blender, then reached for a bottle of tequila.

“Drew is fine. Very fine indeed.” She giggled. “I’m seeing him again tonight. He agreed to help us with the photo scavenger hunt.” She leaned forward and nudged Ellie. “And how is Bill?”

A pink flush washed Ellie’s cheeks as she added tequila to the blender. “He remembered me.”

“And?”

“And…I think he liked what he saw.” She slanted a look at Sara out of the corner of her eye. “I’m meeting him again in a little while.”

“Then I’ll make sure I’m out of the way.” She finished the last of the salad and dropped the fork in the sink. “Drew and I want to check out the carnival.”

“We’ll meet you and Candy and Matt by the main festival stage at nine,” Ellie said. “That’s when the scavenger hunt starts.” She added triple sec to the blender and dumped in ice.

Sara went into the living room, switching on the stereo as she passed. A bouncy rock tune filled the room and she danced her way over to her laptop. She hated even to turn the thing on, but she’d promised Uncle Spence. In any case, it wouldn’t take a minute to search the county property records for the information he needed and e-mail it to him. Then she could change clothes and get ready for her date with Drew. She gave an extra hip shake at the thought of the evening ahead.

True to form, Uncle Spence called again while she was searching for the information. While she was talking him down, the door to the beach house opened and Candy sashayed in, followed by a good-looking guy who, on second-glance, proved to be Ellie’s brother, Matt—sans glasses and his usual conservative threads, with a stylish new haircut and streaks in his hair.

Sara grinned and waved hello, then turned her attention back to business. “I’m sending the information right now, Uncle Spence,” she said. “All you have to do is print it out.”

When she got off the phone at last, she switched over to a spreadsheet she’d set up last night to track their points in the contest. She added in the points she’d earned today for entering the surfing competition, along with Ellie’s points for landing the role in Sin on the Beach. “We’re racking up the points,” she said. “Take a look.”

When everyone had oohed and ahhed over the totals for the Java Mamas—the name they’d chosen for their team, in honor of Ellie’s coffee shop, where the three of them had met—and Ellie had given Sara a hard time about her businesslike approach to the contest, they debated ways to add to their total and made plans for the scavenger hunt later. Candy disappeared into Ellie’s bedroom to change clothes and Sara followed her.