Texas Sizzle

by Lori Wilde

  He looked skeptical. “So I’m natural-footed, huh?”

  “Yes, you lead with your left foot.”

  “What does that tell me?”

  “Where you’ll position your feet on the board. You’ll put your left foot forward for greater balance.”

  “Are you natural-footed?”

  “Nope. I’m a screw.”

  “Um... screw?” Abel said, his face reddening.

  He looked so adorably embarrassed that the mischievous imp inside her wanted to chant “screw, screw, screw” just to see what he would do. Did suggestive words fluster him that much? But common sense prevailed, and she offered the simple explanation. “Screw-footed, sometimes called goofy-footed after a certain cartoon character who surfed with his right foot forward. Another one of my flaws if you’re keeping count. Most people are natural-footed.”

  “Oh.” His eyes were on hers, dark and watchful and... lusty.

  “Are you sure you’re an accountant?”

  “What?” His eyebrows shot up on his forehead and his mouth rounded.

  “Nothing.” She waved a hand. “Just an odd thought that passed through my head.”

  “Do you often express the odd thoughts that pass through your head?”

  “All the time.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Terrible character flaw.”

  “Honesty isn’t a flaw.”

  “Ah, so that’s what it’s called,” she teased.

  The gleam in his eyes sharpened. “Many people don’t appreciate honesty.”

  “But you do?”

  “I do.”

  “Even when I say ‘screw’?” She flirted, knowing she was treading in dangerous territory because she liked the lusty way that he was looking at her.

  She also liked the way he made her shiver and how her pulse sped up whenever he touched her. She liked how she felt when she was around him—stimulated, fascinated, and intrigued. He made her feel special.

  He was standing so close, their surfboards side by side in the sand at their feet, their knees almost touching. She could feel the tension in his body. Feel a corresponding tension growing inside her. One small step and her leg would brush against his...

  “Poppy...”

  Her name on his lips came out husky and raw and she’d never been so aroused in the bright sunlight on a public beach. She didn’t consciously move. Didn’t think about it at all. But her feet, oh, her unruly feet, inched closer, closing the gap between them.

  “Yes?”

  “What now?” His stare pierced hers, sharp with desire. For her.

  My place or yours? she whispered inside her head. Or so she thought.

  “Another odd stray thought?”

  She slapped a palm over her mouth. “Did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean to say that out loud. See what I mean? That terrible character flaw again.”

  “Honesty is never a terrible thing.”

  “Meaning?” Tension coiled up tight in her stomach and her throat and other, more feminine parts. Her nipples beaded hard, aching to feel his hot tongue.

  His gaze flicked downward, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. That smug little smile caused her nipples to knot even tighter.

  “About these surfing lessons...” he said and stepped away from her.

  Poppy told herself she was glad he’d backed up, backed off. Relieved. Grateful. Yes, surfing. That’s why they’d come here. To teach him to surf and that’s what she was going to do, because anything else was pure insanity. She’d learned her lesson. No more jumping headlong into relationships.

  But that didn’t stop her from wanting to jump his very sexy bones.

  #

  Abel dreaded surfing. He was accustomed to being good at what he did and for the most part, in control of his environment. He was a strong swimmer and generally excelled in water sports, but he’d never tried surfing. However, backing out wasn’t an option. The fact that he was nervous told him it was something he needed to conquer. Abel didn’t believe in letting fear dictate his actions.

  So here he was in a wet suit, surfboard under his arm, standing on South Padre Beach beside Poppy. She’d shimmied into her wet suit and he’d been trying his best to keep from noticing how the neoprene conformed to her breasts, but he failed miserably and hadn’t heard a word she'd said.

  “Abel?”

  “Huh?”

  “Could you stop staring at my boobs for five minutes and give me your undivided attention? The last thing I want is for you to drown.”

  He forced his gaze off her tits and looked her in the eyes. A smile played at her lips. She wasn’t the least bit mad at him for ogling her.

  “Dude, listen to the lady,” said a long-haired beach bum lounging on the sand nearby.

  Abel leveled the guy his steeliest military officer’s glare. The guy raised his palms and then went back to waxing his surfboard.

  “I’m listening,” Abel told Poppy.

  What a lie. His ears were attuned to the sounds of her sexy breathing, not what she was saying.

  You can handle this. You’re strong. You’re athletic. Who won MVP on your high school baseball team?

  His athleticism might help with the surfing, but how was he going to justify the erection straining against his wet suit? He needed to get into the water now before he embarrassed himself again.

  “Got it,” he said. “Let’s hit the water.”

  He turned his board to hide what he didn’t want her to see—a repeat of what had happened in yoga class— and struck out for the water.

  Look what the woman had done to him. She was going to think he was a first-class perv. He found it damned disturbing. The water splashed cool against his ankles and he was happy for the distraction, but unfortunately it did nothing to dash his rising libido when she came running up alongside him.

  “Let’s go over the basics again,” she said, summing up what she’d just taught him.

  He tried to process it, but there was so much to learn. All this time he’d thought surfing was a lawless free-for-all without structure or rules when nothing was further from the truth. He liked the discipline of it but hated being in over his head.

  “Grip your board like this,” she hollered over the sound of the waves, demonstrating the technique.

  Focus on surfing, he lectured himself, mimicking her movements and gliding into the water on his board. Captain Higgins had told him to hang out with her, watch over her, and pry as much info as he could from her about Barksdale. That did not include getting all hot and horny over his target.

  He’d never been this out of his element before, both in the surf and in this thing with Poppy. If he was smart, he’d call Higgins and tell him that he needed to put someone else on the assignment, that he couldn’t handle himself.

  Yes, that would look so professional. And what about redeeming yourself? What about catching Barksdale so that he didn’t have to feel so ashamed for letting the theft happen in the first place?

  Because he did feel responsible, even though he’d followed every protocol and done everything he could to keep the data safe. Barksdale had simply been better than the Texas Rangers. And there was the rub. Abel’s division was supposed to be the best of the best and they couldn’t stop a civilian computer hacker from stealing from the governor. Even though no one blamed him, he blamed himself. He’d failed.

  And failure wasn’t something Abel swallowed easily.

  “Here comes a nice mushy beginner’s wave,” Poppy called out. “Get ready to use the stance I showed you.”

  Stance. Right. The one he hadn’t been paying attention to because he’d been too busy ogling her. A slow rolling wave came toward them, frothy white and gentle.

  “Put your hands under your chest and raise up. Like cobra pose in yoga class.”

  Sure. He’d get right on that.

  “Push up from your hands and toes,” Poppy hollered as the wave reached them.

  He did as she said and suddenly, he was up, teetering on
the board.

  “Bring your right foot back, left foot forward.”

  For a moment he thought he was going into the ocean headfirst, but somehow, he managed to get the correct stance, bend his knees, and extend his arms for balance.

  “Look forward, eyes straight ahead, chin up.”

  That was no problem. His law enforcement training kicked in and the next thing he knew, Abel was surfing. Okay, yeah, it was the kiddie version of surfing, but he was up on the board and balanced and a wave was rolling underneath him.

  It felt like playful sex. Fun and easy.

  Poppy was on her surfboard beside him, gliding effortlessly along. “Hey, you’re a natural.”

  He grinned and for the first time in a long time, he felt truly free. And then he went and spoiled it all by losing his focus and shifting his gaze to stare at her sexy body in the wet suit and bam! Right into the water he fell.

  Luckily, she’d leashed his board to his ankle with the ankle rope. Otherwise, it would have been lost in the waves. He managed to get turned around and back on the board. His legs were already feeling rubbery—this from a guy who ran three miles a day—and he spat out a mouthful of salty seawater.

  But even so, he couldn’t stop imagining what she would look like without that wet suit on, surfing naked like Neptune’s nymph. He wondered if she had ever surfed nude. He’d bet hard money on it and Abel was not a betting man.

  Damn! He had to stop this. He lay belly down on the board and let the waves push him back to shore.

  “Where are you going?” Poppy called. “We’re just getting started.”

  No, ma’am, he was done. No way was he going to be able to keep his erection in check as long as she was wearing that skintight suit. Not even the cool waters of Texas Gulf Coast could take the starch out of his... er... sail.

  “I need a break,” he said.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “I’m going to paddle on out and see if I can catch some bigger waves.”

  No, wait. He’d thought she’d come back to shore with him. He didn’t want her going off on her own, far away from him.

  Already she was gone, swimming off on her board, out of earshot.

  Dammit. He paddled after her, getting sloshed and tossed by waves. Gritting his teeth, he barreled ahead. He was not letting her out of his sight.

  But the same currents that were carrying her out to sea, seemed to be shoving his surfboard toward the shore. Water had gotten into his ears—why hadn’t he thought to wear earplugs—and he couldn’t hear anything but the whooshing noise of the ocean and his own quickening heartbeat.

  Every time the wave lifted him up, he searched for her. She was several hundred yards away. Other surfers paddled near her. A sailboat skimmed the horizon. And there was a Jet Ski out in open waters, moving fast toward Poppy.

  Uneasiness washed over him. He didn’t like this position of weakness, not one damned bit.

  Up he went on the wave, saw the Jet Ski pulling up beside her. Salt water stung his eyes, and it was hard to see. His gut went cold. Something didn’t feel right. Was she in trouble? Had the Jet Ski rider stopped to help her? Or was there another more nefarious explanation? Could it be Barksdale?

  He didn’t know where that thought came from, but it spurred him into action. The surfboard was an encumbrance, getting in his way. He had to shed it.

  Abel reached down, stripped off the ankle rope, let go of the board and went after her, swimming against the tide with all his might.

  Chapter Ten

  Poppy was about to curl a beautiful wave when a Jet Ski zoomed up, sending her tumbling. She came up sputtering and glaring, prepared to tongue-lash the jerk for getting too close. She grabbed her board and swiped her hair from her eyes and looked up to see a man staring down at her.

  An unpleasant jolt of recognition went through her. Keith.

  “Thanks a lot for the dowsing.”

  He didn’t look the least bit contrite. “Sorry.”

  “What in the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was out jumping the waves, saw you, and came over to say hi.”

  She gripped her board tightly. “Hi, now goodbye.”

  The waves tossed him closer to her. She did not want to be near this man. Just looking at him made her ache for a hot shower. Yes, he was good-looking, but he was also a criminal and she’d stupidly dated him.

  “I’ve been trying to call you,” Keith said. “Left a message. You didn’t call me back.”

  “Are you shocked about that? Considering you left me holding the bag with the Texas Rangers. They took me in for questioning.”

  “What’d you tell them?”

  “I had nothing to tell them other than obviously I didn’t know you at all if you’d steal from your own state. What did you steal?”

  “Innocent until proven guilty,” Keith said. “But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. To apologize.”

  “Apology accepted. Now go away.” She made a shooing motion.

  “Who’s the guy you’ve been hanging out with?” Keith jerked his chin in the direction of the beach.

  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” She snorted. “You get no say in who I date.”

  “He doesn’t look like your type.”

  “Wait a minute, how do you know I’ve been hanging out with anyone?”

  “I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to you.”

  A prick of fear pierced her. “Have you been following me?”

  “I needed to see you.”

  “That’s stalking, Keith. There are laws against it. And might I remind you that you’re the one who broke up with me. Not that it really bothered me. I deserve so much better than you.”

  “Listen—”

  “So, you’ve been following me and the best place you could find to talk to me is the middle of the ocean? What’s wrong with coming to my apartment?”

  “They can’t bug the ocean.”

  “Who?”

  “The government.”

  Alarmed, she asked, “Keith, just what did you do?”

  The wind buffeted his Jet Ski even closer to her. She pushed away, disgusted with herself for having struck up a romance with him. God, what had she been thinking?

  That was it. She hadn’t been thinking. She’d just been out for a good time and look where it had gotten her. She just wanted to get back to Abel—

  Abel. She’d been so creeped out by Keith that she’d forgotten about Abel. Where was he?

  Ignoring Keith, she turned in the water, scanning toward the shore, and finally spied him several yards away giving the distress signal.

  Crap! He was in trouble.

  She turned back to Keith to ask him to take the Jet Ski over to Abel and help, but Keith was already speeding away.

  Fine. Right. Worthless asshat.

  Resolutely, she launched herself on her board and headed toward Abel.

  She caught a wave, and it only took her a couple of minutes to reach him, but the journey seemed forever. He kept going down under the waves and each time, she feared he wouldn’t come back up, but thankfully, he held on.

  “Where’s your board?” she gasped as soon as she reached him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale, his lips tinged blue. He looked exhausted.

  “Untethered it to come after you.”

  “What did you do that for?” she asked, extending her board to him so they could both hang on.

  “I thought you were in trouble. That Jet Ski came up on you and I—”

  “I was fine.”

  “How was I to know that?”

  “You thought I was in trouble and you came after me?” She felt a tugging in the center of her chest. A sweet, sappy, dangerous feeling.

  “The guy on the Jet Ski—”

  “My old boyfriend. The creep I told you about.”

  Abel turned his head to look at the departing Jet Ski that was now far in the distance. He scowled and his eyes clouded.

  Aww, was he jealous? The tugging in her che
st intensified.

  “What did he want? Did he threaten you? Hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “No, no, he just wanted to talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  Okay, that was officially none of his business. Jealousy might be cute. Possessiveness was not. Especially since she and Abel didn’t even have a relationship.

  “I don’t have to answer that.”

  “Do you still have feelings for him?”

  Poppy scowled. “What do you care?”

  “I don’t. It’s just...” He looked like he was about to say something else, and then he clenched his jaw.

  “Yes?”

  “Never mind.”

  “If you have something to say to me, just spit it out.”

  “What did he want?”

  She wasn’t going to tell him that Keith had just dropped by in the middle of the ocean to tell her that the government could very well be bugging her apartment. She was still trying to process that and how would it look to Abel if he learned she’d been mixed up with a guy who was in serious trouble with the state of Texas?

  “I’ve got nothing to say.”

  Well, that was that. Nothing to do now but head back to shore.

  They clung to the board, kicking in unison, heading back toward the beach. She was so aware of him. The water and waves and sun retreated into the background until he encompassed everything. He’d thought she was in trouble and he’d come out to help her. And he was jealous of Keith. She tried not to smile, but she couldn’t help it.

  “What are you grinning about?” He growled.

  “You.”

  “I amuse you?”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “Never had a jealous boyfriend before?”

  “You’re not my boyfriend.”

  “My loss.”

  She startled, turning to stare at him. His face was right next to hers, his dark eyes dilated. From sun, she told herself, but feared it was from something else. Something far more complicated.

  Relief rushed through her when her feet touched sand. She stood up, Abel following suit.

  “We’re here,” she said, the surfboard still between them.

  “Yeah.”

  His eyes never strayed from her face, leaving Poppy to wonder just where “here” was.