by Cate Ashwood
Beckett
The moment I laid eyes on the guy napping on my private beach, I wanted him. Bad. But living life in the spotlight means nothing is ever that simple. When Brody doesn’t recognize me, it seems like the perfect opportunity to let loose and have a little fun. Besides, what harm can come from a hookup with a clear expiry date?
Brody
A week’s vacation in Laguna Beach, California, is a dream come true for a guy like me. Born and bred in Sawyer’s Ferry, Alaska, I have more experience with snow than sand. But halfway through my holiday, I’m thinking I should have just stayed home until a day at the beach brings an unexpected—and intense—turn of events.
It might have started out as a disappointing trip, but it could end up being the best vacation I’ve ever had.
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LAGUNA
Sawyer’s Ferry Book 1.5
By Cate Ashwood
Published by Cate Ashwood
Laguna: Sawyers Ferry Book 1.5 © 2018 Cate Ashwood
This is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
All rights reserved worldwide. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
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They cannot be sold, shared, or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Help support authors by purchasing only authorized copies.
Cover Design © 2018 Cate Ashwood
http://www.cateashwooddesigns.com
Edited by One Love Editing
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Content Warning: This work is classified as a gay romance. It contains graphic language and sexual content between two adult men. Not intended for anyone under the age of 18.
CONTENTS
Become an Insider
Title
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Other Books by Cate
About the Author
Thanks
First and foremost, a huge thank you to Lucy for organizing the group giveaway that whipped my butt into shape to write this.
Secondly, thank you to all the other authors who participated. I am truly humbled to be a part of such a stellar collection of writers.
And last, but absolutely never least, thank you so much to Sandra, who has the unfortunate task of dealing with my incomprehension of every comma rule ever conceived, and who did it on a very tight deadline. I don’t have words for how much I love you.
Chapter One
Brody
My testicles were glued to the inside of my thigh.
As I waited for the pool boy to finish up with the filters, I did a covert squat to dislodge them and stood with my legs a little wider than usual to try to create space for an updraft in my shorts.
I had never sweat so much in my life as I had over the last four days, and I was seriously reconsidering California as my dream vacation. So far, the highlight of my trip had been Gouda Vibes, the grilled cheese food truck my cousin Isla had insisted we stop at on the way home from LAX.
It was well worth the detour, but not enough to make up for the parade of utter bullshit that had taken place following it.
Since arriving in Laguna Beach, Aunt Vivienne—who’d been born plain old Vivian, by the way—had thrown no fewer than three dinner parties. It’d been hours and hours of introductions to family friends and awkward small talk around the backyard pool. Mostly, her arrogant, stuck-up socialite friends had stared at me like I was some sort of sideshow freak.
I felt the same way about them with their fake almost-British accents and the way they all sat like they had a length of rebar shoved up their asses. I could imagine what they were thinking: mental congratulations to Aunt Viv for taking in the urchin from Alaska, her poor nephew from the wrong side of the tracks—or the wrong side of the 49th parallel, anyway.
I still wasn’t totally convinced that my mother and my aunt had emerged from the same uterus. In fact, they seemed to have been born on different planets. And yet, I’d never known two siblings who had a closer bond, despite the obvious differences. Maybe it was the whole “opposites attract” thing, but whatever it was, they were weirdly even closer than if they’d been born twins.
Growing up in Sawyer’s Ferry hadn’t given us the same upper-class lifestyle my extended family had, and I was okay with that. More than okay, in fact. When my mom had announced she was flying me out to California to celebrate my twenty-first birthday, I’d first been shocked that we had enough money to afford the ticket, and then once she’d assured me we could afford it, I’d been beyond pumped.
The timing couldn’t have been better, too.
My phone rang, the melody echoing off the angular stucco walls.
“Hey, dipshit.”
My best friend’s voice sounded over the line. “How’s the Golden State? Ready to cancel your return flight and live there forever?”
“It’s not what I thought it’d be.”
“You’re not having a good time?”
“It’s more of a family obligation than a holiday,” I said, half not caring that the pool boy could totally hear what I was saying. “I didn’t realize how many plans my aunt had made for me.”
“Sucks, dude. If anyone needs a fucking break…”
I winced. I knew he was referring to the unceremonious dumping I’d taken from my on-again-off-again boyfriend. Sure, I’d known it was over between me and Brandon for a while. Living thousands of miles apart wasn’t all that great on a relationship—not that we’d had much of one to begin with. Still, getting dumped the day before your birthday stung no matter what the circumstances.
“It is a break,” I insisted. “At least I’m not at work.”
“And your aunt can’t be worse than Ray.”
“I dunno about that. In the world of grumpy fucker bosses, Ray holds the international title, but my aunt has her own set of… unique traits.”
“She can’t be that—”
“She’s tried to dress me more than once in clothes she bought me. Said my regular ones were ‘unkempt’ and these were much more ‘fitting of a young gentleman,’” I said, mimicking the high-pitched whine she used when she was being extra judgmental. “It’s like living in 1945 or some shit.”
“You’re fucking joking.”
“Swear I’m not. I couldn’t believe it when I walked into the room and they were all laid out on the bed for me.” My own mother had stopped picking my clothes out somewhere around the third grade.
“Even with all that,” Mason said, “at least you’re down there, baking in the sun. There’s isn’t a goddamn soul in Sawyer’s Ferry who wouldn’t wanna switch places with you. It’s been raining for days with no end in sight.”
“I have yet to set foot on a beach.” Yeah, it was better than the rain, but all I wanted to do was spend an afternoon on the sand.
“At the risk of repeating myself… you’re fucking joking.�
�
“Swear I’m not,” I echoed. “I’m not counting the ten minutes we spent eating grilled cheese in L.A.” I was itching to get out on my own, so much I could almost taste it.
“Broderick!” I cringed. My mom hadn’t been pretentious enough to actually name me something as god-fucking-awful as Broderick, but Vivienne insisted it was much less low-brow than my actual name.
“Broderick?” Mason mocked.
“Fuck off,” I told him. “I gotta go.”
“Go to the beach. I’ll kick your ass if you get back here and you didn’t go to the goddamn beach.”
I hung up and walked back into the house to find Aunt Viv standing over the sink, sipping the last of some sludge-like smoothie.
“I have some terrible news.” She set the glass down and turned to face me with a dramatic flair that wouldn’t have been out of place on the daytime soaps she spent most afternoons watching. “The foundation in New York has suffered a bit of a hiccup. I must see to finding a replacement director of communications, and unfortunately it cannot wait until next week. I’m leaving immediately.”
“For New York,” I said, piecing it together through the excitement rushing through my brain.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
I tried not to let the complete fucking elation show through. I shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m sure I can find something to do.”
“Are you certain you’ll be okay here on your own? I could always book another seat to New York,” Viv said brightly. “It would be a two-in-one vacation for you. You could get some culture—experience the metropolitan life!”
“I’m good, Aunt Viv. I’m just gonna bum around here for a couple of days… work on my tan. Relax a little.”
“If you’re absolutely sure…”
She didn’t sound sure at all, but I’d never been so positive in my life. “I am. I’ll be fine. Really. And Isla is a phone call away if something goes wrong.” I walked across the kitchen, trying to remain as casual as I could. “Which it won’t.”
“All right. I’ve left you all my contact numbers, and you have Isla’s.”
“Yes.” I nodded emphatically. “I have Isla’s.”
She exhaled with force and glanced at her phone screen. “My car is here. I’ve got to run, but I’ll be home in plenty of time to see you off on Monday.”
Grabbing her keys from the oversized white granite island in the center of the kitchen, she rested her hand on her pant-suited hip. “Call if you need anything.”
“I will,” I promised.
She kissed me goodbye, and I could feel the vibrant pink lip print she’d left on my cheek.
Sweet bliss.
Two. Whole. Fucking. Days.
The house was empty, quiet, and the whole atmosphere of the place changed as soon as Viv was out of it. I wasted no time in running upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, and stripping out of the freshly pressed polo shirt and god-awful striped shorts that had probably cost more than my rent.
I walked around my room, hands behind my head, letting the climate-controlled air kiss every inch of my sweaty skin. I needed to let my balls breathe for half a second before stepping into my navy-blue swim shorts. I didn’t bother with a shirt, considering I’d be on the beach in a matter of minutes, so once I was dressed, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, tucked a towel under my arm, and headed out, pulling the door shut and engaging the electronic lock behind me.
Aunt Viv’s place was perched up on a hill in a gated community. Although I had yet to set foot on the sand, I could see the beach from all twelve of the picture windows that wrapped the front of the house, and I figured it wouldn’t take me more than a few minutes to get there.
As I walked, I saw no fewer than three Bentleys and two Jaguars. I tried to imagine what my little rusted-out Subaru would look like cruising down this hill, but somehow, I couldn’t picture it. My aunt’s neighborhood was a nice place to visit, but I didn’t know if I could spend longer than a week here without going completely insane.
It all melted away as I stepped down onto the sand, kicking my flip-flops off the second I did. I twisted my feet, burying my toes and letting the heat sink through my skin. The sun seemed brighter here, and the scent of the ocean wrapped around me.
“You gonna move, or what?”
I turned around to see a couple coming down the steps behind me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, shuffling to the side so I didn’t block the entrance. The guy’s neck was wider than his head, and the woman’s crisp white bathing suit made her look extra tanned. She adjusted her sunglasses as she breezed past me, flipping her hair and swaying her hips as she trotted across the sand.
I’d been so focused on the water, I hadn’t noticed the beach was fucking packed. People, some of them clustered in groups, were spread out from where I stood right to the edge of the water, a wave of towels, umbrellas, and blankets dotted every so often with a lopsided sandcastle or two.
Scanning the area, I noticed a small outcropping of rocks a few yards away. It was a natural wall, the tail of it disappearing into the sea. Just beyond it appeared to be a stretch of untouched sand. I wondered why no one had ventured over to claim the empty space, but I wasn’t going to question it too hard. I made my way over there, avoiding stepping on people as I weaved between families.
My first step into the ocean seemed like almost a religious experience. Although it was the same body of water, getting mowed down by a wave on board my boat was totally different than wading out into the almost-warm surf of the California coast. I let the tide lap at my ankles for a few moments before I waded past the rocks and onto the semisecluded beach.
I chose a spot, hidden from the beachgoers on the other side of the rocks but still in full sun. There, I spread out my towel and reclined back on it, wiggling until the sand beneath me had conformed to my body. The sound of children laughing and playing in the water had faded away the farther away I got from the beach access point, and now all I could hear was the sound of the ocean and the calls of the seagulls that flew close by.
This was by far the best thing I’d done since arriving in California.
This is what I’d come for.
I closed my eyes, wishing that if I thought hard enough, I could slow time down, spend more than the few hours here I’d planned. I matched my breathing to the rhythm of the waves, and before long, I’d fallen asleep.
Cold water splattering across my forehead woke me with a start. I opened my eyes to see a man standing over me, his body haloed by the sun shining above him. I blinked twice, still trying to make sense of what was happening when another droplet fell from his wet hair, sending a chill through me.
He leaned in closer, and his face came into view.
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. My heart raced faster as he peered at me, his bright blue eyes almost too vivid to be natural, and I felt the heat of his gaze sear right through me.
“You’re trespassing.”
Chapter Two
Beck
Moments ago, the man had been sleeping, his hands tucked behind his head, his lean body stretched out on the colorful towel beneath him. I’d hesitated to wake him, but I couldn’t take any chances with people on the property. I’d been burned more than once with trespassers who weren’t as innocent as they seemed.
“What?” He scrambled to sit up.
I scanned his body, looking for evidence of a camera or other recording device, my eyes catching on his defined muscles and smooth skin as I surveyed him. Though I didn’t see anything suspicious, I had a hard time looking away.
“You’re on my beach,” I said, belatedly finding my train of thought.
“Your beach…”
I nodded toward the house behind me. “I own that.” I gestured at the sand where he’d been lying. “And this.”
“I didn’t realize…”
I looked him over, trying to decide if he was sincere or not, but he seeme
d genuinely perplexed. I’d chased paparazzi off my property more times than I could count. They tended to get creative when they really wanted the inside scoop, but I didn’t get the impression he was a reporter or photographer.
He didn’t look like the typical SoCal dude camped out in front of my place. For one thing, he looked like today was the first time he’d ever actually seen the sun. Scruff covered his jaw, probably an attempt to make him look older than he was. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three.
The longer I looked at him, the harder my stomach twisted, attraction and a simmering lust rolling through me. It’d been a long time since I’d had a reaction like this to another man—a response so visceral that it almost knocked me sideways.
He gathered his towel from the sand, bunching it and shoving it under his arm, his movements flustered.
“Sorry,” he muttered and turned back toward the public beach behind me, but before he could make it more than a couple of steps, I grabbed his arm and his gaze darted to the spot where I held him.
I dropped my hand. “What’s your name?”
“Brody.” His eyes met mine. He’d hesitated before answering, and I wondered if he thought I was going to call the cops on him. I smiled, trying to put him at ease.
“I’m Beck.” I paused, my gaze carefully trained on his face, looking for signs of recognition, but if he’d realized who I was, his expression hadn’t given anything away.
I wasn’t sure why I was bothering. With a week left before my next contract was set to start, I was enjoying my final few days of relaxation. Soon enough, it would be sixteen-hour days of intense scheduling with no breaks for the next three months. I should have let him go and gone back to surfing. The waves were perfect for it, and I was wasting daylight, but there was something about him that pulled at me and I couldn’t explain it.
Maybe it was the way he looked at me, his eyes intense, his gaze trained on me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Or maybe it was the way he moved, the juxtaposition of quiet shyness with rough masculinity. He seemed to possess both in equal measure, and it made me curious.
