Waves of Romance: Contemporary Romance (Holidays Beach Read Book 2)

by Lori Ann Mitchell

  “Nineteen,” she said, peering slightly up at him as they drifted deeper into the water. “You?”

  “Old enough to be the RA at your freshman dorm when you graduate this year,” he chuckled, pausing to teach her how to slide under and out the other side of their first wave.

  She was even more beautiful wet, the water beading on her young, flawless skin, blond hair slicked back against her head, showing off her gorgeous blue eyes between radiant lashes. “I just graduated,” she said, finger combing her hair back and smiling at him. “Besides, Derek, I like older men.”

  A wave brushed against them then, knocking her into him. Her body warm, her skin wet, she clung longer than she should have. Derek admired her enthusiasm, but at the same time shrank from it.

  “That’s funny,” he said, climbing atop his board. “I like older women.”

  Colby Weathers literally winced. “What? Why?” she said, climbing atop his board and facing him as they both floated in the nearly flat ocean. Her tone had a vaguely “eeewwww” expression to it.

  He chuckled. “The same reason you like older guys, I suppose.”

  “But, older guys are cool,” she said, straddling her board, as he was, with legs spread on either side.

  “So are older women,” he insisted. “And even if they weren’t, I’m kind of seeing one right now, so… we should put the brakes on whatever… this… is right here.”

  She grabbed the tip of his board and, playfully, tugged herself closer. Then closer still. Her skin was bronze in the midday sun, beads of water caressing it as they bobbed in the clear blue water, breasts tenderly rising and falling with each slowly cresting wave, tender nipples rasping gently against the clingy wet fabric of her bikini top.

  “You sure about that?” she asked, biting her lower lip like maybe that was something she’d seen in a music video and thought it looked sexy.

  It did, of course, but… he wasn’t going to risk everything he had with Sage over some blond beach bunny with big tits and a come hither smile. “Nothing personal,” he said, gently pushing her board away. “But yeah, I’m positive.”

  She splashed him playfully. “I’ve heard that before.”

  “Yeah?” he teased her, not waiting to hurt her feelings. “You do this often?”

  “Only when I see something I really want,” she said, turning from an approaching wave and readying herself as if she actually knew what she was doing. He watched as, instinctively, she paddled forward, just in time to catch the wave’s subtle swell. It carried her forward, effortlessly, as she just as effortlessly gripped the sides of her board and stood, swooping down just as the wave crested it and riding it flawlessly until she slid from the board in the choppy surf.

  That was no beginner’s move, he realized, as she grabbed her board and paddled back out to him. That was a pro move, made by someone who’d been surfing for years. So, he wondered, why the hell had she signed up for the course in the first place?

  As she approached, Derek wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed… or ticked off. He decided to be both for the rest of the lesson…

  Chapter 3:

  Sage

  “So ladies,” Derek began as darkness crouched outside the plate glass windows all along the front side of Sequels. “Thanks for signing up for my latest course, Creative Writing 101.”

  He paused to grab a drink from the stool situated next to him, as the crowd of eight die hard “Derek fans” applauded dutifully. Most of them were taking notes, either on a laptop, tablet or the legal pad on their laps. “I don’t claim to be any great novelist,” he said, winking at Sage as she stood nearby, wiping down the bakery counter, “but at least I’ll be able to answer some of the writing questions many of you were asking during my publishing seminar last month…”

  There were splatters of laughter as the women all blushed and gushed. Sage could hardly blame them. Derek looked radiant in black slacks and a thin grey turtleneck that hugged his surfer’s frame. The sleeves were rolled up and, since he was referring to his notes on the podium in front of him, he was wearing his old fashioned, black framed reading glasses that made him look completely adorable, extra sexy and all but irresistible.

  Sage sighed and brewed extra coffee for the mid-lecture break. She had already lined up a dozen scones, half-iced, half un-iced and, as the coffee brewed, had little to do but wander the floor and address any customers who might wander in.

  “Too bad I can’t sign up for his course,” said Colby Weathers, her newest assistant manager and resident femme fatale. Like Derek, she was radiant in her youth and glowing suntan, giving her flawless skin a caramel glow and accenting her other “assets” as well.

  “You don’t need to,” Sage chuckled, nodding toward an empty seat at the end of the last row. “You’re literally getting paid to watch him speak.”

  Colby pouted, looking at the silent cash register. “But what if a customer comes in?” she whined. Sage sighed to herself, but smiled just the same.

  “Are you a writer?” she asked, curious as to why Colby was suddenly so interested in attending Derek’s latest seminar.

  A brief look, just a flash, of impatience or perhaps even annoyance, crossed her face before she scrubbed it clean. “Hello?” she said, trying to sound like she was joking, though her tone was as impatient as her expression had just been. “Why do you think I’ve always worked in bookstores?”

  Sage didn’t feel the need to remind her that, at the tender age of nineteen, she’d worked in exactly two bookstores – and one was Sequels. Instead she sighed and waved her hand toward the vacant seat. “It’ll probably be a slow night anyway,” she said, overstating the obvious. Anytime there was a seminar, regular customers tended to stay away. That is, except for those in attendance. “Why don’t you sit in and soak up all Derek has to offer.”

  “With pleasure,” she said, darting away so fast, and sounding so sassy, Sage suddenly suspected she was less interested in honing her creative writing skills and more fascinated with scoping out Derek’s, er, speaking skills.

  As the lecture wore on and Derek handed out useful little nuggets about journaling, world building and self-editing, Sage couldn’t get the flash of emotion that crossed Colby’s face out of her mind. It was like a bell she couldn’t un-ring, a single crack in the otherwise seemingly perfect façade Colby projected in her attempt to be the best little assistant manager ever.

  Partly, it amused her. She’d seen Colby’s type before: Young, perfect, ambitious, relentlessly fixed on their careers and self-interests to the exclusion of actually, you know, doing the hard work required to succeed. Colby had presented herself as an experienced bookseller with “tons of experience” and yet, in the week she’d worked for Sage, she’d hardly been a beacon of knowledge for the customers she waited on.

  She knew a lot about the genres she read, which apparently included young adult vampire and zombie stories, and not a lot about a whole lot else except magazines. She knew a lot about magazines. Fashion magazines. Oh… and surfing magazines. Maybe that’s why she was so interested in Derek, Sage rationalized, watching the young girl watch him.

  But the more she watched Colby watch Derek, Sage knew in her gut it was more than that. The girl was positively lusting after the night’s guest speaker, and didn’t care who knew it – Sage included.

  The fact that she looked downright disgustingly sexy in a short white skirt and peacock blue sleeveless silk blouse made it abundantly clear that something was happening. And Colby wasn’t alone in making the observation.

  As Derek spoke, he liked to make eye contact with his participants. He was very generous that way, going from row to row, seat to seat, smiling warmly and nodding as he spoke, and often fielding questions before, during and after each lesson. It was all very casual and, by now, Sage, Derek and his regular participants knew – and appreciated – the easy ebb and flow of his speaking patterns. Everyone felt included and, for that very reason, welcome, which is probably why the same doz
en or so people tended to show up for each presentation.

  But tonight, he seemed particularly fixated on Colby’s attentions. Whether it was the way she leaned forward in her chair, frequently licked her lips or crossed – then uncrossed – her long, willowy legs or the way her clingy blouse revealed more than enough cleavage for passersby outside the store to notice, Derek was definitely off his game.

  He stumbled a few times, a first, chuckling and blushing and looking past the other participants, at Colby who looked, if anything, satisfied with the ripple effects she was sending through the room.

  Grumpily, Sage returned behind the bakery counter to prepare for the mid-lecture break. As always, the coffee was ready and the scones were laid out by the time Derek announced the break. As always, she was ready with a paper plate, a matching napkin and a smile for each participant, dishing up goodies and treats as the women helped themselves to steaming cups of Sage’s own “Beach Blend” coffee.

  Usually, Derek sidled over, long limbed and goofy as he asked her how he’d just done. But tonight he’d barely made it off the podium before Colby assaulted him, twirling her sun bleached blond hair around one sexy finger and shifting from foot to foot as she jiggled those—

  “Is it me,” asked local busybody Daisy Parkinson, crumbs on her lower lip as she interrupted Sage’s internal tirade, “or does Derek seem particularly… distracted… tonight?”

  “Maybe too much sun while surfing today?” Sage offered, inanely, knowing what Daisy was really getting at. As if for emphasis, one of her best, and most annoying, customers nodded toward Derek and Colby clustered together near the podium and said, “More like too much adoration from a certain young female fan. Now, aren’t you two an item—”

  “Don’t listen to her,” interrupted Maggie Grace, swatting Daisy on the wide shoulder of her generous purple and blue polka dot house dress. “Every one’s entitled to an off night, right?”

  “If you say so,” grumbled Daisy, grabbing an extra scone and swishing back to her seat in the front row where she was more than happy to ogle Derek to her heart’s content.

  “She really is an old crone,” Maggie said, setting her coffee cup and patting Sage’s hand. Maggie was in her mid-forties and owned Suds & Duds, the beauty salon-slash-second hand store three doors down from Sequels. Sage had known her for years and, while not exactly BFFs, they were more than friends – something like comrades, popping in and out of each other’s stores several times a week and doing their best to promote each other’s businesses whenever they could.

  “She’s not wrong though,” Sage sighed, squeezing her friend’s hand. “Just look at them.”

  Maggie turned her head to follow Sage’s and they both saw Colby do the patented “giggle, lean forward and hair flip” move, universal sign for “I am SO into you.” Like a freshman on his first day of high school, Derek seemed to be eating it up. What’s worse, he seemed to be oblivious of the fact that most of the other women had finished their break and returned to their seats, thereby giving him and Colby an audience.

  Turning back to each other, Maggie could only frown and mumble “Ouch” helplessly.

  “Isn’t she supposed to be working tonight?” Maggie asked knowingly, spotting the green and white “Sequels” nametag on her shirt.

  “I gave her the night off to watch Derek,” Sage said, realizing now how stupid it sounded the minute the words left her lips.

  “Wow,” Maggie said sarcastically. “Good thinking there, Sage.”

  “Well, it’s too late to rein her in now I suppose.” They were interrupted by Colby laughing – bellowing was more like it – at something Derek had just said.

  “No it isn’t,” Maggie said, shaking her head. “You’re the boss, remember?”

  Sage nodded. “But, how do I get her off Derek’s tail without looking bitchy?” she asked, before adding, “Or jealous? Or like a jealous bitch?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Just tell her FedEx mixed up an order and you need to go down there to sort it out.”

  “At this hour?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I use it on my girls all the time,” she explained, “and they never bat an eye.”

  “Yeah, well, your girls aren’t nineteen-year old sharpies looking to score,” Sage chuckled.

  “You want to me to get her over here so you can wheel and deal?” Maggie said, putting her foot down. “Or you want to stand here making excuses all night while her bazooms magically hypnotize Derek into a prepubescent teenager?”

  Sage chuckled, untying her apron and smiling. “Send her over then, Maggie,” she said, “and let’s show them how us older gals operate.”

  Sage was grabbing her purse when Colby appeared, smiling stiffly. “Maggie said you… wanted to see me?”

  “I’m sorry,” Sage said, hating to lie but hating a hussy more and thus choosing the lesser of two evils. “I just got word that a shipment I’ve been waiting on is down at FedEx and I really want the customer to be able to pick it up tomorrow, so…”

  “Can’t it wait?” she asked, her smile never moving.

  “Well, Colby, if it could, I wouldn’t be racing out of here at six-thirty to catch them before they close at seven.”

  Wow, Sage wondered to herself. Where did that come from?

  Colby bit her lower lip and pouted. “Okay, well, I guess if you’re not here to man the register, that means I’m going to miss the second half of Derek’s presentation.”

  Sage could hardly believe her ears. “Colby, we’re standing five feet from him. You’ll be able to hear every word.”

  “Yeah,” she said, as Sage reached for her keys, “but it’s not his words I’m interested in.”

  Chapter 4:

  Derek

  “Where’d you run off to tonight?” Derek asked as he helped break down the folding chairs after his presentation.

  The store was closed, Colby had (finally) left and the other guests along with her. Now Sage and Derek worked, awkwardly, putting the store back like it was before his lecture. Normally, Derek liked this part of the night, the store to themselves, the feeling like they were kids playing house as they wandered the empty store, the lights dimmed so no one would bother them, snacking on the leftover treats, their work done for the night.

  But tonight was different, and he found the vibe inside of Sequels sullen and anxious, wired and off-putting. He didn’t think it was his imagination, either. Sage had been distant all night, not her usual cheery, supportive self, both during his talk and after. And she’d never left during one of his seminars before; ever.

  “Something with an order down at FedEx,” she mumbled, rearranging a stack of books she’d taken down to move a display table back by the window.

  “Couldn’t you have sent Colby instead?” he asked.

  She clucked, not answering him.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, tone a little sharper than he’d intended.

  They were basically done, the lights dim, the store feeling empty and cold as they made sure everything was in place for the store opening the next morning.

  “Nothing,” she said, returning to the bakery counter to wipe it down one last time before sealing up the treats for the night. “I just, it was hard enough to get Colby back to work tonight, let alone to leave the store while you were speaking.”

  He grunted, under his breath, but they were standing so close he knew she could hear him. “That’s not my fault,” he huffed, feeling stupid and guilty for how he’d acted that night.

  Though he enjoyed public speaking, especially with a small crowd like the ones that always came back for more at Sequels, he wasn’t very good at it. One on one he could charm the pants off anybody, but two on one – let alone half a dozen or more on one – and he got nervous quick.

  Then add Colby, with her scoop neck blouse and delicious tits, that shimmering copper skin and those long, shapely legs crossing and uncrossing and re-crossing as he caught a glimpse of aqua-colored panties every time. He was surprised h
e made it through his lesson, let alone speaking English!

  “Who’s fault was it, Derek?” she asked.

  Sage stood by the counter, rag in hand, fist gripped tightly around it. Her nostrils flared gently, lips tight beneath her flowing red hair. He wanted to say, “You look gorgeous when you’re jealous,” but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. That she might, in fact, wind up and toss the limp rag right at his stupid, smug face.

  “Sage, listen…”

  She put the rag down and crossed her arms over her boyish chest, signaling both her impatience… and her irritation. “I’m listening, Derek.”

  “Colby’s young,” he said, “like, really young. Naturally, she’s confused.”

  “Is that what you kids are calling it these days?” she asked.

  He shook his head, flustered. There was no way to have this kind of conversation without sounding conceited, flattered, insensitive… or all of the above. “It happens, you know, these surf babes get star struck. I could be anybody, you know, they just want another notch on their belt.”

  “They may want another notch on their belt,” Sage said, reaching for her purse. “But you don’t have to give it to them. And especially not so… obviously… Derek.”

  “I didn’t,” Derek huffed. “I made it very clear the other day I wanted nothing do with her, and… and…” His voice trailed off, Sage’s eyes growing wider with each syllable.

  “What other day?” she asked, putting her purse on the countertop – the one she’d never wiped down after all the rag wringing.

  Derek shook his head, groaning inside. He knew it was a stupid thing to say the minute it was out of his mouth hole. He just… he’d never had to censor himself with Sage before, and wasn’t sure how to do it anymore. “She signed up for one of my classes,” he confessed, wearing a hangdog expression.

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Why would I?” he asked her. “Why should I? You never ask about the twenty other kids who sign up.”