by Tawna Fenske
He’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his whole life.
He fired off a final shot and stuffed his camera back in its bag. Zipping it up, he strode over to her and smiled. “You look like you could use a shower.”
She grinned and looked down at herself. “I wasn’t planning to get involved in the paintball portion of the ceremony, but it looked like too much fun.”
“Can’t say I blame you. I almost wish you hadn’t instituted a don’t-shoot-the -photographer rule.”
“It’s a rule I insist on at all my weddings,” she said. “Along with ‘don’t pet the badgers’ and ‘don’t startle the sword swallower.’”
“Good rules to have,” Grant said, thinking how much he’d like to pull her into the shower and press her up against the wall, cupping her soapy breasts from behind as he drove into her and—
“Have you ever done that before?” she asked.
“What?” Grant swallowed, wondering for a moment if she’d read his thoughts.
“That,” she said, pointing out across the river beyond the wedding site. A pair of standup paddleboarders glided slowly across the water, their paddles making ripples on the surface of the Wailua. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” she said. “It looks like so much fun.”
“It just so happens I have two boards at home.”
“Two?”
He shrugged. “I bought an extra so my brother can join me when he visits.”
“Schwartz?”
The word hit him like a punch in his gut, and it took him a couple beats to catch his breath. “No, Mac. Schwartz doesn’t visit.”
Her cheeks pinkened a little at that, and she glanced away. “Sorry, of course. Your mom and sister were talking the other morning about Schwartz. Is he coming to the wedding?”
Grant swallowed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. My mom asked me to invite him, but—” Grant cleared his throat again. “Come on. You can shower at my place while I grab the boards out of storage. I’ll have you paddling like a pro in no time.”
“Really?”
“Sure. You’re done here, right?”
“Pretty much. Janelle volunteered for cleanup duty again, so I just need to pay the DJ and say good-bye to the bride and groom.”
“Go do that and I’ll pull the car around.”
Anna grinned and looked down at herself. “I don’t think you want me on your upholstery with all this paint on my clothes.”
“Good point. You should take them off.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nice try.”
“Okay, fine. I have a tarp in back we can use to cover the seats.”
“You take the Boy Scout motto pretty seriously,” she said, stepping away from him as she waved to the bride. “Be prepared.”
“Not always,” Grant murmured, watching her walk away from him as he considered how very unprepared he was to have Anna in his life. How unworthy of having someone willing to trust him with her darkest secret when he couldn’t do the same for her.
Once she’d bid farewell to the wedding party and climbed into the car, Grant drove back to his place. Back at the house, he fought the urge to join her in the shower and fulfill his soapy fantasies. He wanted nothing more than to slide into the shower beside her, to let his hands slick over her breasts and hips and ass.
But something told him to keep his distance. He’d seen the look in her eye, and he’d felt the stirring of something sharp and terrifying in himself.
Keep your distance. Don’t fall for her, dumbass.
So Grant busied himself getting the paddleboards out of storage while Anna stripped off her paint-stained clothes and climbed naked and beautiful into the shower. Or at least that’s what Grant imagined. He imagined it so thoroughly that he was half-hard by the time she emerged from the bathroom.
He was fully hard the instant he saw her in a bikini.
“Jesus.”
Anna laughed and did a small pirouette. “You like it? I wasn’t sure red was my color, but I got it on sale before the trip. It’s a little skimpier than I’d normally wear, but Janelle insisted.”
“God bless your sister.”
She grinned and closed the distance between them. His hand went around her automatically, pressing into the small of her back where a small tattoo of a goldfish swam across her spine. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, and Grant kissed her back, hating how traitorously his body craved her, even while his brain was screaming at him to keep his distance.
Thankfully, Anna was first to draw back.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to get all relationshipy on you. I appreciated how we kept things professional at the wedding. I just wanted a kiss.”
“Not a problem,” Grant said, wondering if he should kiss her again or run like hell.
“Come on. I’m excited to learn to standup paddle. Are we going out on the ocean right out here?”
“No, it’s too rough here. Hanalei Bay is perfect, especially this time of day. I’ve already got the boards on the roof rack, and it’s only a twenty-minute drive.”
“Excellent!” she called, and skipped off ahead of him, her flip-flops smacking the ground while his heart did the same against his rib cage.
They talked easily all the way to Hanalei, with Grant pointing out landmarks and favorite restaurants and Anna chattering about his sister’s wedding. “It’s coming together nicely,” she said, brushing her red-gold hair behind her ears. “I think your mom felt a little ripped off when Mac and Kelli decided to go for a spur-of-the-moment, family-only kinda wedding, so she’s making sure Sheri’s wedding is a grander affair. Your sister’s been great to work with, by the way. Super down-to-earth and not the least bit bridezilla.”
“My sister’s pretty easygoing,” Grant said. “She probably had to be, growing up with so many brothers.”
“Who was she closest to?” Anna asked.
Grant felt tension prickle his arms as he scouted for a parking spot. “I was the youngest by eleven months, so she mostly saw me as the baby. Well, at least until high school when I grew a foot taller and started bench-pressing her as a stunt at family barbecues. And Mac—well, he was a lot older than the rest of us. He left home right away and spent a lot of time overseas with military operations. You know Mac—he’s not exactly the warm and cuddly teddy-bear type.”
“Like you?” she asked, grinning at him. “That’s exactly the phrase Kelli used to describe you before we ever met—the big-teddy-bear brother.”
Grant smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or take it as an insult to my masculinity.”
“No insult intended. Teddy bears are sexy.”
“I’ll try not to think about that the next time I buy one for my nephews.”
Anna laughed as Grant angled into a parking spot. “So Schwartz? That’s who Sheri was closest to?”
Grant swallowed and pulled the parking break. “I guess so. When we were younger, anyway. Probably not as close as he and I were, but pretty close. I imagine it was tough for her being the only girl.”
She studied him, and Grant focused on not blinking, not showing any signs of discomfort. When she nodded, he felt a twinge of relief. “Just trying to get a read on the family dynamic here.”
“Good luck with that,” he said, and pushed open his door.
He began unhooking the boards from the top of the car, while Anna busied herself grabbing the paddles he pointed out in the back of the rig. By the time they were out on the water’s edge, Grant was feeling hot and sweaty.
He was pretty sure it was the sun and not the sight of Anna moving around in that red bikini.
They carried the boards out into the water, and Grant showed her how to lay the paddle perpendicular across the front.
“Okay, you want to start out on your knees,” Grant said, demonstrating the position as he used one hand to hold her board steady.
“I find starting out on my knees usually helps speed things along,” she said, givi
ng him a salacious grin. “Sorry, I’ve been spending too much time around Kelli.”
“Or too much time on your knees.” He grinned back. “Never mind, no such thing. Okay, brace the paddle across the front of the board like this. You can use that as a support system to get yourself standing upright, or you can stay down on your knees for a while to get used to the feel of being on the board.”
“No, I want to try standing,” she said, scrunching her face into a look of intense concentration as she followed his directions and got to her feet. She wobbled a little at first, then stood strong, her knees bent a little as she got her balance. “Hey, this isn’t as hard as it looks.”
“It’s harder in a bay like this than it is on a river or a lake,” he said, admiring her form. Well, admiring her body, too, but also her form. “You’ve got great balance.”
“Thanks. Fifteen years of yoga. Remind me sometime to show you how I can put my ankles behind my head.”
She gave him another grin, and Grant tried to decide if she was kidding or not. Probably not, he decided, watching the limber way she maneuvered on the board, starting to paddle before he even had a chance to show her how.
“You’re a natural,” he said, dipping his own paddle into the water to keep up with her. “Change your grip up like this and you’ll have more control.”
“Like this?”
“Perfect. And you want the blade of the paddle facing the other way. An easy way to remember is to always have the logo facing forward. It’ll give you more power on your stroke.”
“Got it,” she said, and mimicked his movements exactly. “Hey, this is fun.”
They paddled in silence for a bit, with Anna testing out different strokes and wobbling only a little when a small wave caught her board. Grant gave her a few more pointers and then dropped back, letting her get the hang of things on her own. She had a real knack for the sport.
He kept himself a few strokes behind her, admiring the curve of her backside and the scattering of tattoos on her body. He’d been too preoccupied to study them when he’d had her naked in his bed the other day. There was the feather on her ankle, a sunflower on her shoulder blade, the goldfish in the small of her back, and some more ink on the left side of her rib cage that must have hurt like hell.
“What’s the significance of the starfish?” he called, gesturing to her ribs as he angled his board past her.
“There’s this story about a guy walking down the beach and seeing a kid standing on the shore surrounded by all these starfish that have washed up on the beach,” she began, driving her paddle into the water to turn. “The guy walks up and says, ‘What are you doing?’ and the kid says, ‘I’m throwing starfish back in the water so they don’t die.’ The guy looks at him like he’s fucking crazy, right? ‘There are thousands of starfish here, and they’re drying out and dying in the sun as we speak. You can’t possibly make a difference.’” Anna drove her paddle into the water again, turning so she faced him. “The kid looks at him, picks up another starfish, and chucks it into the ocean. ‘Made a difference to that one.’”
Grant felt a prickle of emotion snake its way up his arms, and her gaze held his as she smiled. “I always liked that story,” she said. “I got the tattoo as a reminder never to lose sight of the small ways I can make a difference in people’s lives, whether I’m doing my job or going about my day-to-day life.”
“Wow,” Grant said, finding his words at last. “And you call me a Boy Scout. That’s pretty admirable. Great artwork, too.”
“Thanks!” she said, grinning as she switched sides with her paddle, driving the blade into the water to keep herself headed straight. “It’s my favorite of the four. Do you just have the one on your arm?”
“Yeah. Got it during basic training. It’s the Marine Corps emblem, along with some other custom details. I got it after my first tour.”
“Yeah?”
She seemed to be waiting for him to share more, but Grant didn’t want to go there. He’d rather hear about her.
He drove his paddle into the water, catching up to her easily. “I have to admit, I haven’t dated a lot of women with ink.”
She grinned and looked at him. “Are we dating? I thought we were just fucking.”
Grant lost his balance. He started to catch himself, swaying like a drunk guy in a bouncy house, but the wind caught him just right and down he went.
Splash!
The ankle leash on his board kept it from getting away, and the water only came up to his shoulders, but still. He came up sputtering to find Anna laughing so hard she was doubled at the waist.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh.”
“Yes you do,” Grant said, spitting out a mouthful of saltwater as he grinned at her.
“You’re so easily shocked, I can’t help it.”
“I’m not normally,” he said, ducking under his board and resurfacing beside hers. “It’s the bluntness that gets me. You can fire a rocket launcher ten feet away and I swear I won’t flinch.”
“I’ll try to remember to pick up a rocket launcher the next time I’m at Walmart.”
Grant grinned and looked up at her legs. God, she was beautiful. He remembered the feel of those legs wrapped around his back and he wanted her all over again. Badly.
“For the record,” he said. “We’re not just fucking.”
“No?”
“No. I don’t know what we’re doing, exactly, but it’s more than that. We also have an excellent professional relationship.”
“Can’t argue with that,” she said, dipping her paddle in the water to hold the board steady. “Are you going to demonstrate how to get back up on your board?”
“Nope.” He reached up and caught her ankle. “I’m going to teach you how to fall.”
She shrieked with surprise as Grant tugged her leg. She toppled toward him, and Grant caught her easily with one arm, relishing the warmth of her body and the smell of her shampoo as she splashed, laughing against his chest.
“Jerk!” she yelled, her laughter contradicting any genuine annoyance.
“Sorry,” he said, not the least bit sorry. She felt damn good wet and wriggling in his arms. He let go of her with one arm and grabbed her paddle, setting it on top of his board beside his own so it wouldn’t get away. Her board was still tethered to her ankle, just like his was, so they weren’t going anywhere.
He wrapped his arms around her again, pretty sure he’d never felt anything so deliciously perfect in his life. They bobbed together like that for a moment, the ocean water making a soothing cocoon around their bodies. The sun was warm on his back, and he filled his lungs with the heady scent of ocean air and something coconuty in Anna’s sunscreen. A pack of surfers chased waves off in the distance, and only one lone fisherman had nabbed a spot on the pier.
He’d never seen the place this quiet.
“This is nice,” she said, looking up at him. “The water feels so good. So warm.”
“Mmmhmm,” Grant replied. He should probably let her go. He’d do it in just a minute. The way she moved against him was making all the blood leave his brain to occupy another part of his body that was probably becoming damn obvious to her by now.
As though reading his thoughts, Anna grinned and wrapped her legs around his waist. She pressed her lower body against him, hands on his shoulders, as her eyes flashed with something that drained the last teaspoon of blood from his brain.
“Is that a tube of sunscreen in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”
“If I weren’t a gentleman, I’d suggest you squeeze it and find out.”
She laughed, throwing her head back in a way that made him want to devour her shoulders and neck and throat and collarbones. He moved his hands to her butt, holding her against his growing arousal. He glanced behind her toward the pier. It was thirty feet away, so even if someone strolled out there, they probably couldn’t see beneath the water. Still.
“Grant?”
“Hmm?”
�
��This bikini’s pretty tiny.”
“Thank God,” he murmured, pressing himself against her.
“But it might surprise you to know it has a pocket.”
The randomness of her words surprised him enough that he tore his eyes off the pier. He blinked at her, the paddleboard bumping against his elbow. “What?”
“A pocket. In the back of my bikini bottoms. It’s probably supposed to hold a car key or something, but you know what else it can hold?”
The grin had spread wide across her face, and Grant’s balls ached at the thought of her spreading anything else for him. He slid his hand to the spot just below the small of her back and felt the crinkle of cellophane.
“You didn’t seriously bring a condom out here.”
“I’m learning from your Boy Scout ways,” she said, her breath warm on his neck now. She nibbled his earlobe as she ground hard against his erection. “Be prepared, right?”
He didn’t answer her. Not with words, anyway. As his mouth found hers, he slid one hand from her ass to the front of her bikini bottoms. He slipped one finger inside, groaning when he found her slippery and wet from more than just seawater.
“Christ,” he murmured, kissing her harder.
“I want you,” she whispered. “Grab the condom.”
She drew back so their upper bodies were angled apart, even as their lower bodies pressed tight together. She held herself away from him, grinning, with her fingers laced behind his neck. “As far as anyone knows on the beach, we’re just a couple embracing in the water. Maybe kissing a little.”
Her words were a faint buzz in his ears, and though he knew it was crazy, he found himself fumbling the condom out of her bikini pocket. He tore off the wrapper, shoving it in the Velcro pocket of his swim trunks so it wouldn’t float away.
“So conscientious,” she murmured, kissing his neck. “Such a responsible, upstanding citizen.”
“Who’s about to do something highly illegal,” Grant murmured, not caring all that much.
She drew back again, fingers laced behind his neck as Grant slid the condom on as discreetly as possible. Was this even safe in saltwater? He wasn’t sure, but part of him didn’t care.
