Dating the Billionaire
Page 16
She let her gaze wander off the waves for a moment, over to the patches of rocky cliffs that lined the shore, taking it all in, letting herself drift briefly in the dark ocean. The air was still, and the warm water lapped at her bare thighs. God, it felt good to be out on the water again. She hadn’t surfed in almost a year, despite the fact that she lived near a long string of surfable beaches. But her favorites were down in Santa Cruz, and there just wasn’t time to make that predawn drive. Or, in her sister’s words, Jessie didn’t make the time. Whatever. Now that Jillian was living in Woodside with her gazillionaire boyfriend, she was all about the “work-life balance” crap that everyone in Silicon Valley knew wasn’t real. If you wanted a start-up to succeed, you had to work all hours. A female-owned tech business? Double that. Plus, neither of them should be falling for a dude who was encouraging them to settle down instead of push forward. Their mother had shown them exactly where that path led...a point that Jillian hadn’t appreciated.
Shit. Maybe Jillian was right on the “work-life balance” point: Jessie might truly be incapable of taking a week off. Of course, she had taken that statement as a challenge, but now she was spending her morning surf session thinking about business woes. Fail.
Jessie scrubbed her face with a handful of sea water and watched the waves roll around the point, swelling, peaking and finally breaking. They were breaking twice, the first out here near the point, and then a second time further down, closer to shore. But the biggest ones kept going all the way down in a long line that stretched on and on. If she waited for one of those, she could catch a wave and ride it all the way in, for a minute, maybe more. In surf time, that was forever. So far this morning, she had caught some amazing shorter rides. Now it was time to get the perfect one.
Patience.
Jessie squinted out into the fog. Waves came in sets, and the first ones that were coming in looked promising. It was time to get into position. She circled her legs in the water, turning her board toward shore, then lay down on her stomach, paddling, keeping her eyes on the swell. This was the set she was waiting for. A few more strokes and she’d be in the right place when the wave broke.
But as she lifted her hand to paddle, a flash of white not too far away startled her. She jerked her head around to find a big guy on a short board, tanned, muscled and bare-chested, wearing board shorts. His brown hair was slicked back with water and a sexy smile teased his lips. And it looked like he was getting in position for the wave, too. The same wave.
Jessie frowned. How the hell did someone paddle out here without her noticing? She should have heard him even if her back was to the shore, but she must have been so absorbed with the solitude of the ocean that she’d missed it. She glanced over at him again. Was the dude really going for her wave? Because stealing a wave was the height of rudeness for any surfer, and she felt the insult doubly, as a woman.
Focus on the wave.
She turned back to watch it coming around the point. Yes, this first one was going to be the best one, and it was close, maybe too close to get in position. Jessie paddled hard, her shoulders burning until she was right there on the lip of the wave. Late, maybe too late, unless she popped up close to the front, pushing the board forward. Too far forward and she’d topple over; not far enough and the wave would pass her by.
Now.
Jessie pushed up, then jumped her feet under her, staying low, shifting her weight further forward, holding onto the nose. And then it happened. The moment her board caught the wave was magical, that push as the board headed down the face, picking up speed. She shifted back toward the center of the board and started across the green ocean wall that was stretching up next to her.
As the wave opened up, she caught a glimpse, just a little further down, of Surfer Dude paddling in, like he was still getting ready to drop in. This guy wasn’t a novice—his board was too short, and he was too comfortable in the water. He wasn’t even wearing a rash guard, for God’s sake, probably just to show off all those muscles and tattoos. And clearly, he didn’t give a shit about the cardinal rule of waves: first to stand up owns the wave. Or maybe he didn’t think she’d catch it. Whatever his reasoning, it was as if he had been placed right here in front of her, in the middle of this perfect beach, to push all of her buttons. She fought hard to resist schooling him...and lost.
“Don’t even think about it,” she called, giving him her best evil eye.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t scowl or glare back or react any other way she expected. Instead, his smile spread across his face, a beautiful smile, like she had made his day. And, dammit, she almost lost her balance. Jessie swore she heard him chuckle, but he pulled back, sitting up on his board right as she passed him by.
Focus.
Jessie gritted her teeth and found her center, carving up. The wave was breaking just behind her, shooting her forward, so she put that smug surfer out of her mind and curved into the glassy morning water. The fog was lifting only a hazy mist, and the green forest high up on the bank shone dark and brilliant.
But at that halfway lull, the wave died under her, so she turned her board out toward the ocean and jumped off into the water. Beautiful ride, even if she didn’t make it all the way in to the shore. Jessie came to the surface, pushing her hair back over her shoulder as she climbed back on her board.
The next wave was coming in...and Hot Surfer Guy was heading toward her. He slammed the lip of the wave, holding his board, catching air before he glided down the face. Damn, he was good. And he had to know it. The wave he was riding was bigger than hers, and it looked like he’d be able to make it all the way in.
But when he got to the spot where she sat, gawking at him, he turned up the face and jumped the lip, coming down right next to her, dangerously close. And beautifully executed. He sank down next to his board, grabbing it, making sure it didn’t hit her before he disappeared under the water. A moment later he emerged dripping, and got himself back onto his board, muscles rippling.
Jessie continued to gape. Oh, Lord, this guy was jacked. He was really big and really built, with a few tattoos she was trying hard not to stare at. He pushed strands of brown hair out of his face and looked at her with dark eyes that shimmered in the light. And then he smiled. It was the same smile that he had given her as she rode by him, one of pure, sexy enjoyment. Her stomach was doing funny things, and her heart was pumping hard. She hoped it was just leftover adrenaline from a good surf run.
Maybe she should go easy on him. Naaah.
Jessie crossed her arms, trying to look unimpressed. “You almost dropped in on my wave. Do you cut in line at the grocery store, too?”
He shook his head slowly, managing to look both repentant and mischievous at the same time. “Sorry.”
His voice was a deep rumble, distracting her from her frustration. And he had this look on his face, like he loved what he was seeing...which she absolutely wouldn’t let distract her because she had been in this situation too many times before. Jessie knew exactly how she had to handle these surfer bros. If she didn’t make her point absolutely clear, he and all of his other dude friends who showed up would keep doing it again and again.
“If I were a guy, you would have pulled back without me having to snap at you,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said, like he was considering that possibility. “But I don’t think so. Not many people could have caught that wave so late on a longboard, male or female.”
She blinked at him. That sounded an awful lot like a compliment...one that was sidetracking her from the main point. “If we see each other out here again, you can assume I’ll catch anything I paddle for.”
It was at this point in the conversation that the guy’s smile should have faded. He should be looking around to see if any of his buddies heard him get chewed out by a short chick with long, platinum-white hair. But he didn’t look pissed or embarrassed at all. In fact, his eyes were even more
alive, and he seemed to be fighting another smile.
“I won’t do it again,” he said solemnly. There wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. It was warm and a little husky.
“Good,” she said. She was trying to give him some attitude, the kind that ensured that people didn’t mess with her waves or her business or her life. But it was so hard with this beautiful man staring at her like he was a little...in awe?
So she let herself look just a little more. His dark hair was shaggy, a little overgrown, and it dripped down onto his shoulders, leaving trails of water along his pecs and his washboard stomach. He had deep brown eyes with dark lashes and a lush mouth, soft and inviting. Around one muscular arm was a tattoo that reminded her of something Hawaiian. He looked like he could be Hawaiian. And he definitely wasn’t some rich tech dude who bought a surfboard to improve his image.
But most notably, she had just given him dick-withering attitude, and he was still staring at her like she was the best thing he had ever seen. Sitting in silence in the water, staring at this guy, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to strip him down or give him the finger. Or both. Damn. She had to get out of here before she did something really stupid. Like smile and nod and say something conciliatory, the way she was supposed to in investor meetings. Pretend she didn’t have a mouth like a whip, at least for long enough to get this dude into bed. Yeah, too late for that.
“You’re good,” he said. Was that a hint of surprise in his voice?
“Gee, thanks,” she said, her voice full of false cheer. “That’s so nice of you to notice.”
But he just grinned back at her. “You’re welcome.”
“Not as good as you, of course.”
The guy shrugged. “We’d have to see.”
Jessie bit her lip to keep from smiling. She should really cut this conversation off here, but as much as she hated to admit it, it was entertaining.
“Are you challenging me to some sort of surf-off?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, I know I’m not from around here, but how exactly does that go down?”
“Any way you want it to,” he said, and she could have sworn his eyes glittered with sexy interest.
“The prize?”
“What do you want?”
“Hmm...” Jessie pretended to think about it. “I think you’d bend the knee.”
The guy tipped his head back and laughed. “This is getting better by the minute. You ready to go?”
Damn, she needed to get out of there before she did anything stupid. Like proposition this guy, right there on the water.
“Maybe another day.” She started to turn her board around toward shore.
“Wait,” he called. “Are you staying here at the Kalani?”
She nodded.
“Meet me here tomorrow morning.” His voice had that rumbly quality, making it sound like he was open to just about anything happening between them tomorrow morning.
Was this guy for real? Jessie was really hoping her mouth wasn’t hanging open right now because it was getting harder and harder to come up with snarky responses. Which he deserved.
“I have plans,” she said, then lay down on her board and took a couple strokes. She could feel his eyes on her as she paddled into a wave, headed for shore.
“See you around?” he called after her, his voice laced with undisguised interest.
She couldn’t resist a smile. “Possibly.”
* * *
Who was that?
Byron Keahi leaned back on his board and watched the woman swim away. Her long white hair trailed after her like she was some kind of mermaid. Except the mermaids he knew about were sweet creatures who sang and sometimes couldn’t even speak. The gorgeous version in front of him definitely had a mouth on her, which had really got him going. Byron blinked, trying to get his head on straight.
Was she real? The most appealing woman he had seen in years was surfing his break. It was almost too good to be true. Byron splashed a little water on his face, trying to snap out of this daze, but there she was, surfing a waist-high wave to shore without even a single glance backward. Despite the cool morning air, he was feeling warm all over.
Warning bells were going off, but he ignored them. Because he had to figure out how to see her again.
He watched her as she walked up onto the beach in her red swimsuit that hugged her ass and showed off her legs. She didn’t seem like the type who paid luxury sums to spend an undisturbed week by the beach while their fantasies were fulfilled. She had no problem telling him off, which wasn’t really the vibe of the people who stayed here. Plus, not once in the five years since he had built the Kalani Resort had anyone brought a well-used, dinged and yellowed surfboard with them. Until now.
Maybe she had lied about staying at the resort. She could be a local who snuck onto the property for dawn patrol. God, he hoped not, because that meant she would walk her board back to the parking lot and possibly never return, especially after the glare she’d given him. Except... Byron could’ve sworn there was a layer of lust in the way her gaze moved down his body. Like she kind of hated how attracted she was to him. It was a dynamic he couldn’t resist, no matter how many times he had gotten burned by it. So maybe he should be glad if she was a local and he never saw her again.
The woman reached the beach, and she pulled her board out, setting it in the sand. Then she turned around and bent over to squeeze her hair out. Her breasts dangled over the top of her suit, and a bolt of lust blasted through him as he pictured the look of scorn on her face when she’d told him to stay off her wave. She stood up and looked right out at him, but she was probably too far away to see where his gaze was aimed. Was there a smile on her lips? God, he hoped so. She grabbed her board, walked up the beach and disappeared on the trail.
Byron shook his head slowly. Damn, he was one messed-up asshole. Because he was no longer thinking about the perfect waves this morning had to offer. He was no longer thinking about how to spend his last two days here on the island before he returned to real life in New York. All he was thinking about was how the hell he could find this woman again.
Copyright © 2020 by Rebecca Hunter
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ISBN-13: 9781488062261
Dating the Billionaire
Copyright © 2020 by Lisa Childs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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