Sea of Seduction: A Single Dad Sports Romance

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Sea of Seduction: A Single Dad Sports Romance Page 15

by Jennifer Evans


  We walked for a few more minutes in silence, and I felt the weariness of my mother drifting away.

  “Can I ask you something?” Coco said.

  I stopped right where we were, leaned her against the railing and put my arms around her. “What’s on your mind, meu amor?” I stared into her blue eyes.

  “What did your mother mean when she agreed with you about Cortes Bank? When you told her she knew why you were doing this?”

  “You don’t want me to go, do you?”

  Her chin dropped to her chest. “No.”

  I removed my arms from her body and stood next to her against the railing, staring out at the ocean. “You’re my girlfriend, right?”

  Her voice was a whisper. “Yes.”

  “Then why won’t you support me in this?” I stood up straight and crossed my arms. “Do you know how hard I’ve been training?”

  “Is there money involved? Is that why you’re putting your life at risk?”

  “Money?” My eyes narrowed. “Is that what you think this is about? This is about way more than money.”

  I looked at Coco. Her black hair whipped around her head, her creamy skin in stark contrast to the dark sky. She gripped the metal railing. “Why can’t you listen to your mother?”

  “My mother doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about. She’s ruled by her emotions.”

  Coco looked at me, her blue eyes sad. “Do you know what I’d give to have my mother right here? I’d give anything to have her back.” She folded her arms tightly around her body. “You’re treating your mom like she’ll live forever.”

  I held my head in my hands and gave a long exhale. I moved close and held her hands. “Do you want to know why I’m doing this?”

  Her eyes glistened, and she nodded. “I’m trying to understand.”

  My heart beat hard against my chest. I tipped her chin up toward my face and gazed into her eyes. “I made a promise to my father. My mother knows why I’m doing this. She remembers how hard it was for me when my father died.” My pulse quickened. “My mom and dad had the kind of love that people only dream about.” I broke her gaze and stared at the ocean. “It’s not fair the way things ended.”

  Coco’s voice was barely audible as the wind picked up. Her fingers grazed my hand. “What happened?”

  I told Coco about the horrible way my father had died. “He had leukemia. He fought. My dad was a fighter. The doctors tried everything, but in the end, he didn’t make it. He laid in that hospital bed while nurses jabbed him with needles and drugs. He lost so much weight that I could probably pick him up with one finger.” I didn’t want to relive the terrible time again, but it was a specter that haunted my dreams, never allowing me a moments rest. The promise I had made to my father was fresh in my mind as though I’d made it yesterday.

  I turned to Coco, and her clear blue eyes were filled with concern. “I made a promise to him. It was the day before he died.” My throat grew tight with emotion. “He held my hand. I could barely stand to touch his bony fingers anymore. I wanted him to die, Coco. I wanted his suffering to be over. All he ever cared about was my mother and me.” My fists clenched. “He was only thirty-eight years old! It’s not right that God took him away from us so young.” I dipped my head, staring at the swirling ocean below, the whitewater crashing on the rocks. “Before he died he asked me if I was happy. Was I happy surfing? He told me I had a rare talent. Told me I had everything it took to excel on the pro tour, to win, to make the Cortes name live on in history.” I swallowed hard as the memories overtook me. “I made a vow. I told him I would do it.”

  I turned to Coco. Her skin took on a ghostly glow, her eyes wide. My voice was louder than expected when I said, “I screwed up! I could’ve had the title eventually, but I punched that judge right in the face.” She reached out to touch my arm, but I shrugged her away. “I’ll never win the tour. Now do you understand why I’m hell bent on riding Cortes Bank? It’s a way I can make it up to my father.” I held her hands. “Try to understand.”

  Her chin quivered. She nodded her head once. “But you’ve got Lola.”

  I broke our grip. The mention of Lola cut me to the quick. I didn’t want to admit to anyone how conflicted I felt about the possibility of dying at the Banks. “Why can’t you support me? Lola does.”

  And then Coco’s voice raised louder than I’d ever heard, her eyes wild. “What if you don’t make it? Who’s going to raise your baby?”

  “She’s not a baby anymore!”

  Long seconds passed, and all I could hear was Coco’s heavy breathing. Finally, she spoke. “Do you know how lucky you are?” Her finger pointed to her chest. “I can’t have kids. I’ve tried, and I would give anything to be a mother to a sweet girl like Lola. I know it’s important to you but isn’t there another way? Something other than this crazy idea about riding some dangerous wave out in the middle of the ocean?”

  My jaw clenched, and self-righteousness took over. I would surf that wave and come home to Lola. “Crazy idea? I’m training for this. I’m opening my soul up to you. Do you have any idea what it felt like to watch my father die? Do you even know what it feels like to lose somebody close to you?” I wasn’t being fair because I knew Coco’s mother was dead.

  Coco’s skin flushed pink. “I lost my mother—”

  At that moment a loud clap of thunder boomed in the sky and a jagged bolt of lightning lit up the night. The rain came fast and hard, soaking both of us immediately. Another bolt of lightning hit, then another, the wind whipping wildly around us. The rain pelted down, coming in sideways, needles penetrating our clothing. I placed a protective arm around Coco’s body. “Let’s get out of here. The last thing we need is to get struck by lightning.”

  We ran the few blocks home, not speaking. It was okay for couples to disagree. It added passion and fire to a relationship. If lovers couldn’t quarrel, then the relationship became stale and lifeless. I’d seen my mom and dad have some knock-down, drag-out fights and they always kissed and made up. They loved each other. Coco and I would work this out. I would ride that big wave and make her proud. Then I would go back to surfing for fun, working the business, taking care of Lola, maybe even having a life with Coco.

  When we arrived home, Lola and my mother had a crackling fire going and were sitting on the sofa watching TV. “Get in out of the rain!” My mother bustled to Coco’s side. “Let me get you a dry towel.” I changed into dry clothes, and Lola produced a pair of oversized sweatpants and a nightshirt for Coco.

  The four of us sat on the sofa to watch the news. The commentator was an extremely attractive blond standing out in the storm wearing a raincoat, holding an umbrella and speaking into a microphone. “The first major El Niño storm of the season is battering the Pacific. Meteorologists expect seven inches of rain over the next few days. Landslides are possible along with severe flooding in desert areas.” She stared meaningfully at the camera. “The Coast Guard has issued storm alerts, from Mexico to Northern California.” The commentator droned on as Coco’s death grip grew tight on my hand.

  This meant big waves. During the El Niño years, the best waves could be had, and these were exactly the conditions big wave surfers anticipated.

  My phone rang. It was Goff. “Dude, Todos Santos is going off. I need you ready at three-thirty.” I raised a finger to my family and went into the kitchen for privacy.

  Todos Santos was Mexico’s premier big wave. It was only a few miles from La Fortuna to the Mexico border and Ensenada where we would take a boat from the harbor to the surf break.

  “Can we get a boat?”

  “Nah. The Coast Guard’s got the harbor closed off. No biggie, though. We’ll just lift up the chain that blocks access, slide the Jet Skis under and get out that way.”

  My heart raced in anticipation. I paced the kitchen, dragging a hand through my hair, glancing out to the living room to make sure I wasn’t overheard as we discussed the boards we’d take, which surfers would be going, which ph
otographers would record the event. I didn’t care about photographs. All I wanted was to ride the biggest wave I’d ever ridden while I thought of my father and the smile it would bring to his face. The waves at Todos Santos would prepare me for my ultimate goal of Cortes Bank.

  Goff said, “See you mañana. Beddy bye for you and me amigo. Alarm’s going off in a few hours. He let out a hoot. “Get ready to catch some bombs.”

  We hung up, and I made my way into the living room to break the news.

  As I recounted my plans, Coco’s eyes grew wide. She grabbed Lola’s arm and squeezed. Her voice was low. “Dominick, are you sure about this?”

  “Listen to Coco,” my mother said.

  Lola smiled sweetly and patted Coco’s hand. “You don’t mean that.” Lola jumped out of her seat and bounded toward me, hugging me hard. “My daddy’s gonna rip it up out there!”

  My mother turned her head away and shut her eyes tightly. When she opened them, she pointed one finger at me. “I know there’s no talking sense into you.” Her posture became stiff and she forced a deep breath and then let it out. “You be careful out there. Don’t let this trip end with your funeral.” She performed the sign of the cross, mumbling Catholic Saints’ names under her breath.

  Lola twirled me around twice, dancing a jig. “It’s going to be epic, Papai! “Get out there and show ’em how a Cortes does it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Coco

  As I laid out the last item I would need for the makeover onto my vanity table, the front bell rang, announcing a customer’s arrival. I was so intent on making sure everything was perfect I barely looked up. “Welcome to Beauty For Life!” I trilled reflexively.

  Cecelia’s hand landed on my shoulder. “There’s my lindeza.”

  I jumped. “Cecelia!”

  Her arms circled my body and squeezed tightly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I smiled broadly and smoothed down my skirt. “Well, what can I get you to drink? I’ve got chamomile, green tea, matcha and even some master tonic.” I scrunched up my face. “On second thought, you might not like the tonic. It’s made with onions, garlic and apple cider vinegar.” I pulled the chair out. “Please, sit.”

  Cecelia sat in front of the harsh lights. “Bring me the tonic. I like to live life.”

  I returned with a shot glass of the anti-aging tonic. “I have to warn you, this stuff is strong.”

  She accepted the glass and bolted the drink back in one long gulp, then slammed the glass down on the table. “Jesus Christo! You weren’t kidding.” She licked her lips. “I like it.”

  I busied myself with my apron but my hands were fidgeting so much that Cecelia finally reached out and held both my hands in hers. Her unwavering gaze met mine. “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” I avoided her eyes. I sat down and bounced my knee involuntarily, my eyes darting around the room. Cecelia’s hand landed on my knee. “Stop.”

  I looked into her brown eyes. My chin trembled. “He’s out there right this minute and I don’t know if I can make it through the day.”

  She exhaled audibly. “I learned something a long time ago. Dominick doesn’t listen to anybody.” She smiled. “It’s good to worry about your man. It means you’re a healthy, hot-blooded woman.” She clapped her hands together and eyed the items I’d laid out on the vanity. “Show me what you’ve got here.”

  Maybe it was okay to be a tormented female in Cecelia’s culture. Ever since my mother died I had worked hard to push my insecure feelings down. But my anxiety resurrected every time I thought of Dominick on those scary waves. I secured my apron and forced myself to focus on something positive. “Okay, let’s turn you into a supermodel.” I sat next to Cecelia and handed her a headband. “Put this on.” While Cecelia pulled her hair back, I unscrewed a jar of Manuka Honey and Bee Venom Cream. “You’re not allergic to bees are you?”

  She shook her head. “No. What’s that? Can I see?” I handed her the container and she turned it over reading the price tag. Her voice was shrill. “Three hundred dollars? For one jar?” A few of my patrons glanced at Cecelia. “Oops sorry, Coco.” Then in a louder voice, she said, “I don’t care how hard I have to work, I’m getting this cream!” She chuckled and sat back in the plush chair.

  I leaned forward and with shaky fingers, smeared a generous portion onto her skin. “This might sting. But the sensation won’t last long. When we remove it, your skin will be tighter and flushed.”

  Her face broke into a huge grin that quickly dissolved into a look of pain. “Ouch. It feels like that time I swam into jellyfish.”

  “That means it’s working.” My face screwed up in concentration as I applied the cream. “Doesn’t it smell lovely?”

  She sniffed deeply. “When we’re done with the mask can we put this in our tea?”

  I set my timer for five minutes. “Now we wait.”

  Cecelia visibly relaxed but I couldn’t. “This place is nice.” She glanced around taking in the mauve and cream colored walls, the shiny glass displays, the custom made vanity table and the strategically placed displays of jars, tubes and packages with the latest in skin care. She patted my knee. “I’m glad Dominick’s found a nice lady like you.” She winked. “Sexy and smart. I never liked any of those other ladies he brought around. But you don’t want to hear me go on about my son’s love life.”

  The previous evening, Dominick had taken me home and we’d devoured each other during a full hour of A-game hot sex. Sitting next to his mother, I felt terribly awkward remembering the way he’d rammed into me until I’d screamed his name. Afterward, he’d gently kissed my face and assured me that he’d be extra careful on the waves.

  Dominick was everything I had ever dreamed of in a man. He was athletic, protective, he cared about his family, he loved Lola and he ran a successful business—admittedly a bit of an odd business, but his clients loved him and he helped people. And yes, the sex was hotter than hell.

  I swallowed over a lump the size of a golf ball. “Cecelia, I can’t stop worrying about him.”

  Her laugh was shrill as she threw her head back. “If I had a nickel for every wrinkle that boy gave me.” Her gaze met mine. “I told you. You need to learn to live with it.”

  I chewed on my cuticle. “Why does he have to go out there on those big waves?”

  Her eyes strayed heavenward. “I wish I could talk him out of it. Not safe.” She rearranged herself in the chair. “But you need to know something about my son. If you nag him about this big wave idea, you’re going to drive him away.”

  “Did he say that?”

  Her eyebrows knit in concern. “No querida, he didn’t.” She inspected her face in the mirror, moving her facial muscles in a comical display making her skin look like wax. “This mask tingles!” She patted my knee. “It’s just that I know Dominick.” She rapped her knuckles against her skull. “The man is thick-headed.”

  I would never tell her what I was actually thinking. Cecelia didn’t need to know how my mother died. She was a protective mom and already I felt comfortable with her. Part of me wanted to tell her about my mother, it would’ve been such a relief. But I knew what happened when I discussed my mom. Even though it had been many years, every time I thought of her ridiculous accident, my emotions spiraled out of control. The poor woman must have been worried enough about her only son. “I’ve tried to get comfortable with what he’s doing. But sometimes I worry. Can’t you try to talk him out of it again?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I wish he would listen to his dear old mom. Sometimes I think I’m going to die a lonely old woman once Dominick finally does himself in with one of his crazy fights or dangerous surf.”

  My skin prickled with fear. “Surely you’re exaggerating?”

  She sat forward in her chair, placing both hands on my knees. “Dominick has his reasons. Did he tell you about his father?”

  “A bit.” I looked down at my lap. I didn’t want to rob Dominick of his goal. If only I could t
ell him about my mother without coming across like a crazy lady. The previous evening as we’d walked the park, I had tried. Why couldn’t I be strong like him? When I’d gotten up the nerve, my throat closed up so that I could barely speak. “I know this is important to him and I don’t want to be a downer. Doesn’t he realize his dad’s proud of him no matter what?”

  “I don’t know which man’s going to kill me first; Dominick or his dad.” She performed the sign of the cross. “God, I miss that man.” She touched my cheek. “I know you’re worried, but promise me you won’t bother Dominick about this estúpido big wave idea.” She pointed to herself. “I’ve tried. He doesn’t listen to me; he won’t listen to you. The only person he listens to is Lola. That granddaughter of mine is just as crazy as her dad. Don’t annoy him. It just makes him mad.”

  Cecelia was a mass of contradictions. One moment she was in an enormous Latin fight with Dominick, the next she was telling me to relax and enjoy our girls makeover. This was a life or death proposition we were discussing.

  “I know you’re worried but what can we do? I say you take a deep breath, maybe drink more of that tonic and relax. That’s what I have to do. Promise you’ll—how do you American’s say—chill out.”

  My timer rang, and I gave Cecelia a nervous smile. “I promise.” I pasted on a fake grin and grabbed a warm washcloth. “Now, let’s take a look at that youthful skin of yours.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Dominick

  Just as Goff had predicted, the Ensenada harbor was closed down.

  There were a handful of us, four surfers, two photographers and three Jet Skis. When we arrived at the harbor, we stood at our vehicles pulling on wetsuits, donning our flotation vests and rashguards, booties, waxing our big wave guns and then jumping onto the Jet Skis. I hopped on a Jet Ski with Goff, we rode the skis out to the chain blocking access to the open ocean, lifted it up and snuck underneath, then made the twelve-mile trek out to Todos Santos and the break known as Killer’s.

 

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