After both rings were in place, Levi said, “By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Butch bent Summer in to a dramatic kiss. Eugene’s face turned crimson, but Nelson leaned in for a gander. Rosalyn clutched my hand so hard I thought it would break. At that moment, six white doves were released from cages and flew over the sky at Mavericks as the waves pounded the shore.
When they were done with their kiss, Butch yelled, “We did it!” and held Summer’s hand up in victory. Everyone clapped and cheered as the speakers belted out a rock and roll version of “Devil with a Blue Dress.”
I slapped Butch five then gave him a bear hug as Rosalyn embraced Summer. “Congratulations, man.”
“Yee haw!” Butch said. “We’re married.” His face flushed with excitement. “Hey buddy, see you over at the OPL. Our adoring photographers await.” He picked Summer up, spun her around, then kissed her again, and they ran hand in hand, the photographers going crazy on them.
I looked at Rosalyn. “Hey, we’ve got time before the party. You want to take a walk on the beach?” The waves were small, and the tide was out, the sand a never ending carpet that was soft under our feet.
“Sure, why not?” She glanced over her shoulder. “They’ll be a while with the zillions of pictures they’ve got to take.”
Eugene and Nelson ran to our sides, Carissa following at a leisurely pace. “Mom, can we go see what cool instruments the band’s setting up?” Eugene said.
She ruffled his hair. “Sure honey. The reception won’t start for at least another thirty minutes or so. We’ll meet you at OPL.”
Eugene tugged on my sleeve, his green eyes looking up at me. “We’ll see you over there. Hey, maybe the band’ll play some of Tyler’s songs.”
I smiled. “If they do, I’ll dance with both you and your mom.” He grinned wide, and just like every time I looked at Eugene, my heart brimmed over with love for my son.
Nelson held Carissa’s hand and twirled her around once. “Will you dance with me at the party?”
“Oh Nelson, if I was about thirty years younger …”
He grinned. “Doesn’t mean you can’t dance.”
We all laughed and the boys, full of teenage excitement, tore off through the crowd. Nelson yelled over his shoulder, “Come on Carissa. Last one’s a rotten egg.”
Carissa shrugged. “See you guys there.”
Rosalyn and I walked along the shore while holding hands, the majestic cliffs towering over us. The raw scent of the ocean filled my nostrils. A few seagulls swooped overhead. Finally, we found a level spot perfect for relaxing. “Let’s sit for a while,” I said. We sat down and dug our toes into the sand.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Rosalyn said. Her eyes misted over. “So many memories. First Eugene finding out you were his dad then that crazy day we all watched you surf.” She hugged herself. “Can’t say I enjoyed that much. I was so worried.”
My heartbeat sped up as I gazed out at the ocean. I held Rosalyn’s hand and peered into her wide brown eyes. “This place is special to me.” My throat constricted, and my palms grew sweaty. “That’s why I brought you here to ask you what I wanted to ask.”
Rosalyn sat up straight. “Oh no. Is everything okay? There’s not another big swell happening is there?” She gripped my hands. “Jax, promise me you’ll wear your floatation vest every single time—”
“Rosalyn, stop.” I smiled. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
She sagged against me. “Wasn’t the wedding gorgeous? Summer looked so pretty.” She glanced at me nervously and when she spoke, her voice was a squeak. “What did you need to ask me?”
“It’s just that I want to know…”
Rosalyn stared at me, her eyes unblinking. “Is everything okay? Jax, you look nervous.”
I smiled. “I’m not very good at these things, seeing as I’ve never done it before. I …” My throat closed up so tight I thought I wouldn’t be able to talk. When I found my voice, I said, “Rosalyn, when I lost you all those years ago, I thought I’d never find the kind of love we shared.” I grasped her hand tightly. “Then we found each other again, and after I got over my tantrum, I realized that kind of love doesn’t come around often.” Rosalyn stared at me, her eyes wide. “Seeing you again after all those years, I couldn’t believe my luck. It was as though a lightning bolt struck, and I was in love with you all over again. Truth is, I never stopped loving you. I was right to think we were soul mates because I’ve never met anyone who came even close to that rush I feel every time I’m with you. Every time you walk into a room, it lights up.” I removed my hand from Rosalyn’s long enough to fumble around in my pocket for the ring. I slid it out of its hiding place, and with trembling hands, I held the ring in front of Rosalyn.
When she saw the perfect one-carat diamond in the tension-set, platinum band, her hand flew up to her mouth, her eyes opened wide. “Oh! Oh my God, Jax, I don’t know what to say.”
“How about yes? Rosalyn, will you marry me?”
“But I’ve been so wrong in the way I treated you. I don’t deserve—” And then Rosalyn began to cry, happy tears that streamed down her beautiful face. “I don’t know. Do you really want to be with me? For the rest of our lives? Is that what you really want? Are you sure?”
I looked at this woman who was my lover, the mother of my son, my partner in crime. She was just as radiant as the day we’d met in the ocean when I’d given her that first surf lesson. “I have never been so sure of anything. Rosalyn, I love you. Will you be my wife?”
She wiped the tears away from her face. “Jax Priest, I could never say no to you. Yes, I would love to be your wife.”
I slid the ring on to her finger, and we kissed. Her warm mouth was on mine, her soft tongue probing, my hands roaming her curves. We eased our bodies onto the sand, mine on top of hers, as our kiss grew deeper. Her body was vibrant, alive, filled with the passion born of years of pent up desire. Rosalyn had said yes! I leaned in to kiss her gorgeous mouth, my body on fire. I was the luckiest man alive.
The love we shared was more thrilling than a hundred foot wave.
I had found my soul mate again, and this time, I would never let her go.
THE END
THANKS FROM JENNIFER
Thank you so much for reading The Pleasure Point Series. I need to thank some of the folks who’ve made this book possible.
Big thanks to Pegleg Rik Bennett, the real “Peg-Leg” big wave surfer. When I started researching the Pleasure Point Series, I wanted to give Jax a best friend who had a unique attribute and lo and behold; I found this crazy Brit, who was born without an ankle, just like Butch Wolf. Rik has more legs than surfboards, more heart and soul and zest for life than the rest of us mere mortals. He also tells some pretty awful jokes. We’ve become great friends through the writing of this book.
Huge thanks to all the big wave surfers I met through this project. A big shout out to Grant “Twiggy” Baker, Greg Long and Rod Greenup. You endured my technical questions, and Twiggy saved Jax Priest from expiring on the first page of the manuscript. If it weren't for Twiggy, Jax wouldn’t have survived the impossible four-wave hold-down I forced him to endure. Thank you to Shane Dorian, Rusty Long, Greg Long and Shawn Dollar. Your stories inspired my adaptations of the wipeouts that Jax and Butch survived. Thanks to John Long, Sam George and all the contributors to “The Big Juice, Epic Tales Of Big Wave Surfing.” These athletes are the true heroes of adventure sports. I am in awe of what you do. Please wear your flotation vests when you paddle out!
Jeff Clark, for your dedication to putting Mavericks on the map and his lovely wife, Cassandra Clark for technical details about an airlift out of Mavericks. Micah Pitts and Kevin Kroushinsky, my Dana Point neighbors who first inspired me to paddle out. If I got any of the surfing technicalities wrong, the errors are all mine.
Thank you to all who have contributed to the Near Death Experience Re
search Foundation. There were many nights that I stayed up until the wee hours reading your fascinating accounts. Anyone interested in exploring Near Death Experiences, check out nderf.org or “Dying To Be Me” by Anita Moorjani.
Thank you to the Gerson Institute. These fine folks inspired the Trinity Clinic. They’re performing incredible work in helping patients with “the incurables.”
Big thanks to all my early readers: Kerry Pedlow, Cheryl Choate, Jennille Smith, Robby Sap, Athena Bedford and Ali Maton. Kerry also happens to be legally obligated to be my first reader through marriage. Thanks for being my number one fan.
My editors, Alyssa Archer and Leslie Watts, deserve an acknowledgment all their own for their impeccable work. Their editorial comments, line edits and proofreads are fantastic. It’s a pleasure to work with these smart, good looking, fun, detail-oriented women. Your friendship is a rare treasure.
And thanks to the groms who hang out down at Brooks and Oak Street in Laguna Beach. You helped me to write the characters of Gary, Eugene, and Nelson.
After receiving so much help, I hope that I can give back a little. Check out the offer below for a chance to win some cool stuff. I’ll also add you to my Readers Group and keep you updated on everything Pleasure Point Series related.
Click here for a chance to win Signed Copies, a Kindle eInk or up to a $15 Amazon Gift Card. http://www.romancedevoured.com/giveaways/win-a-kindle-author-jennifer-evans/
A NOTE FROM JENNIFER
Thank you so much for reading my sexy surfing stories! I have a blast writing from my home in Laguna Beach where I’ve been known to gaze out the window, stare at the Pacific ocean, throw my pen down and paddle out to the lineup. I’ve met many of the hot surfers who’ve inspired the Pleasure Point Series while riding the glassy waves until the sun dips into the sea.
I’m hard at work on the next book in the series, but meanwhile, if you want to know more about me as a person, I invite you to check out my memoir, Grand Theft Auto and Other Misdemeanors. This humorous book chronicles my wayward childhood growing up in South Florida where I was known to make out with boys, smoke cigarettes and steal my aunt’s brand new Camaro. Since when has stealing a car when you’re twelve been a crime?
CLICK HERE TO ORDER NOW! http://bit.ly/jensmemoir
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When not writing, Jennifer enjoys surfing, yoga, hiking, rock climbing and trapeze flying. She has one surfer boy husband, and one black cat named Ruby. She lives in Laguna Beach, California.
CREDITS
Editing by Leslie Watts and Alyssa Archer
Cover Design by Inspired Cover Designs
Interior Layout by Polgarus Studio
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2016 Jennifer Evans
All rights reserved. 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 publisher, except where permitted by law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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