(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  “Come back here.” I shook my head to express my irritation since I couldn’t use my arms to gesticulate wildly to match the way I felt inside. “Mess around with me. Throw around words like those like I’m supposed to believe them.”

  “Maybe because they are the truth.” Each word was clipped.

  “Then you must have forgotten everything you said you remembered.” I shook my head dismissively. The pressure to cry was there but I refused to release the flood. “So many times we talked about what love meant to us. What we meant to each other. And you think you can just come back here after all this time, after taking the heart I gave you and ripping it to shreds and then leaving me to pick up the pieces.” I backed away from him as if he were a physical threat, hugging my arms tighter around my torso trying to ward off the outer chill and the inner one that was spreading inside of me.

  His own arms folded over his chest, he stood in front of me in just his dark indigo jeans and all those lean sexy muscles that played havoc with my senses. He stared at me in shock, as if I had somehow wounded him.

  “I want you to get out.” I pointed with my eyes toward the door. Swallowing nervously as I realized that anybody could have come in and could still come in while I stood there in the middle of my shop half naked and completely vulnerable.

  Frowning he tagged his shirt from the floor and shrugged it on. I hastily retrieved and replaced my own feeling marginally better to at least have those barriers back in place between us.

  Gaze hardening, he took a purposeful step toward me. Unlike before I stood my ground.

  He needed to know this ended now.

  “I’m leaving,” he announced dipping his chin before his eyes lifted to regard me. I felt a hurtful tug in my chest but quashed it. There was a steady resolve in his gaze that frightened me almost as much as that kiss had. “But I’m not going far. I’m sticking around for as long as it takes.” He took a couple of steps toward the door turning to face me again just as I was beginning to dissect those words. “You’re wrong. I haven’t forgotten. I can’t forget any of it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  * * *

  Simone

  After Linc left, I closed up the shop early. I needed to clear my head. I had been in a man drought for years then suddenly I’d been kissed by two on the same day. One sexy like an easy Pacific breeze, the other a gale force blown in from my past on some ill karmic wind.

  I swung by the groomer on my way home to pick up Chulo. Without all the extra fur he was half his regular size. I smothered him with kisses but my heart wasn’t into it. He was as sullen and withdrawn as I was. I knew from experience he would perk up by tomorrow. Whether or not I would was still in question.

  Usually when I felt this way I would head down to the ocean seeking its solace but not today. I wasn’t ready to face Patrick. Instead I stayed on the straight and narrow following the sidewalk home.

  Inside the two story place where I had grown up, I stepped out of my flip flops leaving them in the entryway. Chulo trotted off in front of me, less bounce in his paws than usual on his way to the laundry room and the solitude of his kennel.

  I padded across the hardwood floors and entered the nineteen forties kitchen that had never been completely redone. It was a hodge podge of eras. The new stainless steel refrigerator I had purchased after inheriting the house looked out of place alongside the old porcelain sink and a refurbished mint green oven and stovetop.

  Unable to summon the energy to whip up anything fancy, I popped open a Longfin Lager and grabbed a pre-packaged salad mix. Balancing my bounty I relocated back into the living room I had passed through a moment earlier. Perched on the edge of my tired old sofa, I set down my beer and started in on the greens, flipping through the channels with the remote as I ate but nothing could hold my attention. Before I realized it my dinner was gone but my thoughts were still completely unsettled.

  I took my empties back to the kitchen, throwing the beer bottle into the recycling bin and washing out my bowl before setting it on the drying rack next to the sink. I stared out the window watching Mrs. Kowalski’s grandchildren bouncing on the trampoline in her backyard, a sharp pang piercing my heart.

  Mrs. Kowalski had been my mother’s only friend. Before my mom got sick I would listen to them in this same kitchen drinking tea together and dreaming about the day when they’d both have grandkids to spoil. Well that dream never came true for my mother. I missed her despite the issues that had strained our relationship. We had grown to understand each other after I had come back home the second time. We had never been close enough for her to give me advice until near the end, but I could have used some of her wisdom right now.

  I knew Patrick had said a lot of things that were spot on this morning. I was letting my life pass me by. I had missed several opportunities to move on with other interested guys over the years. None had measured up, not even coming close to the standard Lincoln had set, so I had just given up dating. One year faded into the next until here I was fifteen years later with a failing surf shop and a bunch of broken dreams.

  I touched my fingers to my lips remembering Patrick’s kiss. There was a definite spark between us even though he was ten years younger. But if I was going to venture outside my comfort zone was he the guy I wanted to take a chance on?

  And what about Linc? The ghost had returned. No longer haunting my thoughts but trying to possess me completely.

  His kiss hit more than just a spark. It reignited the blazing fire of our past with soul consuming flames.

  I took a long bubble bath upstairs soaking in the water until it turned cold. I allowed myself one glass of white wine. I needed my thoughts clear of alcohol’s persuasive haze.

  Patrick’s honest observations and Linc’s passionate revelations were all tangled up inside my head, but with one common thread. Withdrawing as long as I had wasn’t normal. The time had come for me to let go of the past. But to move forward I would have to make peace with it first.

  After donning a comfortable pair of capri sweats and a ‘Surfing is my Life’ top, I dropped down onto the center of my white ruffled, quilt covered bed inside a room that sadly had changed as little as I had over the past fifteen years, though at least I had removed the original Dirt Dog’s band posters from my pegboard.

  I ran my fingers reverentially over the outside of the worn picture album that I had retrieved from the trunk at the head of my bed where it had sat barely touched for years.

  Cracking it open made my heart race.

  There was more than just images of Lincoln and me within its pages.

  Part Two

  2000

  Chapter Twelve

  * * *

  Simone

  “He’s gonna be really mad,” Karen said, a look of concern clouding her pretty features. “You sure you’re gonna be ok?” Her sundress swirled softly around her slender calves in the ocean breeze.

  “Yeah. I just wanna watch the sunrise then I’ll go home and face his wrath.”

  Chewing on the end of her blonde French braid, Karen focused her hazel eyes on the Pacific, its surface nearly completely flat in the grey predawn, only making a gentle gurgle where it capped against the rocks at the shore. The tropical storm had temporarily calmed the usual swells after it had blown through the night before.

  When she glanced back at me, her expression remained uncertain. “I could stay and then go with you. Your dad…”

  “I’ll be alright.” Dealing with him was my burden to bear. I had become accustomed to it and it was embarrassing to me to have others witnessing the way he treated me. As a hostess at the restaurant Karen had seen his abuse firsthand before she went off to college. She had gotten a full scholarship to a prestigious college on the east coast. Something my father never failed to point out. My grades had only been good enough to gain admission to SDSU a dozen miles up the road.

  “Ok, Simone.” She grabbed my hand from my slack arm and squeezed it. “Good luck then. Call me later and let me k
now how it went.”

  “Sure,” I replied dully, but I knew that I probably wouldn’t. We both had difficult fathers who didn’t understand us but the tight bond that had developed between us hadn’t survived the first semester given the physical distance and the heavy course demands of our freshman years. Coming back home for the summer after having been away was proving to be more difficult than I had thought it would be for many reasons.

  Karen jogged up the steep stairs to Narragansett Avenue. My street was nearly three stories above the sea. She would have to pass by my house on her way on to hers on Santa Cruz Avenue several blocks south. I turned back to the ocean dropping down on my rear on the dew damp sandstone, tucking my legs underneath me and arranging my skirt around them. Breathing in deep gulps of delicious salty air, I watched the sun peek over the horizon, gorgeous orange, yellow and red streaks of color christening the sky.

  I tried not to think about how angry my dad would be about me staying out all night. College had been my declaration of liberation from him. I had changed. I no longer cowered every single time he ranted. He wasn’t coping with the changes in me very well.

  Lost in my thoughts I watched the seagulls flying around the pier, breathed in deep breaths of moist salty air, closed my eyes and tipped my face into the breeze.

  College was great. Even though San Diego State University was only fifteen minutes away it felt like another world. I loved the challenge of my classes and loved the freedom to be my own person where I wasn’t known as Alberto Bianchi’s daughter.

  Leaning forward hands clasped together, I was feeling at peace with my decision to finally speak to him about changing my major. I started to hum at first then began to sing exuberantly the way I always did when I didn’t have to worry about pleasing an audience.

  “Fuck! Who the hell is that singing?” A sleepy irritated deep masculine voice complained.

  I abruptly stopped after the words ‘nothing seems real’ and jumped to my feet but stumbled on my deadened legs. I rubbed my calves frantically silently praying for them to wake up. Mortified and a bit frightened by the unexpected interruption, I was poised to flee but stilled when a man emerged from around a deep niche in the cliff.

  Finger combing his thick waves of sandy blond hair and tucking a tee back into his frayed jeans, he stopped and stared at me. For a long moment we held each other’s eyes. His were clear blue like my ocean though a little bloodshot around the edges. They widened slightly and for a moment it almost seemed as though he was just as stunned by my appearance as I was by his.

  A warm shimmer of recognition rolled through me. I had seen him around town. A professional surfer who was visiting for the summer. The women in town gravitated toward him like he was the moon and they the ocean tide. He was good looking in an effortless kind of way. Confident demeanor. Strong jaw. Compelling smile that he flashed often though I had only seen him do so from a distance.

  I could certainly understand the appeal.

  “Lincoln what’s going on?” A red head with tangled hair and pink stubble abraded skin stepped into view. Our eyes widened as we regarded each other.

  “Kit,” I said.

  “Simone,” she acknowledged glancing away quickly. She was a waitress at Napoli’s Seaside. My father only hired locally and practically everyone had worked at our place at one time or another. It was the only fancy restaurant in OB, so popular the tourists from downtown San Diego even made the trek to sample my father’s famous mussels.

  Not only did I know who Kit was, I also knew that she was married.

  “I’ll see you around,” Kit told Lincoln avoiding my eyes as she skirted around me and hit the same stairs Karen had used earlier.

  I followed her for a moment with my eyes.

  “What were you singing just now?”

  “Huh?” I turned back to look at Lincoln. He wasn’t watching Kit. Gaze appraising and maybe even appreciative, he was staring at me still, his light eyes sparkling like the surface of the ocean.

  “The song,” he explained his tone reflecting his amusement. “It sounded familiar.” His sexy lips curved up at the corners as I continued to be confused. “It’s driving me nuts. I just can’t seem to place it.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks flamed. That explained his keen interest. It wasn’t me he was interested in. It was the song. “It’s ‘Last Night of the World’ from the musical Miss Saigon.”

  “Really?” Brows darker than his hair rose. “Well that’s cool I guess.” His bemused smile widened and a slight dimple creased one cheek. “You usually out here giving impromptu performances at dawn?”

  I smoothed my skirt before peering up at him through my lashes. “You usually out here on the tidal flats carrying on with married ladies?”

  The smile and the sparkle of amusement vanished. I had meant the comeback to be coy but he apparently received it differently. “Don’t be so quick to be judge and jury for all that you see, Simone. Especially when you’re not privy to all the facts.”

  I bowed up a bit at his high and mighty tone, but then nodded. He was right and anyway what business was it of mine? He seemed surprised by my reaction to his scolding but then he didn’t know me. It would take harsher words than those to upset me.

  “I gotta go,” I muttered and turned away moving toward the stairs. This whole scene had gotten weird and a little awkward.

  “Ok,” he agreed readily. “Only Simone.”

  “Yes.” Fingers curled around the rough wood railing, I turned to look back. He was a solitary compelling figure, his hands plunged deep into his pockets, his broad shoulders looking tense as the wind rippled across the loose cotton of his shirt giving an enticing hint of the impressive musculature that lay beneath.

  “If you get in the mood to come down to this spot again, I’m usually here early most mornings.” He regarded me steadily something in his gaze that I couldn’t identify piercing me deeply. “Oh, and I really enjoyed hearing your song.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  * * *

  Linc

  “What’s going on with you tonight?” Ash bumped my shoulder. Hard. Almost knocking me over. My cousin was built like a Charger linebacker but he didn’t seem to realize his strength.

  “Nothing.” I tipped back my beer chugging it and draining it dry before tossing it aside. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Yeah,” he smiled and lifted a platinum brow. He was much more the typical blond blue eyed So Cal surfer than I was. If I wasn’t in the sun every day my hair tended to revert to boring brown.

  “I bet. Kit is smokin’.”

  “She’s alright.” I didn’t usually reveal anything at all about the chicks I slept with but Ash and I were cousins. Practically brothers truth be told given the amount of time I had spent at his house over the years instead of at my own with my old man always on some drunken bender. “Nothing special.”

  He dipped his chin to acknowledge my words and we went back to staring at the dancing flames inside the pit.

  “You ever heard of a girl named Simone? Long light brown hair with pretty highlights. Honey colored eyes. Sings like a siren.”

  “Simone Bianchi?” He glanced at me sharply. “Sure. Her family owns Napoli’s Seaside. I didn’t know she sang. But she’s got a figure…” He trailed off using both his hands as if tracing her delectable curves that I couldn’t help but notice. I would’ve been dead not to. “Where’d you run into her?”

  “At the beach this morning.” I shrugged indifferently but Ash wasn’t buying it. He knew me too well.

  “She’s not your usual type.” His steady gaze was assessing and I knew he saw the obvious interest I hadn’t been able to hide. I had been thinking about her while getting churned in the disappointing surf all day. Her captivating voice and equally captivating body. Her pretty face. But there had been something else, something beyond those things, a mystery within those striking eyes of hers that seemed familiar and that intrigued me.

  “She’s out of your le
ague, dude.” He rubbed his fingers together. “Her family is loaded. Besides, her dad keeps a real tight leash on her. And he hates surfers. You wouldn’t get past the front door.”

  Maybe, I thought. I would need an unconventional approach. I wasn’t willing to let it go and I refused to leave seeing her again up to chance.

  I stood brushing the crumbs from the tortilla chips we had been munching on earlier onto the cracked concrete patio and tilted my head toward the backyard gate. “I’m gonna go for a walk. You wanna come?”

  “No thanks. I gotta head over to Ramon’s place in a bit.”

  “Band practice,” I guessed. “Again?”

  “Even the Dirt Dogs the most popular band in OB needs repetition to get better.”

  “I can’t believe you let your dad name your band.” Uncle Gene was a big Red Sox fan from before he moved to San Diego and liked the nickname the fans gave to scrappy hardworking players.

  Ash shrugged. “We’ve got a gig coming up at the Deck Bar.”

  “Where Dominic’s dad works?”

  “Yeah and that’s probably part of the reason we got the job since I mostly suck as lead singer, but otherwise I don’t think we’re half bad. Even better whenever you step in and sing with us. You ought to swing by after your walk. Join us for a song or two.”

  “I might,” I replied noncommittally. I loved music but I wasn’t as serious about it as Ash and the others were. I was proud of them for the success they had, but tonight I had a much more pressing curiosity to satisfy. Besides I really wasn’t feeling like listening to Ramon’s crap. The band’s guitarist tended to be long winded about the latest chick he was into.

  Once outside the gate, I hooked a sharp right my feet automatically leading in the direction my heart wanted to go.

  I had to see her again.