Riding the Wave (14 page)

“G
oddamn it, Avalon.” The sun burned Tanner’s eyes, he was sweating his ass off, and he was about ten feet away from some of the best waves he’d seen since hitting California.

He was nowhere near being able to surf them.

“You’ll cope.” She circled him, the camera lifted to launch point. The woman wasn’t the least bit put off by his grumbling.

He pretty much dug that about her. That he could get loud and blustery was no surprise. He’d run off plenty of chicks with too much smack talking. Avalon stood her ground.

Or rather, forced him to stand his ground. She touched him abruptly, taking hold of his wrist and draping it over the WavePro-printed surfboard next to him. He lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously? This is how you’re posing me?”

“Look casual.”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s part of your contract.” She lifted the camera. The lens clicked in a near-steady whirr. “So suck it up, Princess.”

“I can think of other things that need sucking.”

She dropped the camera and peered at him over the black body. “Really? That’s the line you’re going with?”

He shrugged. She looked too gorgeous for words. They’d spent every moment of the last three days in bed. When he wasn’t training, that was.

Or at meetings or making appearances or signing surfboards.

It probably made him a shithead, but he didn’t like this part of the gig. If it all came after the event, that might be different. But he wanted to put that goddamned trophy on his shelf before he dealt with all the little bullshit.

Not to mention, Avalon looked good enough to eat. She shook her head at him, then lifted some little device that measured . . . something. He’d never really paid attention to the photographers who’d swarmed around him before.

None of them had worn bikinis to their shoots, either. The little red halter one again, he’d been glad to see when he met her on the beach that morning. The expanse of her waist looked delectable. He wanted to dip his tongue in the small divot of her belly button.

Come to think of it, the photogs he’d dealt with before had all been male. Might’ve been a little off-putting if they’d worn bikinis.

“Pick the board up. Hold it behind you.”

He rolled his eyes again, but he did what she’d asked. This Avalon was brisk. Mostly businesslike and definitely a woman in her element.

Major turn-on.

But he had to stop thinking about that, or in a minute he’d have to be holding the board in front of himself. He
hadn’t been that out of control since he’d been twenty-two and realized that being on the circuit pulled more tail than a bunny rabbit could shake. The way Avalon looked at him—when she wasn’t ensconced behind a camera—was pretty damn intoxicating. Considering his pre–Sebastian Pro clean living regimen meant no drinking, she was as close as he could get to a rush.

And she gave mean rush, that was for damn sure. The night before, they’d been up against the sliding glass door in his bedroom, their only audience the sand and midnight-gleaming waves.

He’d still been out on the water at dawn.

But he wanted to get a piece of these waves, too. That was part of it. No ride was ever enough. He had to push harder, go faster, catch more air. Even if the trophy never came with it all. He’d made plenty of money over the years. At this point, he was in it for the love of the waves and for the pride of the wins. “You’ve got ten minutes, Avalon,” he warned her. His gaze was fixed on the whitecaps. Burning down the left, they made a nice front he could slice down.

“Take your shirt off, then.”

“What?” He jerked his gaze back toward her. “Why?”

She wasn’t even looking at him. At the beach grass that lined the far edge of the beach, she knelt next to her kit, switching out lenses. “Beefcake shots.”

“No way,” he said automatically.

It wasn’t that he’d never taken shirtless pics before. They kind of went with the territory of being a beach sports star. But . . .

Well, to be honest, he’d never taken them with a woman he was banging on a regular basis. It almost felt like it had a tawdry kind of edge, taking borderline appropriate pictures.

“C’mon,” she said. Her tone had gone cajoling, her eyes wide. “No biggie, right? Don’t tell me big and mean Tanner Wright has a problem taking his shirt off.”

With a mental shake at his own momentary stupidity, he yanked the silky rashguard up over his head and tossed it on the sand behind him.

“Oh yeah,” she breathed. She lifted the camera in front of her face, but not before he got a good look at her wide pupils and the bright pink rolling over her cheeks. She was completely affected.

He laughed, looking off at the pier. Scrubbing his hand over the back of his head didn’t break the spell.

And it really didn’t help when she said, “There. Don’t move. Hold that a minute more and . . . Yes. Perfect.”

He’d heard that breathy tone before. The last time he’d been cock-deep inside her, the sheer perfection of her hold on him making him lose every shred of his control. She’d taken him away by pure enthusiasm.

He almost wished she’d go back to that businesslike tone.

At least then he’d know which version of Avalon he was dealing with.

“Well, well, well,” purred a male voice.

Mako stood behind him, a board under one arm. The man’s skin was dark, with a whiskey gold tone to it, attesting to his mother’s origins. But that mouth was all Hank Wright and it made Tanner want to plant a fist right in it. Especially when he smiled with smarmy intent, then flicked a gaze at Avalon.

“It does seem like this is a small world.” Mako’s hair was jet-black in direct contrast to Tanner’s and Sage’s golden tones. “I do promise I’m not a stalker . . .
brother.
”

The very word sent such strange, mixed emotions
through Tanner. He wouldn’t have minded the idea of a brother—especially one who surfed. But Mako’s very existence had become bound up in nasty run-ins with his dad.

No grown man liked to beg his father. Yet that’s what Tanner had done, asking him to please, please, fucking put it all in the open. Hank had refused, leaving Tanner to deal with this wreckage after his death.

Some fucking surf god Hank Wright had proven to be.

Weariness suddenly sucked the power right out of his bones, draining into the sand. The years had put too much weight on his shoulders and he probably ought to get rid of it before the Pro. Or he’d be fucked.

Avalon edged nearer to him, but not quite enough to touch. That was a damned shame. He needed her reassurance for some reason. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Mako let the tail end of his board droop toward the sand. A green-and-yellow fish, the thing looked like it’d be
almost
too short for the tall, slender man. But if he could get it to work, the thing would carve like nothing else. He shrugged. “With the way our father left my mother dangling for years and years . . . No. Probably not.”

“I assume it’d be too much to ask you to withdraw your statements. They’ll pull the article if you said you didn’t want to talk.” Tanner knew a few people at
SURFING
. Not enough to get it yanked entirely, because some old-school journalists worked there. But enough that maybe if Mako said he didn’t want the publicity, either, they’d at least soften the angle.

“Not likely. Plus I thought you should know I’m considering buying Wright Break.”

“Like fucking hell.” He hadn’t even
wanted
the place, but that didn’t mean he wanted Mako to take it, either.

His hands fisted. Goddamn it, he’d take his toys and go home and, yes, he knew exactly how fucking absurd that sounded. He didn’t give a shit.

He snatched up his board, pivoting on one foot. The days of fistfights were long behind him.

So close to the World Championships, he couldn’t afford the bad publicity. But he’d be damned if he was going to stay around for the antagonism, either.

Mako’s voice drifted over the sand toward him. “Guess this isn’t the best time for me to be surfing this break.”

Tanner flipped the bird over his shoulder. Bullshit. He didn’t need this kind of stress right before the Pro.

The cool water came up to his chest before he realized Avalon wasn’t behind him. A look back up the beach showed her bending over her camera case. Of course she couldn’t leave that expensive equipment behind. He wouldn’t want her to, anyway.

What he didn’t dig in the least fucking bit was that Mako still stood over her.

Tanner’s ears roared and it wasn’t all the crashing waves so much as his furious blood pumping in his veins, blocking out any semblance of rational thought.

So he did what he’d always done. Paddled out, dove through the break. Let the ocean slam down over his head and drive out all other thought beyond purity. Peace.

There were three other surfers bobbing in the lineup, but they all nodded to him with the genial laid-back chill of stereotypical surfers. He sometimes envied people who could surf like that, for the perfection of each individual wave. Who didn’t have to push themselves to fucking win and take and be on top.

That all came from his father, anyway. Hank thought
nothing was worth doing if it wasn’t done to win. He might’ve worn tie-dyed shirts and kept his hair long, but underneath had sliced the soul of a diving, cruel hawk. Who’d had Tanner in his sights most of his life.

The first years of his coaching had been solid and nice, until Hank realized that Tanner had world-class potential. When he’d made the world circuit, he’d been told he should have made it the year earlier. When he’d won his first championship, it should have been done with more flair. A fatter lead. The first sponsorships hadn’t been nearly big enough.

Fuck that noise.

Tanner caught wave after wave, waiting only now and then to give the other, older men on the water a chance. But if he had to be honest, once or twice he snaked waves right out from other surfers. Pretended like he didn’t see them poised for takeoff.

And when he sliced a pretty turn, then caught air and did a motherfucking Superman move, letting go of the board in the air, then grabbing on again, he knew it was the right choice. None of them would have hit anything half as hard.

Feeling plenty smug and not a little worn-out, he was able to smile when he saw Avalon swim out to his position. Her camera was wrapped securely by the strap around her wrist, housed in a plastic waterproof housing.

He grinned. “Don’t suppose you caught that one?”

“Actually, I did.” Her grin was almost as wide. “Should be a nice one.”

She gently paddled, floating next to the board he straddled. The water made her hair cling to her scalp and her ponytail was almost invisible with the way it had plastered to the back of her head. But she was still the most beautiful girl he’d seen in an unbelievably long time.

He leaned down to kiss her. A fast one, but she pulled away even more quickly. Her gaze slid to the left, where only one of the other surfers looked back at her. “Not in public.”

Every bit of annoyance came crashing back. The soles of his feet tingled and his back curved down into a calculated angle. “You didn’t mind kissing me on the pier.”

“That was different.” She slicked her tongue across her bottom lip, visibly searching for the words. “It was public, but it wasn’t. No one from our world around.”

“Fine. Never been someone’s dirty little secret before. We’ll have to see if there’s some kind of bonus that goes along with it. Maybe a little head. Haven’t gotten any of that yet.”

A cold splash of water landed right in his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Tanner. You don’t get to be an asshole to me.”

He showed his teeth in a near approximation of a smile. “So, tell me, Avalon. What was Mako saying to you?”

T
he lie had been almost instinctual. Tanner had asked what Mako wanted, and she’d meant to answer, but when she opened her mouth, lies had poured out.

By that afternoon, she was pretty much a wreck.

That she wasn’t a wreck immediately after she’d lied didn’t sit well with her, either. She’d kinda thought that Sage and Eileen had turned her into a better person than that. Yeah, her mom had instilled the value of a well-placed distraction, but Eileen had abhorred liars. She always said they weren’t being true to themselves.

Well, she was pretty much right, wasn’t she?

But it didn’t really matter, not in the bigger scheme of things.

She’d tell Tanner later. He hadn’t been in the place to hear anything like that at the moment. It had been obvious he’d been barely holding on to his cool.

And seeing Tanner shaken up wasn’t right. It was proof how desperately the whole family needed some help from her.

She wasn’t going to pretend she was a disinterested negotiator, not by a long shot. She loved the Wrights way
too much for that. But she did have at least a little extra distance.

So she agreed to meet Mako that afternoon. When she knew Tanner would be in a meeting with WavePro.

The deception was making her sick to her stomach. Even walking along San Sebastian’s streets during the midafternoon siesta lull wasn’t enough to break through her tension.

At the back door to Wright Break, she turned in. Sage’s music blared with heavy guitar riffs. White dust flew through the air, the only snow this place would see for years and years.

But it wasn’t really snow. It was foam sanded off the polyurethane blanks used for the boards.

“Hey, Sage,” Avalon yelled, her hands cupped around her mouth to amplify the sound.

But the blonde still didn’t hear her. She had respiratory gear covering the bottom half of her face, and protective glasses, because God only knew what Eileen would do if she came back here and her only daughter wasn’t protecting her health. But the wrinkles of concentration on Sage’s forehead were pretty obvious.

Avalon yelled her name again.

This time, she must have heard. Her head came up. But getting everything set in order to have a conversation was a bit more complicated and one of the reasons why she really tried to never bother Sage at work.

Avalon knew the disasters that could come of interrupted creativity.

She thumbed off the power sander, then tugged her mask down. The sander went down on the white foam blank that would eventually become a surfboard. Then
the goggles slid up over her ponytail. Worry creased the corners of her eyes. “Everything okay?”

Avalon smiled. Her hand curled around the strap of her camera bag, strung across her chest. “No one’s dying, if that’s what you mean.”

Sage rolled her eyes. “Once. I throw a diva fit exactly once and no one ever lets me live it down.”

“Why should we?” Avalon slipped her bag off and set it down next to Sage’s drafting board. On the floor, though. There was no chance of finding room among Sage’s normal clutter and disarray. Post-it notes scribbled with fin designs, cutout pictures of waves—none taken by Avalon, she was quick to note—diagrams of board cross-sections. None of it made sense to Avalon, but all of it worked for Sage.

Pretty well, in fact.

Sage had already made a name for herself as a maker of crisp boards that slid over the water with the efficiency of skim boards and the maneuverability of fish. But the extra little kick and grip was all her own. Surfers could simply
move
on one of Sage’s boards and they were willing to pay well for the privilege. Tanner regularly riding Sage’s boards didn’t hurt, but she’d kept her operation artisan-level small.

Reaching into the half-sized fridge she kept in the corner, Sage pulled out two waters and waggled one in Avalon’s direction. She nodded, then caught the bottle in the air when Sage tossed it.

“Out back?” There was a worn silver picnic table kept out there for breaks for both the store and Sage’s shop.

Sage nodded. “Sure.”

Avalon hopped on the top surface of the table, her
feet on the bench. She leaned her arms on her knees and curled down into herself. Almost as if to underscore Avalon’s failure to find her calm center, Sage stretched out. She planted her ass on the bench, hitched her elbows backward onto the tabletop and cranked her incredibly long legs forward.

The table under Avalon had sucked up the warmth of a hundred suns, and gave back in a steady comfort. She’d always liked it back here, even though it was mostly a tiny courtyard of stucco walls. It was clean and quiet. Eileen wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sage cracked her bottle of water open and drank a third of it in one swig. Avalon sipped at hers.

The weird tension gripping her limbs wasn’t going away. But then, she didn’t know why she’d expect any different. Sage could ride out silence without worry; she’d always had that gift. She let go and took what was coming.

Sometimes it drove Avalon batshit crazy. Sometimes she wanted to be like her.

The tiny plastic top of her own water snapped open with a twist as she fidgeted with it. She bounced her heels on the bench.

Sage swatted at her calf. “Quit that.”

“Sorry.”

But Sage didn’t take the opportunity to open conversation. Of course. Any other woman would have been curious why Avalon said she needed to talk.

So she’d have to start the conversation herself.

Fuck, she hated this.

She swallowed down the anxiety, willing her heart to beat calmer. It didn’t work. “Where will you move your shop if your mom sells Wright Break?”

Sage shrugged. She still had white dust clinging to her
sweaty shoulders and thin-strapped tank top. “There’s a place down on Seventeenth that I was looking at yesterday. It’s got good light, excellent ventilation.”

Avalon couldn’t help but gasp. It felt as sharp and hurtful as betrayal and it didn’t make one speck of difference that it wasn’t logical. This whole situation was leaving her flipped upside down. Even the fact that she’d been stupid enough to agree to meet with Mako made her sick to her stomach. But he’d hinted there’d be possible consequences if she didn’t. Sudden tears burned at the back of her eyes. She forced her gaze down to her knees. “You’re going to give up?”

A thick wash of confusion twisted Sage’s clear features. “Give up? What?”

“Your mom can’t close this place. She’s not old enough to retire. What will she do?”

Sage smiled. “China, apparently.”

“What?”

“She said last night—when you were out,
again
, mind you”—Sage waved the bottle of water at Avalon in mock chiding, a disappointed schoolmarm look on her face—“that she’s always wanted to go to China.”

“No way. She’s never said that before.” A dull shock went through Avalon. She set the bottle of water to her side, the better to twist her fingers together.

Sage shrugged. “Apparently she’s always felt silly for wanting it. When she traveled so much with Dad, you know? Like she should have been Zen and enjoyed seeing what she did. Lots of places with extensive beaches.”

“While she sipped mai tais on the sand. Not such a hard gig.”

“Except when it is.” Sage hitched her elbows out a few inches, the better to lean back. Her hair brushed
against the table, golden strands snagging against rough wood. “Except when you’d rather be drinking . . .” She sat up abruptly. “I don’t know. What’s something authentically Chinese? Not Panda Express–style?”

Avalon shrugged. “Coca-Cola? I think I heard it’s huge over there.”

Sage’s toes poked Avalon’s thigh. “Very, very funny.”

“You keep me around for a reason.” God only knew it was the truth. Would become more so the truth too, if she could iron out the situation with Mako. Make sure that even if not everyone was
happy
that things were at least improved.

That was kind of her gig, after all.

Her mind tripped a hundred miles an hour. No decisions had been made yet. And there was nothing that said Eileen couldn’t both own the store and go to China. People took vacations all the time.

“Has she made up her mind?”

Sage pulled a face. “Of course not. This is a huge thing. And half the time, I think she’s still in a fog from . . . the other stuff.”

Something sharp and weepy lanced behind Avalon’s eyes. The man she’d loved like a father—the man she’d thought better than anyone she’d ever met—had done something horrible.

Even worse than that, he’d kept it up.

One of her brightest memories was standing on the shore with Hank’s arm around her shoulders while he explained that everyone made mistakes. But what set good people apart was the willingness to own up to mistakes and make them better.

Not hide them for decades. Not forcing his son to hide for him.

She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. If she was meeting with Mako this afternoon, she needed all the pieces. To know exactly what she was dealing with. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Have you thought about buying your mom out of the store?”

Sage shook her head in denial. “Nope. Got enough on my plate.”

She was tempted to invite Sage along to the meeting, especially since the other woman had always been better at staying steady. Avalon always felt like she was pinging along at supersonic speed. But Mako had asked to talk to Avalon, saying that he wasn’t getting anywhere with anyone else. He’d earned the stonewall treatment, but Avalon knew people like him. Knew the trouble they could get up to. Sometimes the Wright family was too
good
for their own good. They couldn’t imagine anything worse than the article that was already on its way out. Thanks to her mom’s world, Avalon knew how shady people could get.

And Sage, for all her calm, seemed to feel things on a deeper level. Took them more personally.

Avalon wasn’t about to expose her closest friend to more pain than needed. That was half her mission in the family, after all. To be a buffer, to make things
work
in the best possible way.

“What about . . .” She took a deep swallow of water, which chilled her throat but couldn’t cool her worry. “Mako. Does your mom want to meet Mako? Have you thought about it?”

“I don’t know about Mom.” Sage sighed. “Me . . . I think I’ll want to get to know him sometime. Eventually,
you know? Even if he keeps being an asshole. Better than someone unknown.” Her fingers closed around the water bottle, until the plastic crinkled under the pressure.

Sage set the bottle to the side, flashing a weak imitation of her normal smile. When she laced her fingers together, her knuckles popped white, but she drew long, slow breaths. Intentionally, it seemed.

The Wrights were good people. They deserved a good life. And she’d do anything in her power to make it happen. Even if that meant acknowledging another Wright. They’d thank Avalon in the long run if it tempered Mako.

But even if they didn’t, it’d be worth it to help them after they’d done so much for her.

She slipped off the table, then brushed off the back of her thighs. Sand clung to everything given the first opportunity. “I’ll catch you on the flip side, babe.”

Sage pulled her long blond hair out of its ponytail and ran a hand through it, flipping it to one shoulder. “Wait a second. I thought you wanted to talk to me.”

Avalon wasn’t exactly content, but at least her stomach had quit doing backflips. She already had her answer. “I did.” She smiled. She’d always been good at teasing a smile out of Sage. Considered it one of her duties, in a way. The girl was prone to hitting a point at that steady calm where nothing could shake her. “Didn’t you notice my mouth moving? Voice coming out?”

“Sure, but mine was running way more.” She flashed a devious look from under her lashes. “Tanner. Please tell me you wanted to talk about Tanner.”

Avalon shook her head almost frantically, then had to scrape a piece of hair away from the corner of her mouth. “No.”

“C’mon,” Sage wheedled. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I am
so
not talking to you about him.”

“Any other guy you would. And it’s not like I want details.” Sage shuddered. “Not at all. I want to know where you guys are headed.”

Looking off at the plain stucco wall, Avalon bit the tip of her tongue. A sharp tingle of pain worked its way up her jaw, but she couldn’t seem to center. Nothing ever worked for her. “I’m not sure we’re headed anywhere. We’re having a good time.” She grinned at Sage. “Summer fling. You should try one. When’s the last time you got some?”

Sage lifted from her seat in a show of grace that was this side of levitation. “No way. I don’t need some.”

“Your girl parts are going to wither.”

“Then let ’em.” She redid her ponytail with a couple quick snaps of a rubber band. “Everyone I have the
time
to know lately is a surfer. And the absolute last thing I need is a surfer.”

“Oh, but I need one?”

“Sure.” Her eyes lit up. “In fact, you should
marry
him. Oh, that’s brilliant. Marry him, let him go off on the circuit and then you’ll be my sister for real! I’m a genius.”