Riding the Wave (15 page)

“Oh, fuck no,” Avalon said automatically.

But she didn’t want to admit how damned good that idea was starting to sound.

T
anner really tried not to get a big head about all the bullshit surrounding his surf career. He had skill and determination and he’d been lucky enough to get his start both young and well. For all his faults, Hank Wright had been a pretty damn good surf coach.

But the way the WavePro staff treated him when he walked in the offices could almost convince him he shit rainbows.

As if seeing his own face life-sized on the walls wasn’t enough, they ushered him into a fancy boardroom with a black marble-topped table.

The chairs were some miracle of chrome and black webbing that felt really good after the five miles he’d run that morning and the three hours he’d spent on the water when the tide was up. He didn’t have time to screw around. The San Sebastian Pro was right around the corner.

After an hour-long meeting, he was pretty much zoned. His manager and his accountant rattled on at length with almost half a dozen reps from WavePro.

Normally he’d be all over a meeting like this. He liked to understand the figures they were working with and
what kind of responsibilities his people were signing him up for. But with everything else that was going on in his life, he kind of figured that WavePro was lucky he could still keep his game on the surfing.

Avalon had been up to something. The way her gaze flicked away when he’d asked what she’d been talking to Mako for . . . It had lying written all over it.

If they actually had a future, he’d have made something of it. Not let her duck and weave.

While he couldn’t deny they had a relationship anymore—and he wouldn’t want to, either—neither of them had discussed any sort of continuation.

Though he didn’t want to admit how much that bothered him. There was no reason to think why they couldn’t at least give it a shot. If the spread for WavePro did its job on Avalon’s behalf, there was every chance she’d soon be traveling the world as a
SURFING
photographer. Or under the employ of one of the bigger sponsors. There was no guarantee she’d follow the circuit, though. She could just as easily focus on the big-wave surfers and stick to the North Shore of Hawaii. Or follow free surfers to less traveled locales.

He thrummed a rhythm on the tabletop, chin propped in his other hand. The real problem was that Avalon had never shown any sign of wanting more than some orgasms from him.

At least he’d made sure they were freaking awesome comes. That should keep her around a little while longer.

Though her propensity to lie to him made him a little bit nervous.

Not much of a relationship foundation, as far as habits went.

He’d have to get the truth out of her.

Maybe he’d fuck it out of her. Get his hands all over that tidy little body, get his cock in her, watch her cheeks go red as she came all over him. He had to curl his hands over his mouth to hide the smile.

Good fucking times.

Pun intended.

“Tanner?” Mike Wolchoky, the brilliant man who made sure that Tanner’s money kept growing no matter how many surfboards he bought, waved a pencil in his direction. “Do you approve?”

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his head. A tiny bit of heat burned across his neck. Not embarrassment, though. He’d have to be caught at a lot worse than thinking dirty thoughts about Avalon to admit to being embarrassed.

More like disturbed to not be paying proper attention to the meeting.

He grunted as he shifted in his chair. Thankfully Edwin Timbersand sat to his right. Tanner lifted his eyebrows toward his manager. “Best choice for me?”

Ed nodded, then folded his hands over the files he’d brought along. “By far. Advantageous to WavePro too. We ought to get this locked down.”

The faith he had in his manager had always been worth it. Ed would explain everything afterward, once Tanner needed to know.

The man’s job was to keep Tanner’s head in the water, so he might as well let him work.

Tanner nodded, then spread his hands flat across the glossy surface of the table and levered up. “In that case, I’m going to leave you fine gentlemen to it.”

A quick round of farewells ended with Tanner
standing alone in the foyer. He shoved his fists in his pockets while wondering where he needed to go.

What he wanted was an easy call: to see Avalon. Make her smile, make her laugh and relax. Then make her come, so her lips would part on a gasp in that special way they did.

But then, Avalon had lied to him. So his first stop would be figuring that tangled mess out.

And that didn’t sound near as good as making her come.

A tiny, pretty blonde sat behind the receptionist’s desk. She smiled at him even as her chest managed to raise another inch. Amazing, considering how far silicone had already artificially lifted ’em.

There was no way the girl surfed, not like Avalon.

She gestured back over her shoulder. “Don’t forget about the goodie room.”

As if he were some wet-behind-the-ears noob who’d never been to WavePro before. But he only nodded. “Thanks.”

Might as well do with a stop, anyway.

The size of a small office, the room was packed with shelves and Tupperware bins stocked with every goodie WavePro had ever made. And some, Tanner realized as he picked up a key chain/beer koozie combo, that had been made purely for promotion. Usually giveaways at the pro events.

Tanner wasn’t the only person in there, either.

A skinny-necked teenager crouched in the far corner, digging through a box of grips. Long, floppy brown hair fell in his eyes when he looked up at Tanner. He broke into one of the widest grins Tanner had ever seen as he bounded up.

“Yo, man, I can’t believe it’s you.” The kid was really all mouth, it seemed. If he smiled any bigger, the top of his head might pop off. “I knew there was a shot you’d be here, but I didn’t think it was that likely.”

Tanner stuck a hand out. The boy shook like a puppy—and he had the lanky, oversized paws of one too. He hadn’t fully grown into his body.

“Ethan Bells,” he said. “So stoked to meet you.”

Tanner couldn’t help but laugh. Hell, this was half of why he did it. Because he’d been that bright-eyed, enthusiastic kid once, and more than that, still remembered it as if it were yesterday.

“I think I’ve heard of you,” Tanner said. He had to scan way back in his memory, but it was there. He liked to keep an eye on the up-and-comers. “Junior Pro two years ago?”

“Yep, that was me.” There was no way it would have seemed possible, but his grin went even bigger at being acknowledged. “I qualified for next year’s world circuit.”

“Congrats, man.” Tanner leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. “That’s huge, you ought to be proud.”

“I totally am. My dad’s even more stoked. He’s meeting with all the bigwigs and all.”

“Your dad your manager?” Tanner remembered those days. His first year on the circuit. Having his dad at his side had felt like the right thing to do. That had been before he’d known the truth.

Ethan nodded. “They sent me down here to, like, get out of the way.” But his grin said he didn’t mind at all. He flashed a handful of gear. “I was looking for a new set of fins.”

“What ride are you gonna be on?”

But when Ethan told him, Tanner shook his head. He
popped open a different box, held up a set of fins that were longer, with less hook at the tip. “No, you need these.”

“You think?” The kid had pale eyes, but he squinted a lot. Probably avoiding glasses or contacts since wearing them in the water became awkward. Probably didn’t help that his long hair was barely shy of tumbling into his eyes and he was constantly brushing it away. “I saw footage of your air in Indo. You were climbing with the long rakes.”

Tanner moved past him and went to a knee next to the trunk. “Nope. I’ve got three inches and forty pounds on you. You need different stuff.”

He paused for a moment, but then shrugged and tossed the grip back in the stack. The boy knelt beside Tanner, eagerly looking to him for advice. “Yeah? You think I can grab like you did?”

“Well, it depends.” Tanner rocked back on his heels, knees rising.

“On what?”

“Lot of factors, of course.”

That easily, they dropped into the back-and-forth. Ethan would go places—that much was for sure. He had the eager enthusiasm the circuit needed and the willingness to unbend and listen to outside opinions, which were invaluable. But at the same time, he didn’t agree blindly. He asked pointed questions about technique that Tanner sure as hell wouldn’t have thought to ask at his age.

Tanner liked this part. The little rush from knowing he was giving good guidance. The feeling that he’d done the right thing and let loose a little more knowledge in the world. Good stuff, every bit of it.

They ended up back in the lobby, still talking
technique. Ethan had some vids of his surfing on his phone, so Tanner watched them to figure out if the kid was slipping on his back foot.

“No, right there,” he said, tapping the screen. “It’s actually your shoulders. You’re not twisting far enough.”

“Yeah, you think?”

He nodded. “Betcha anything. I tell you what, why don’t we meet up? After the Pro, though, if that’s cool.”

Shaggy dark hair wagged as Ethan nodded. “Sure, yeah. Wow, man. I thought all the old guys on the circuit would be rougher on me. Make me earn my place or something.”

Tanner winced at the implication he was washed up. In a way, he almost was. If he didn’t win the Pro, he’d be in a rough spot. It was entirely the reason Ed had maneuvered WavePro to today’s meeting. The money was in the bag. WavePro paid well, and Tanner had invested well. There was no chance he’d ever be hurting financially. But there would be face lost if he didn’t put together a World Championship win after being this damn close. His pride would take a beating.

And really, if he was going to be washed up at thirty-one, he might as well put the rest of his time to use.

Coaching was as good a use as any.

Hell, it sounded good. Damned good. A way to be out on the water and help out grommets at the same time.

Maybe he could work with that.

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, grinning. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure there’ll be someone who tries to feed you to the sharks. Or snakes wave after wave off you.” He shrugged. “But it’s never really been my style.”

He liked the younger set. The best way to shape the future of surfing was by getting his hands on them.

They traded phone numbers; then Ethan’s dad came to collect him and Tanner was left alone in the lobby. He slipped his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels.

He’d have that kid blowing so high, he’d be competing with the seagulls for breathing room.

The thought made him smile. Straight on the heels of that came the impulse to tell Avalon. Maybe while he was kissing along her neck.

When he hit that certain spot high on her shoulder, she practically became putty in his hands.

That settled it. There was no way he was letting that girl go, not that damn easily. He’d never been so obsessed with a woman before. He wanted to know every thought in her head.

He’d always loved a challenge.

A
valon tugged down the hem of her skirt. Futilely. The bright green tissue-paper silk thing would barely cover a sneeze.

But damn did her legs look awesome.

When Tanner held out a hand to assist her from the car, she put her fingers in his. The warmth of his gaze never left her face.

Unlike the two dark-red-jacketed valets who stood at the nearby podium while their buddy dashed around the front of Tanner’s car. Their eyes were firmly glued to her legs.

She smoothed down the fabric again, thankful her nerves hadn’t yet extended to sweaty palms. The marks would be impossible to get out of the silk.

Tanner squeezed her fingers. “You look gorgeous.”

She resisted rolling her eyes, but still tucked her hand under his elbow and aligned her body with his. That part always came easily. “I know I look good.” Her profession meant hours and hours of exercise as a matter of course. The rest was just a great haircut and carefully applied makeup. “The question is whether I look appropriate.”

For the WavePro meet and greet, she’d have picked a pair of black slacks along with a top that drew minimal attention. After all, she was essentially an employee, as far as she figured. No need to draw extra attention to herself.

But Tanner had said hell no. That she was talent, not employee. That he’d never seen any of the male photographers keeping themselves in corners. More than that, the bigwigs wouldn’t want their pictures taken when they were busy getting lit and hitting on surfer chicks.

And then he’d demanded a fashion show. Sprawled over her bed, he’d insisted she show him every possible party outfit she had, which ended with his face hanging off the bed while she stood above him, trying to hold the bedpost to stay upright while he licked her into another huge come.

In the end, her head still swimmy with what he could do to her, she’d given in. Figured he knew what he was talking about.

She’d drawn the line at letting him pick the outfit, though. He’d have wanted the tiny green skirt paired with an equally tiny shirt. Instead she’d worn a high-necked black cotton shirt that draped low in the back, showing off a long, bare expanse. Not a bra in sight.

A fact that Tanner was taking intense interest in. He rested a hand low on her spine, the brush of his thumb over her bare skin sending calming ripples through her.

But at the same time, she couldn’t relax. Not too much. There was too much on the line.

She had to impress everyone tonight. Her photos would have to hold their own merit, yes, but this was playing with the big boys. No room for error, no room to come off as the little sister who’d wandered into the big kids’ party.

And what a big kids’ party it was. The ballroom of the San Sebastian Wave Club—where the rich people in town
congregated when there was no land for a golf course—was an absolutely gorgeous place. Tiny white lights twinkled as the primary decoration, matching white flowers their only counterpoint.

She wanted to relax into it all. Have a great time. Let everything go.

But she still hadn’t told Tanner about her meeting with Mako. About what Mako threatened.

Her bones felt like lead as they stepped down the tiny stairs that marked the ballroom’s entrance. Heads turned to watch Tanner. Of course they did. In black slacks very similar to the ones he’d told her not to wear, paired with a white-on-white-striped shirt, he looked this side of a god. Since she’d watched him get ready, she knew his hair hadn’t been styled into that careful-looking tousled mess.

She’d done it. Weaving her fingers through, trying to grab hold of him, while he kissed her into oblivion.

They’d almost been late.

The smile was absolutely irresistible.

Her chin rose an inch to go with it.

“There we go,” Tanner’s voice purred, right above her ear. If he wasn’t careful, everyone was going to know about the two of them.

The question remained whether she’d mind. “What?”

“I thought you might crack from nerves. You’ve been a wreck all day.”

He smiled down at her. The warmth that flowed through her helped her get as close to a calm center as she’d ever thought herself capable.

She didn’t even know how to classify what she felt for him. More than a friend, less than forever. Because forever was too painful to try to grab hold of when it never even existed.

The moisture in her mouth dried and fled. Suddenly every tiny worry about impressing the company bosses scattered.

She pushed her lips up into a smile. “You’re a good guy, Tanner.”

He laughed softly. “Yes. You wanna make something of it?”

“No.” She shook her head, ignoring the tiny prick at the back of her eyes. If she didn’t give in, the tears didn’t count. “Just pointing it out.”

“Remember that one for later. I figure it should give me some points.” He tugged her around to face the rest of the ballroom. “Now, chin up. The bosses are on the way. Remember, this isn’t your opportunity, it’s theirs.”

Her gaze flashed to him, but it was too late. The Mutt and Jeff pair of bosses walked up, both carrying two glasses of champagne. Mr. Wakowski handed one to Tanner at the same moment Mr. Palmer handed the other to Avalon.

In an absurd flash of amusement, she wondered if they’d practiced the maneuver. She bit down the giggles and took the fluted glass with a tiny murmur of thanks.

Mr. Wakowski grinned, his gray hair actually catching a ray of the light. “Here’s to a great year.”

“And another upcoming,” added Mr. Palmer, though with decidedly less grace than his counterpart. He’d been the one who hadn’t wanted Avalon to catch the assignment, so it made sense.

Tanner smiled, but by now Avalon knew him well enough that the whitening of his scar gave him away. Something was wrong.

She wanted to take his hand, but that would be a level too far. She couldn’t afford to flaunt their relationship. She wanted her pictures to be able to speak for themselves.

Instead, she flashed a smile at the other two men. “That’s a toast I’ll always agree to.”

Tanner shook off whatever it was that had grabbed him and added in his own smile. He lifted his glass. “To highly productive partnerships.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Wakowski’s cuff links gleamed silver as he downed half his glass. “We at WavePro are thrilled to have you with us another year.”

The shorter man’s eyes narrowed with a pernicious interest. “Are you sure there’s no chance you’ll be hitting the circuit again? You’ve qualified. The opportunity is there.”

Tanner rubbed an idle hand over his thigh even as he shook his head. “No, I don’t see it.”

Avalon paused with her wineglass at her lips. Effervescent bubbles tried to counteract the sudden clench in her chest. Tanner wasn’t even going out on the circuit next year? That had never been mentioned.

“No matter, no matter,” chimed in Mr. Palmer. The two were reminiscent of a fast-patter comedy act. “At least WavePro has the opportunity to be in on your new venture.”

Tanner waved a hand, slanting a look out of the corner of his eye at Avalon. “If it happens, of course. It’s only in the planning stages.”

“Still, it’ll be great to have you local. San Sebastian could do with a really top-level surf school. The local talent is already top-notch. Polishing can’t hurt.”

“A surf school?” The words spilled out of her.

Pride made Tanner’s shoulders lift. “An idea I had the other day. How I might spend my time after I leave the circuit. And I’ll buy out Mom’s store, like you wanted. I’ve already talked to a couple investors, plus Ed’s looking into it. Could be a viable idea.”

A bright splash of hope made her eyes widen and her lips part. But just as quickly, it was doused with a stronger wave of something Avalon didn’t even know how to describe. The absence of hope was an emotion all of its own, wasn’t it? Something sickly and tense and living in dark tendrils that wrapped around everything.

Tanner hadn’t said a word to her.

Mr. Wakowski nodded along with his partner, absolutely oblivious to what was going on in her head. “Plus, with the high-income communities in proximity, there will be plenty of students who are more leisure based rather than career intensive.”

That easily, the pair of them were off on a discussion on the socioeconomic responsibilities of surf companies toward bringing lesser privileged surfers to the beach versus the need to woo those with disposable income.

Avalon’s fingers pinched her wineglass. A sick knot churned in her chest, while her heartbeat rushed out of control.

Tanner flashed her a little smile, inviting her to laugh with him about being left out of the conversation. But when she didn’t smile back, confusion clouded his eyes and made him frown.

She managed to endure awhile. An hour or two. She faded in and out when the conversations didn’t pertain to her, watching the roll of the waves through the giant westward-facing windows.

Tanner kept darting glances at her. Eventually he must have had enough. Pulling her through open French doors didn’t prove difficult. She went as if walking through sea spray, slightly lost and foggy.

The cool breeze coming in off the ocean cooled her overheated cheeks and shook the cobwebs out of her
head. She couldn’t afford to be ridiculous about this. The family as a whole was her concern.

What she and Tanner had been sharing was like happy bonus land. Not the main game.

By the time she curled her hands around the railing that overlooked the beach, she’d managed to smile. “Who makes a beach club, fences off the beach, and then doesn’t even pay attention to it during a party?”

“Very rich people.”

Tanner nestled up behind her, the full and solid weight of him at her back a reassurance. He grabbed the fence around her, caging her in, but she didn’t feel trapped. She felt relieved. His chin brushed her temple, then his lips. The way he nuzzled her gave her back those tender feelings.

The ones she couldn’t indulge. Because he obviously didn’t mean them, not the way she wanted him to.

“Are you okay?” His voice sent another whisper of temptation through her.

What she wanted was to turn and bury her face in his chest. Rub her cheek over the warm expanse of his shirt. Instead, she blinked down the burn of tears that threatened and stared at the water. Dark and glimmering at the same time.

At least the ocean never changed. Never went anywhere.

Even if she could never quite capture what the water meant to her in her photographs, she could try forever. Over and over again. Because age didn’t matter.

Unlike Tanner.

In the past week, he’d made plans. Big plans. Ones that apparently didn’t include her at all, even though she’d been the one to suggest he take over his mom’s shop.
Sure, she’d meant continuing retail, but it’s not like she’d have been totally closed to other possibilities. Not so long as the Wright name stayed stamped over the door.

By the time she twisted inside the gentle trap of his arms, she’d managed to push it all away. If now was all they had, then she’d make sure it was memorable.

He might be able to put her away, but she wasn’t going to let him do it as easily as Matthew had dropped her. She wasn’t going quietly.

She trailed her nails over his shirtfront. “I’m fine. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Back there. About the school idea . . .” He cupped her shoulders, his big hands shoring her up. “It’s still exactly that. An idea.”

“You already went to WavePro.”

“I had the idea while I was there, that’s all. Bullshitted it out with a few of them during contract negotiations.”

She pushed up on her toes. Kissed him, softly. There was one way to make sure a man’s mouth didn’t run anymore. And she didn’t think she could listen to any more of this without her heart breaking.

Which said really, truly scary things about the state of her heart.

So she kissed him harder. She shouldn’t have, considering the doors right behind them, and how they could be spotted at any moment, but she couldn’t resist him. Not when she didn’t have any other choices at the moment. She swept her tongue into his mouth, taking all she could. All he was willing to give.

Because she’d wanted him too hard and too long to give up now.