Lorelie Brown - Riding the Wave

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.

Avalon 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.