CHAPTER 2
Mila
I carefully descend the stairs taking me below deck. We’ve rented a small boat today for just the two so we can try out surfing.
The boat is cute and kind of quaint even. It’s definitely not big but that’s perfect. It just puts the two of us closer together.
I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw Owen at the airport. I thought for sure someone was playing a trick on me.
I have no idea why he left my dad’s security detail, but I sure was sad to see him go. I was heartbroken actually.
Looking back on it I knew at the time what I had for my bodyguard was a huge crush. I was only eighteen, but I considered myself a little bit of an old soul. Being the illegitimate child of a sitting U.S. president really does a number on you. It causes you to either grow up really fast or go crazy. I don’t think there’s much of an in-between.
And as far as Owen is concerned there was never an in-between.
I still remember the first time I saw him. I went to visit my dad at a small diner outside of Washington D.C. We got there really early in the morning and it was just the two of us. It’s one of the few times I felt like my dad wasn't looking over his shoulder for cameras, probably because he had another man to do it for him...a man he could trust, at least those were his thoughts at the time. That was Owen and that was the first time I ever laid eyes on him. I was hooked immediately.
The diner from that morning is super old-school…no security cameras or anything like that. There’s just one guy who works a grill and he makes breakfast foods like you’ve never tasted. That’s it. He starts around four a.m. and his day is over by about 2 p.m. We’re there early, but sometimes I wish it were later.
It would be nice to do things like a family more often…just the two of us. I know it would be devastating if the media found out about me, and it really messes with my mind. I want to love my dad and I think he wants to love me, but sometimes I’m not sure. I wonder if I’m more of a burden than anything else.
But what was never a burden was staring at Owen. The type of guy who gets involved in personal protection is rugged, tough, and has an honor code. It’s a universal thing. To say that these guys are alphas is an understatement. But there was always something different about Owen.
Sometimes the other guys seemed more like man-children. Huge guys, but you knew in their off time they were playing video games, chugging beers, and talking about getting laid. Never Owen.
My dad assigned him to me a lot of times because he was different. At least that’s what I always though. Owen was more mature and my dad wanted that kind of presence around me. Plus I liked him…too much in fact.
I used to dream that when we went places we were on dates, and not that he was there just to watch after me. It felt real sometimes. He had to wear civilian clothes and act normal. People probably just thought he was my dad or something due to our age difference. I didn’t care. Let them stare. I was doing the same…to him.
And that’s exactly what I want him to do today. To stare. I know he’s going to try and pretend like he’s not, but he will. Oh will he ever. I’m going to make sure of it.
I packed a bunch of swimsuits not sure which one I’d be needing. Since it’s Owen it can be only one.
I dig in my bag and pull out the white one. The tiny two-piece.
I bought it a few years ago and it fit then, but I’ve grown and developed quite a bit since then. I haven’t worn it in over a year. I know I’ll be able to push and pull and twist and turn and tuck and shift and get everything squeezed into it, but will anything accidentally pop out? And will Owen’s eyes pop out of his head when he sees me.
I stand in front of the mirror and laugh. Oh yeah…it’s way too small. Perfect!
I climb back up the stairs and watch as Owen catches a peek down my front. Does he think I didn’t notice that double take? He may have sunglasses on, but that doesn’t hide that little twitch his head did as he took a second glance.
First round to me.
But I’m in this for the long haul. As much as I want to use my body for a quick knockout punch I know this fight is going the distance, and it’s going to take a lot of stamina to win.
I laugh at the boxing analogy. I’m already thinking like him. He was a Golden Gloves champion in his younger days. It’s easy to see why.
He’s wearing a pair of shorts with a five or six inch inseam. He looks like a real man, not like a boy in surf trunks that go down well past his knees. They’re a khaki color and look a lot like those old school military issue ones, not that I ever spent any time on Google images staring at pictures of guys wearing them.
He surely had military training. I would guess Navy SEAL or maybe Marines. He’d never tell me, even though I’ve asked what seems like thousands of times already.
He’s got on a navy blue T-shirt, and I’m going to do everything I can to get it off.
“Surfboards ready?” I ask.
“How do you expect to go surfing in that?” he asks. His body is still, but I know his eyes are moving up and down my body.
“What do mean? We’re at the beach. What do you want me to wear, a business suit?”
“Well for starters maybe a rash guard so you don’t scratch up your…those…so you don’t get a rash.”
I love that he’s getting flustered, and he’s not the only one. My horniness is rising like the waves near our boat and I want him to ride me all the way in.
“I won’t get a rash. I’ll be fine. Let’s go,” I say. I grab a surfboard.
“Have you ever even tried surfing before?” he asks.
“No. It’s perfect that way. I don’t have any bad habits so when you teach me I’ll be a great student.”
“Who said I know anything about surfing?”
“You used to surf when you were in San Diego, right?”
“Nice try,” he says.
I’m still hoping to find out if he was at Coronado with the SEALs or maybe Miramar with the Marines.
“Can you surf then?” I ask.
“Some, but I’m not a professional or anything.” Just when I think he might be considering it he catches himself. “But I need to stay and watch the boat anyways.”
“What a whale’s going to come and steal it?”
“It could drift away.”
“I saw you lower the anchor.”
“Two anchors,” he says. “We need to stay safe and that’s why I’m here…to make sure nothing happens to you.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me, unless of course…”
“Why me, lord?”
I laugh.
“Okay then. I know you’re going to see how much fun I’m having and then you’ll jump in and join me.”
“I’ll be fine right here.”
“Well are you at least going to get a tan? A farmer’s tan is definitely not a good look.”
“I’ll get plenty of sun. Thank you.”
Round two to Owen.
I grab the board and try and maneuver across the deck.
“Let me help you,” he says. He takes the giant surfboard like it’s a twig, grabbing it by the side rail with only his finger on one hand. The thing must be nine feet long. The length doesn’t seem to bother him, and I know his length wouldn’t bother me one bit. Not…at…all.
“It’s easier If I toss it in and then you just swim to it,” he says.
“Are you going to toss it in fast or slow,” I ask.
“Fast or slow?” He suddenly catches my joke and through the tint of his sunglasses I seem him roll his eyes just before he tosses my board overboard. And then suddenly he laughs, just a little. It’s not even a full laugh, but even better it turns into a smirk and I’m caught staring.
“It’s going to float away if you don’t go after it,” he says.
“I’ll go after it. And I’ll get it,” I say.
I turn and jump overboard going for the biggest cannonball splash I can.
When I come up I see that I’ve got him. His shirt is wet.
“Just go,” he says as he motions with the back of his hand to leave.
I swim toward my board for a few strokes then turn back just in time to see him lifting that shirt up and over his head.
I feel my nipples harden at both the sight of it and the freshness of the ocean.
“Now you’re ready!” I say as he finishes removing his shirt. I doggie paddle in place just staring at him.
I turn to swim toward my board and a fin passes right in front of me.
I panic immediately.
“Shark!” I yell.