Three

Misha

Without surfing in my life I’m not sure I would have made it through college in one piece. Being out on the water, waiting for the perfect wave had served as my own form of therapy. Everyone thought I needed therapy to cope with being a sixteen-year-old college freshman and then when I turned eighteen they worried about me dating older men. But surfing did more than telling a stranger my problems, so I stuck with it, and encouraged certain clients to do the same. I shouldn’t be good at it, given how top heavy I am or so many surfers have told me, but a guy I liked freshman year of college taught me and I fell in love. With the guy who, it turned out, just wanted my help in biology. I kept surfing and dropped the guy.

Before mid-terms.

Ethan was a man who could use the calm necessary to master surfing. Waiting for the perfect wave was key, because you couldn’t speed nature along and Ethan Mahoney seemed like a man who made things happen. This would be an exercise in giving up control, which was exactly what he needed. But I wouldn’t tell him that because the man was already skeptical. He did a good job of hiding it but he couldn’t hide it all.

Hot. Damn. Ethan dressed in jeans and a t-shirt was scorching hot. Ethan wearing half a wet suit was devastating. Broad shoulders, strong and square tapered down to a sculpted chest and narrow waist, made even more gorgeous by this six, no eight pack that stopped at the waist. He carried himself with confidence, like a man assured of his place in the world. I waved, taking in his long languid strides and the cloak of unease he wore.

I waved him in, looking over my shoulder to see the perfect wave coming in. The perfect moment came and I pushed up onto my feet, core tight and knees slightly bent and felt the spray of the wave on my skin. It didn’t last long but damn it felt good. When I got my bearings and hopped back on my board, Ethan hadn’t made it far. “Good morning. How’s it going?”

“How’s it going?” He glowered at me. Until that moment I could have said that no one had ever glowered at me. “It’s six in the morning, how do you think it’s going ?”

I shrugged, not put off by his grumpy ass. “Well I’m doing great and I’ve already been here for an hour.” I flashed him a satisfied smile and I knew it was because it’s the smile I wore every morning I made it into the water. “Do you plan to be grumpy all morning or do you want to learn how to surf?”

He frowned. “I’m not grumpy. And it isn’t even technically morning yet.” Arms crossed as he straddled the board he made a gorgeous sight, even if he was grumpy as hell.

“The sun is up, it’s morning.”

“You stayed up about nine seconds out there,” he said instead, outright questioning my skills.

“The wave was small, but if you think you can stay up for longer without my help, let’s paddle out.”

“Fine.”

I kept my mouth shut, knowing he’d need to try and fail on his own before admitting he needed help. Proud and strong. But I knew his perfectionist tendencies would finally get him to ask for help. “Did you sleep all right?”

He shrugged, eyes off in the distance as he paddled forward. “Okay I guess. Restless.” I saw that determined glint in his eyes and I knew he’d attempt this wave so I hung back and watched. I would’ve been better off looking directly at the sun, it would have been safer because the sight of Ethan from the back was splendid. Muscles rippled, actually rippled, as he leaned forward to assume the position that would allow him to stand. Miles of smooth brown skin shone under the morning sun and I tipped off my own board just to douse my sexy thoughts.

“I know what I did wrong.” He looked at me over his shoulder, probably expecting some advice or a smart-ass comment.

“Okay.”

He went for it again, showing me a glimpse of the determined man who’d left a lucrative modeling career to build an empire. His form was solid but he needed to work on the basics or he’d spend more of his time in the water rather than on it. When he made it back onto his board, Ethan flashed a sheepish grin and lifted his shoulders. “Maybe I could use a few pointers.”

Despite his whole man of the universe thing, he took direction well and fifteen minutes later we were back on the boards in the water. “Don’t be afraid to say the steps aloud if you need to,” I told him but he nodded absently, already focused on the incoming wave.

He hopped up and stayed on for about five seconds. Not great, but a solid effort for his first time. “Maybe next time.”

“You did good. Time will take care of the rest.” He looked so much like a little boy seeking approval that I was struck speechless for a moment. And for the first time I thought maybe I’d gotten a glimpse of the part of him he tried to hide from the rest of the world.

From there, the morning had been a success, at least from my perspective. We stayed close as surf traffic grew more and more congested, taking every other wave. Ethan was a good sport about surfing. By the time we were back on the sand I think he was a little in love with it too. “So, what’s next?”

I heard him, but removing my wetsuit without losing my bikini took every bit of concentration so I focused on that and then turned to him, and smirked at how hard he tried not to look at my body, specifically my breasts. Even though I was used to it, I appreciated his effort since most men stared blatantly and even went so far as to comment on my assets. As long as he looked at my face when he spoke and didn’t touch me, we were good. But the heat in his gaze had my body heating quickly against the Pacific chill and I averted my gaze. “What would you like to do?” He glared at me but I crossed my arms and glared back. It was important that he contribute to our time together. “You can’t just get through this Ethan, you have to participate or it won’t work.”

His blue eyes landed on me in a way I guessed was supposed to be intimidating, but instead highlighted the sharp edges of his cheekbones. “Seriously?”

Hands fisted on my hips. I nodded to show him I meant business.

“I would like to get back to work, but that’s off the table so what is this supposed to be?”

My jaws were clenched so tight I knew I’d need every ounce of patience I could muster to deal with this petulant version of him. “This is supposed to be me helping you, if you want it. Now if you don’t have a preference, I do. Get changed and meet me up by my car.” I yanked up my wetsuit and my board, and climbed the small sandy incline up to my car, parked in a regular spot for once since I’d gotten here so early.

“Hey, what about the other board?”

“Bring it up,” I yelled back, and opened the passenger door on my Escalade. I knew it wasn’t environmentally friendly and all that crap but I loved my car. It was gigantic, way too big for me and ate gas like crazy, but it had room for everything. Surfing, kayaking, picnics, hiking and of course, road trips. Plus, it was perfect for changing clothes after a morning spent surfing. It was kind of a balancing act and I preferred to get my bottoms off first and slip on a skirt and then my top. When Ethan finally found me, it was the moment after my skirt was on but before I had my shirt on.

“Where do you want…this?” His gaze took in my boobs spilling over my hands, tongue streaking across his bottom lip, then his top as his gaze darkened to night. He stared and his breathing got shallow before he realized where he was, or who I was. “Sorry. The board? Where should I put it?”

“You can just rest it against the back and I’ll strap it to the top.”

“I can do it,” he insisted in a very alpha way.

“How do you think I got them here and down to the beach before you got here?” I got tired of waiting for him to turn away so I grabbed the tank and slid it over my head and judging by the hiss he let out, he’d gotten more than an eyeful.

He grinned when I settled the shirt over my body. “I’d like to think you found some other big strapping man to lug them down for you.”

“You’d love that,” I told him and ducked under his arm on my way to the back of my car. Okay so it did take a few minutes to get one board all the way on top of the car and strapped in. The second took a little longer and I struggled when I felt two large hands grip my waist, lift me in the air and set me on the ground. “Hey!”

“Okay, step aside short stuff, I’ve got it.”

“Fine big man, I’m going to moisturize.” His deep laugh sounded as I slathered cocoa butter onto my legs and arms. Surfing and sand weren’t always kind to a girl’s skin which made moisturizer my best friend.

“Get in, I’m driving,” he said, startling me out of even more inappropriate thoughts.

“I don’t think so. We can take your car if you want, but I’m driving.” Why men had such a weird thing about letting a woman drive them around, I’d never know. “You might be a terrible driver,” I countered.

He shrugged and caught the keys I tossed at him. “Then we’ll have another thing for you to fix.”

“Smart ass,” I mumbled and hopped up into the passenger seat, watching with glee as he tried to maneuver his big body into my seat settings so he could fix them.

***

Ethan had done everything in his power to avoid talking and despite that, our first week together had passed with success. He seemed to loosen up when we were out together but whenever things were calm and quiet, he’d pick a fight with me. This week though, I told him to meet me at a small café in Hollywood. The Gilded Pig was posh by anyone’s standards, but at this time of day it was busy enough for pricey sandwiches to come easily and talking to come hard. Very hard.

If my guess was correct, Sam Stevens’ question had hit a sore spot and then memories had assaulted him as he sat there in that big white chair. His need to maintain composure had warred with the memories until the memories had won out. Today, I just wanted to see how he’d handle being out of his comfort zone.

“You couldn’t have chosen a more crowded place? Or at least a healthier one?” He stood at the table glaring down at me.

“I could have, but what would be the point?” I loved food, all kinds of food, at all times. People like Ethan confused me, worrying so much about what they ate and how much they slept. Healthy people got the same shit illnesses as everyone else. Including my mom. “Sit or stand and scowl, I like them both.” I smiled up at him and then turned back to the chalkboard menu on the table.

He chose to scowl until it became clear I wouldn’t be moved by his anger. Or his attempts at intimidation. “You’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Only always.” It was how I got people to listen to me. Being short and young were already two strikes against me and I found that bossing people around was the fastest way to get them to do the right thing without arguing about it. “Just look at the menu Ethan. I’m sure you can find something for your exalted tastes.”

He frowned at the taunt. “It’s not about my wealth Misha. It’s my health. Most of our food is filled with dyes, chemicals and hormones and I like to know what I’m putting into my body.”

“So you’re a vegan?”

He blinked, confused. “No.”

“Oh, because that’s the only real way to limit what hormones and dyes and chemicals you put in your body. I mean you never know what was planted before the grass that feeds those organic cattle and free roaming buffalo, but hey as long as you know where your line is—that’s what matters.” I didn’t normally do sarcasm with clients, well not often, but Ethan all flustered made it worth it.

“You’re a smart ass, you know that don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Fine.” He grumbled and finally looked at the menu while I hid my own smile from him. He wasn’t an easy man to beat, but he’d learn very soon that I was good at my job. Our sandwiches came, a thick creamy Rueben for me and a turkey breast with alfalfa sprouts for him. After all the calories expended surfing we ate in silence until our sandwiches were half gone. “Are you happy with the direction of your second career?”

“What?” I arched a brow rather than repeat the question. “Fine, yes I am happy. Of course, I am. I guess.”

He sounded about as certain as a slinky. “What are your favorite parts about it?”

“That’s easy. Research and design. How did you get started with this type of work?” The question was gruff and reluctant but it was a start.

“I kind of fell into it. With my psych specialty, I did my master’s thesis on performance psychology of athletes. Then I began studying soldiers and other performers and it kind of snowballed from there.” He grinned, looking completely focused on my words. “What’s so great about R&D?”

“Testing new products, seeing how each new ingredient enhances a product. Retesting until you get it just right.” His face lit up as he talked about the scientific parts of his job. “Have you ever been unable to help a client?”

I nodded. “Once,” and I hated talking about it but he deserved to know. “They weren’t ready to make certain changes and those changes were necessary for the rest to work. We spent a month together before I called it off and sent them off to recuperate.” A common euphemism in my world for rehab. “How did you enjoy your modeling career?”

He shrugged but his body went tense at the mention of it. “The money was great and I got to see a lot of the world, some of the most beautiful places I have yet to return to. But I didn’t like most of my coworkers, most of whom would have gladly stuck a knife in my back to further their career. It just got old.”

I doubted that was all that happened but that was progress. “Want dessert?”

“Do you know how much sugar—”

I cut off his words with a slice through the air. “A simple yes or no will do.”

“No.” He frowned, unhappy that I’d stopped another lecture.

“Great.” I flagged down a server and asked for a lava cake, one of my favorite things to eat. “So, do you eat anything sweet other than your smoothies?”

“Oh, I eat plenty of sweet stuff,” he offered up in a low, sexy voice.

“Not in the past four months,” I countered.

He glared at me and I stared back. Seconds later we were both laughing so hard tears streamed down our faces.