Authors: Tracy Deebs
“Never more.” It was true—for this one moment, I felt great. My body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do and I could almost feel the wave beneath me.
“Here it comes!” yelled Scooter.
I watched as the guys took off, one after another, but still I waited. It didn’t feel right yet, didn’t feel—
Yes! There it was! I pushed up and it was magic—one of those rides where everything just comes together like it was meant to be. I found the sweet spot right off, and I swear it was like I was flying. And when I managed to pop a monster aerial, I really was flying for a few, perfect seconds. The guys roared in approval as I rode the wave all the way in—long after they had dropped out.
I reached shore before them, but I was alone less than a minute before Mark grabbed me in a gigantic bear hug and swung me around. “That was fantastic! You got crazy huge air.”
“What can I say?” I laughed. “Some people got it—”
“And some people don’t,” said a voice behind me.
I froze at the interruption, every hair on my body standing straight up in red alert.
“Yo, man, how’s it going?” Mark set me back on my feet and extended a friendly hand over my shoulder.
“It’s going. Obviously not as well as it is for her, but it’s going.”
“No doubt. My girl’s got mad skills.”
“That she does.”
I still hadn’t turned around, and Mark was looking at me strangely, so I faked an interest in a make-believe ding on my surfboard.
“Hey, Tempe, I want you to meet this guy. He’s been surfing with us the last couple of days and his skills are as crazy as yours.”
His friend laughed, a low, warm chuckle that had my blood running hot and a bowling ball weighing down my stomach. My joy at being in the water drained away as quickly as it had come and suddenly, I wanted to be anyplace but where I was.
But since the ground opening and swallowing me whole wasn’t really a viable option, I braced myself and slowly turned to face the newcomer—already convinced of what I would see.
Sure enough, standing next to Mark with a grin as wide as the Pacific was a tall, bronzed, well-muscled guy with dark hair and wild, wicked eyes. The same guy who’d been haunting my dreams—and my nightmares—for the last four days.
“Tempest, this is Kona. Kona, my girl, Tempest.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Kona said, tongue totally in cheek. “Mark has told me a lot about you.”
He reached for my hand and as our fingers touched, I felt a jolt deep inside myself—as if the two halves of my world had just violently, irrevocably collided.
I wanted to snatch my hand back.
Wanted to go on holding his hand forever.
Wanted … so much that I wasn’t sure where to start or how to ask for what it was that I needed.
“Yeah. It’s good to meet you too.”
His thumb rubbed across the back of my hand, causing shivers to run up and down my spine like little windswept feathers. I braced for the pain I always felt when someone touched me these days, but there was none. Only a pleasure so intense that I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“So, are you ready to go again?” Mark asked, his eyes darting between us like we were players at a tennis match. I could see them darkening with suspicion, and I pulled at my hand, trying to get Kona to let it go before Mark turned all macho he-man on me.
Kona’s fingers slowly released mine, but not without a final squeeze that had my breath catching in my throat.
How can this be happening?
I wondered crazily. More importantly,
why
was it happening? And why now, when I already had more than enough changes to focus on?
“Are you?” Kona’s voice was a little raspier than it had been, his eyes just a little darker—as if the contact between us had affected him as well.
“Am I what?”
“Are you ready?”
The words hung in the air between us—trapped—and it was like he could see inside of me. Like he knew so much more than I did about … everything.
“Ummm—” Did I mention that I’m not the most articulate person at the best of times, and under pressure, my words dry up as completely as the desert during a sandstorm?
“Of course she’s ready.” Mark wrapped an arm around my shoulder, bringing me against his body, and for one irrational second I felt like a bone being pulled in different directions by two slavering, growling dogs. Except both of these guys still had smiles on their faces. “Right, Tempest?”
“Yeah, of course.” I gave him the answer he wanted, but it was just another discernible lie. I wasn’t ready to go into the ocean again, not with Kona watching every move I made. But Mark couldn’t see inside my head and as he pulled me toward the water, pain ricocheted down my arms.
Again, I wondered at the differing sensations. Pain from Mark, the guy I was pretty sure I loved and who I felt secure around. Pleasure from Kona, the guy I didn’t know how to respond to and who I certainly didn’t trust.
Mark propelled me down the beach until the surf danced around my ankles and licked at me like a hundred tongues of fire. Something was coming, it seemed to tell me as it burned where it normally soothed. Something big, and I couldn’t hide from it anymore.
As if I had ever been able to.
We started paddling out, and within seconds Mark was ahead of me, his whipcord-lean body stretched out over his board like an offering to the surf gods. Normally I would be right there with him, pushing into the water—desperate for the next big wave—but instead I hung back, hesitant to push off with Kona so close.
I expected Kona to take off with Mark, but he stayed beside me, content to move with the ebb and flow of the waves instead of cutting his own way through them.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, when I was sure Mark was out of earshot.
“What do you mean?” He paddled closer until his board was nearly touching mine. It was a deliberate attempt at crowding and one I would normally have called anyone on, but today—with him—I let it go. I had more important things to worry about.
“Come on. You didn’t just show up at this beach accidentally. You came for a reason.”
“And what reason would that be, sweet Tempest?” He lifted one eyebrow in a way I found ridiculously hot.
“That’s what I’m asking you!”
“That doesn’t seem right.” An unexpected swell came up, had both of us clutching our boards to keep from grubbing. “If you’re going to assign dark intentions to me, I think you should be brave enough to admit to them.”
“Can’t you just once answer a question without dodging around it eighteen different ways?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“See what I mean?” I glanced away from him, watched as the wave began to set up. Panic, cold and clammy, raced down my spine as images of tumbling beneath the water bombarded me from all sides. “You never just tell the truth.”
He studied me and for once there was no humor in his expression. “That’s an interesting complaint coming from you, Tempest. Besides, the truth is a nebulous thing. If you get too much too quickly, it feels like the top of your head is blowing off.”
“It feels like that already.” I braced myself, prepared to push up.
“It’s only going to get worse.” He flexed his biceps and I realized that his tattoos looked like they were glowing, just as they had the first time I met him. There was something strange about them, that was for sure …
The observation had my stomach cramping up. “What does that mean?”
“What do you want it to mean?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?
“Talking in circles.”
His smile was wicked hot when he answered, his eyes pure silver, sexy and bottomless. “You want direct?” At my nod, he continued. “You’d better pay attention or it’ll be my turn to fish you out from the deep.”
“What—”
But he was already up, and I scrambled to follow suit before I got rolled. As the wave crested, I managed to stay on my board—barely—but it wasn’t my most successful ride, by any means. I was too busy watching Kona ride the wave like he was born to do it.
Who is he?
I wondered for at least the millionth time.
Friend or foe?
Mermaid or human … or something else entirely?
And perhaps most importantly,
what did he want from me?
When I got back to shore, Mark was waiting—and so was Kona. “What was that?” Mark teased as he pulled me close. Too close. I forced myself not to struggle away from him.
“That was me doing my best impression of a Barney.”
“Or your worst,” Kona added. “Depending on how you look at it.”
I ignored Kona, kept my gaze firmly on Mark. “I’m having trouble finding my sea legs these days.”
“It’s all good.” Mark nodded toward the ocean. “You ready to go again?”
“I think I’ll sit this one out.” I settled onto the sand, my board next to me. “But you go ahead—I love to watch you surf.”
“I’ll wait with—”
“Go! I’m just going to hang for a few minutes and I’ll do the next one with you.”
“Come on, dude!” Bach’s voice drifted back to us from where he stood in the shallows. “It’s setting up.”
I shoved Mark toward the water. “Seriously, go!” I waved at Kona. “And take him with you.”
“I’ll be right back.” Mark dropped a quick kiss on my lips that felt more like a brand than a sign of affection, then hurtled down the beach toward the water, Kona hot on his heels.
It was a joy to watch them move in tandem—light and dark, security and danger. Familiar and … I didn’t know how to end the thought as something about Kona felt even more comfortable than Mark, so I just let it go.
Right before they hit the water, Kona stopped. He said something to Mark I couldn’t hear, then settled on the sand at the water’s edge. Why wasn’t he going? Why had he chosen to hang out on shore when he could be surfing?
Then he turned to me, pinned me with a look that had my heart beating way too fast. It was a look that said everything and nothing—a look that was irresistible because of the dichotomy.
Before I could figure out why I was doing it—or talk myself out of it—I stood and headed toward him. It would be nice to get my toes wet as I waited for Mark, I rationalized. That didn’t mean I had to talk to Kona at all. I could just—
He met me halfway and though he didn’t touch me, I swear I felt the slow skim of his fingers up my arm, over my shoulder, down my back. It was like I was connected to him, and not just physically. A part of me felt comfortable with him, like I could lower my guard and let him see inside me in a way I never could allow Mark.
I trembled even as I started to sweat in the cool morning air.
We settled on the sand without saying a word. Kona sat too close to me and I let him—truthfully, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop him. We weren’t actually touching, but every breath he took brought his shoulder within a hair’s breadth of mine and I could feel the heat radiating from him like a sun. Within a couple of minutes I was toasty warm, the cold gone like it had never been.
“How are you doing, Tempest?” His words were quiet, his voice low and sensual and anything but casual. I had to work to keep my tongue in my mouth and my hands on my board even as I realized he was looking for much more than a superficial answer.
I refused to give it to him. Instead, I stiffened my weak spine and made like his voice—and the rest of him—had no effect on me. “I’m fine. Why?” I wouldn’t turn toward him.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you look like you could catch bullets with your teeth?”
“I always look like this.”
“Poor Mark.”
I did look at Kona then, pinning him with the glare I usually reserved for idiotic freshman boys who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. It had made more than a few cower in fear through the years.
Kona merely laughed. Hard.
It sounded like the ocean, like popcorn popping. Like happiness itself. I ground my teeth together so tightly that I swear I felt one of my right molars crack.
Why am I getting so upset?
I wondered as I sprang to my feet and marched the last few yards to the water. It would have been a good exit if I hadn’t tripped in the sand like a total frube.
He caught me before I could go down, and we stood there a long time, looking out to sea while the water—ice cold and soothing—tickled our toes. Finally, when I couldn’t stand the tension for one second longer, I glanced at Kona, then froze at the picture he made. He looked different with the water touching him—less human, more magical.
Like he could take on an army and win.
The thought made my palms sweat, so I took a few more steps into the ocean, my muscles clenching so tightly that I worried briefly that I was going to cramp up.
Is he really glowing?
I shot another look at him from beneath my lashes. No, of course not—it was just the sun shining off all that silky, raven black hair.