Page 18 of Between the Lines

Moretti shrugged, stepped into his own wetsuit and tugged it up his tanned legs, over his fine backside. Theo tried the same thing, sliding one foot and then the other through the thick, tacky fabric and starting to pull. Ugh. It was uncomfortable, and difficult to get a firm grip. Anxiety knotted in his stomach. It shouldn’t be this hard, but of course itwasthis bloody hard. For him, it was.

“C’mere,” Moretti said. “I’ll help.”

Don’t!The instinctive retort bunched up behind Theo’s teeth, but when he turned around to spit it out Moretti was right there, and he wasn’t smiling or looking impatient. Theo found himself staring, transfixed. Distracted, he was unable to protest when Moretti reached forward, grabbed the wetsuit and yanked it up to Theo’s hips so hard he was dragged up onto his tiptoes and might have lost his balance completely had Moretti not braced a startlingly warm hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Luca said with a grin. “They’re kinda like condoms—there’s a knack to putting them on.”

Too nonplussed to be offended at being manhandled, Theo just stared.

Moretti’s cheeks pinked. “Um, anyway, turn around. I’ll get the zipper.”

After some more wrangling, Theo found himself zipped into the thing, which was tight and uncomfortable around his throat. Frankly, he felt ridiculous. Moretti, on the other hand, looked spectacular. Broad chest, powerful thighs, square shoulders: his athletic body was only enhanced by the sleek lines of his wetsuit. And Theo wanted him, that was the embarrassing truth. Theo wanted him and it was bloody unfair that Moretti would never look twice at him even if he was gay, which he probably wasn’t. Not that Theo would be able to tell unless Moretti showed up wearing a rainbow flag and riding a unicorn—and possibly not even then.

Moretti clapped him on the shoulder to get his attention—he’d been drifting in his thoughts—and the heat penetrated right through the neoprene to his skin. “C’mon, Wishart, surf’s up.”

* * *

A handful of people lingered on the beach, the families long gone home for dinner and only a few stragglers remaining. The surf wasn’t great, but it would be high enough for a beginner to practice bodyboarding. A couple of surfers were making the best of it at the north end of the bay, so Luca steered Wishart in the other direction.

The wetsuit did wonders for the guy’s slender body, revealing his cute ass in all its pert glory and slim hips that made Luca’s hands twitch. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d had a long look at Wishart’s bare back while he was changing, lithe and smooth, and—

And he needed to get a grip on his shameless thoughts.

“Here will do,” he decided, squinting along the flat expanse of wet sand. Sunlight streamed out from behind the cliffs, dazzling against the water. “Okay, Wishart, drop your board down.”

Wishart looked at him, one hand lifted to shade his eyes. “Can’t you call me Theo? Wishart makes me feel like I’m back at school.”

Luca wasn’t sure why he hadn’t before, except that Theodore Wishart was the enemy and Theo... Well, he sounded like someone else. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure—Theo. So you need to practice your positioning...”

Wishart—Theo—nodded, looking very serious. “Okay, but you’ll have to show me the correct position.”

Was that...? Luca glanced at him. Was he flirting? If he was, the guy had one hell of a poker face. Unsure whether to be amused, or to say something about showing Theo his favorite position, Luca decided to play it safe and lay down on the board to demonstrate. “Hips here, hands on the nose bulbs. And then you paddle with your hands, like this, kick your feet under the water, and we’ll power out past the breakers.” He jumped up. “Okay, have a go.”

When Theo lay down and flailed about, Luca wondered if he’d even been watching. “No, no, no. Stop. You need to be much further up the board. Get your hips on it.”

“They are on it.”

They weren’t and, frankly, Luca had seen cats take instruction better. Not that Theo wasn’t trying, but some essential link appeared to be missing between what his ears heard and how his body behaved. After several attempts at explaining, Luca gave up and grabbed the guy under his arms, hauling him forward. “There. Like that. Right on the board.”

Theo glared at him, lips pursed. For a moment, he looked more like the man Luca had first met, but he nodded and obediently thrashed his arms and legs about like a wind-up bath toy. Luca was doubtful he’d be able to replicate any of this in the water and puffed out a breath, stumped.

“See?” Theo sat up, sand clinging to his knees. “I’m crap at this.”

“It’ll be easier in the water.”

“Will it?” Theo looked doubtful, and with good reason; it would be much harder in the water.

“Let’s try.” Luca held out his hand to help Theo up. After a hesitation, Theo took it—slender, strong-fingered—and Luca tugged. Theo came to his feet so fast he lost his balance and stumbled into Luca, knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Shit,” Theo said, a hand on Luca’s chest. “Sorry.”

Luca didn’t reply. He couldn’t because the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end, his gaze snagged on Theo’s lips—rather a lush crushed-raspberry pink—and his whole body was aware of him in a way the other guy didn’t appear to notice. Theo just looked mortified. Hell, maybe Luca had misread him and he wasn’t gay after all.

Clearing his throat, Luca took a careful step back, trying to shake off the goose bumps. He wouldnotget the hots for a straight guy, especially not a straight guy bent on tearing down the Majestic. “No problem,” he said, and picked up his bodyboard to attach the wrist strap. After a moment, Theo did the same, and Luca watched him fiddle about with it until he got the Velcro strap fastened. “Okay,” he said, when Theo was ready. “Follow me.”

Things did not improve in the water. In fact,disastermight not be too strong a word. Theo could hardly stay on his damned feet, let alone get on the board. He kept just...sliding off. Sideways, off the back, sideways again. It was hopeless. His balance was crap, every wave sent him staggering, and he couldn’t even jump onto a wave like the kids did, clutching the board like a giant float.

All that stopped Luca from giving up was the expression of resigned defeat on Theo’s face, as if failure had been inevitable from the start. Wasalwaysinevitable. It provoked Luca: he’d get Theo on the damn board, and on at least one wave, if he had to stay there all night to do it. His professional reputation was at stake.

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