Page 137 of Defenders of Jawhara

He put on a smile. “We still on for Saturday and getting you up on a board?”

“Sure. The office closes at noon.”

Trent raised his eyebrows. “They make you work the weekend?”

“They normally meet with their lawyers and the really rich donors Saturday afternoons, so I spend the morning getting things set up—making coffee and smiling. Everyone seems to talk quietly when I’m nearby, and I always feel like they can’t wait for me to leave. No one’s around now—they’re off on one of their missions—but I still have to be in the office.”

Leaning against the doorjamb, Trent smiled. “Hey, sounds like maybe they’re trying to hide things. Ever think they could be up to something? Money laundering? Drug running? Terrorist activities?”

She laughed. “Very funny. Yeah, Guardians of the Earth is a front for a group trying to take over the world. They’re good people.”

Trent straightened. She sounded defensive—meaning, he was going to have to work hard to get her over to his side. He was also going to have to be careful. She could blow everything for him. “First surfing lesson Saturday at one. You do know how to swim, right? I mean, not with cows?”

Chloe smiled. “Hey, you have to go out into deep water sometime! I’ll be ready.”

Trent nodded. But he wasn’t sure she was ever going to be ready for the kind of lessons he was going to give her.

5

Trent couldn’t have been more wrong about Chloe.

He figured that out on Saturday when he met up with her at the cove. Sure, he expected her to have on a swimsuit—something sensible and one piece, or something to match that baggy T-shirt and jeans. Instead, her bikini was one of the skimpier ones he’d seen, and he’d seen a lot.

Chloe’s body looked like it had been made for the suit. Small triangles of fabric covered her breasts, making his mouth water. The bottoms covered the necessities and left her hips just about bare. She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail. It swished as she walked toward him, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the sway of her hips. She was wearing a green cover-up, but instead of hiding her body, it only seemed to highlight her assets.

He was instantly hard, his palms itching to put his hands on her. She leaned on his Jeep’s door and grinned. “You ready?”

Boy was he. He forced a smile and cleared his dry throat. “Where did a girl from Wyoming find a suit like that?”

Chloe glanced down at herself. “Do you like it? I wasn’t sure if it was okay or not. I bought a copy of the swimsuit edition of that sports magazine and went shopping. It was kind of expensive, but the girl at the store said I had the perfect body for it.”

“I’ll say.” Her cheeks pinked. “Climb in.”

She glanced behind her. “Aren’t we surfing here?”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Dude—I said meet at the cove, not surf it to start. You really want to begin with rocks at your back and gnarly waves? Thought you might like to try stylin’ at the Shores to start with. It’s way more friendly for new surfers.”

“Oh…maybe you’re right.” She got in. Her cover-up fluttered in the sea breeze, and Trent had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road and off her legs.

“We should have calm to light winds offering up glassy, clean conditions with surf around knee high for most spots and a few rideable corners early on. Tide is pushing in at around four feet.”

She grinned. “You sound like a weather reporter.”

“Surf report. Check it every day.” He found a spot near the beaches of La Jolla Shores and parked. Climbing out, he grabbed his wetsuit and one for Chloe. “Sorry to have to cover up that great suit, but you’ll be thanking me. The Pacific ain’t all that warm.” He showed her how to pull on the wetsuit. He always kept a spare, because, yeah, surfing lessons were a great way to catch a date. The suit was long on her, but sleeveless, and hugged her like a second skin. It gave him the chance to lean close, catch a whiff of her scent, and put his hands on her. It was hard not to do more. She was so dang cute.

She had her tongue tucked into the corner of her mouth and a small frown tugging her eyebrows together. Trent wanted to kiss that small line. Instead, he touched a finger to her nose. “You got sunscreen on? Water fries you like tempura if you don’t watch it.”

She nodded and put her hands on her hips. “I’m good.”

He pulled a board from the back of his Jeep and pushed it at her. He grabbed the other one. “First lesson—how to carry your board and not drop it.”

He’d brought body boards along, too, but he left them in the Jeep. He showed her how to carry her board—tucked under her arm, the front dipping a little, but not so low that it dragged. “We’re using short boards today—not the big old heavy ones. You can keep an eye on the front, but not the back; and watch how you turn, or you’re going to smack someone. Now let’s get to the beach and start with the basics.”

* * *

“When do we get in the water?” Chloe put a hand over her eyes to shade them. The day was perfect. A blue sky, seagulls wheeling overhead and calling out, low waves, and blue ocean. She’d walked down to the shoreline with her heart thudding, but Trent had her put her board on the sand and then spent way too long talking about balance and how and where to stand and how to use her hips and arms. He made her walk up and down the board—but all on sand. She wanted to get wet.

The beach was crowded with those who came here for the sun. Colorful towels and umbrellas dotted the white sand. Kids were laughing, playing in the sand and surf. Music drifted to her from various portable speakers, and the wind brushed her ears. A few surfers waded out past the low swell of waves, looking for the big one they’d ride into shore.

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