Waves of Love (Surf’s Up Book 1) (7 page)

              He quickly drifted to sleep, his breath heavy, soft and warm on the back of her neck as she fought the urge to join him. Her living room had never looked so romantic and blissful, filled with flickering candlelight, the curtains fluttering with the ocean breeze, the sound of the ocean so familiar to her, yet suddenly… so new.

              Derek, it seems, had changed the way she saw everything. Not just herself, her age and her looks, but her very world itself: her store, her town, her beach, her ocean, even her living room.

For so long, it seemed, Sage had just been existing. And now, Derek behind her, his sticky belly gently breathing against her sweaty back, their limbs entwined, his breath warm and hot on her neck, she felt more alive than she ever had.

              As Sage at last allowed herself to drift off to sleep, fighting it every inch of the way, her heavy eyes took one last look – then another – at her living room; at her life. She knew that whatever happened next, she and Derek would always have this night.

              Together…

              “You’re… what?” asked Sage, hardly believing her ears.

              Derek shrugged, nibbling on a surfer’s scone and sipping coffee as he lingered, as usual, across from her at the pastry counter. It was well after closing time now, the store lights dim to avoid potential customers knocking on the door and thinking they were still open.

They were still wired from Derek’s last seminar, the biggest success so far, over 50 people in attendance, a packed house - most of them buying one or more copies of his latest book.

              Long after the customers had left and Sage had closed the store, sending Fiona home from her part-time duties, she and Derek had lingered over the pastry counter. Sage, behind it, dishing up as many treats as he could eat and nibbling every corner or crumb he left behind.

              They had already poured through one pot of coffee – the real stuff, not decaf. She knew she wouldn’t sleep but, Sage realized, with what he’d just said, she no longer wanted to.

              “I’m staying,” he repeated, slower this time, meeting her eyes with a bashful grin. “Here, in Seaside.”

              “But why?” she sputtered, wiping the counter absently though it was, as usual, spotless. “What about your travels? Your publisher? Your adventures, everything you talked to that crowd about tonight?”

              He shrugged. “I just pitched my editor a new book,” he said, surprising her. “It’s about staying put, about surfing in a small town. About small town surfers and daily routines and showering at the same beach access every morning. I’m calling it ‘Locals Only’ and, the only way to write it, Sage, is to live it. So, it looks like you’re stuck with me…”

              “I... I don’t know what to say,” she gasped, reaching for her coffee mug, if only not to look so flustered and aimless. “It’s… I never expected this.”

              Derek cocked his head and smiled at her just as crookedly. “Don’t tell me you’re disappointed.”

              “God no!” she blurted, and she wasn’t. “Just… surprised. I don’t… I feel like you’re doing this for me, and I don’t want… I don’t want you to stay here just because you feel sorry for me.”

              His eyes grew wide as he slid from his stool, pacing off his pastry and caffeine behind the barstools. “Oh. My. God,” he chuckled, though it was a humorless, joyless sound. “When are you going to stop hating yourself and believe that someone could actually, you know, love you?”

              She took a breath, watching him pace like a stalking lion on the other side of the counter. “You’re right,” she murmured.

              He paused, chuckling dryly again. “And stop telling me ‘I’m right’ all the time, too,” he cautioned. “Grow a pair and start living your life without asking for permission all the time.”

              Sage chuckled, outright. He looked so earnest, doing everything but wagging a parental finger in her face. “So… is your next book going to be self-help, or what?”
              “Maybe,” he chuckled, hands on his hips. “I might call it, ‘When Smart Girls Act Dumb Because They’ve Been Hiding Out in a Bookstore All Their Lives!’”

              She shook her head. “Kind of a mouthful, but… I’d buy it.”

              “I’m serious, Sage. I love what we have here, together, and I want more of it. I’m not asking to move in with you. In fact, I’ve renewed my lease on the cottage for another year, so… if you get sick of my ass, you and I can just… surf at different beach accesses, that’s all.”

              She put down her rag and joined him on the other side of the counter. The smooth jazz she played all day on the overhead speakers grooved softly above them, the lights dim, his youthful face cast in elegant shadows.

“One thing I can promise I’ll never get tired of is your ass,” she said, squeezing it as they began a long, slow dance around the “New Releases” table.

              “The feeling’s mutual,” he said, squeezing right back.

              Sage sighed, feeling Derek’s heat and hardness as they gently swayed to the slow, saxophone groove. She wanted him, as always, but tonight they could take their time. Dance, and talk, and laugh and love, all night if they felt like it.

              Tomorrow was another day, and Sage no longer feared being alone. There were people to open the store if she slept in, and to close it if she
stayed
in. But she had the feeling, Derek’s lips nibbling at her ear, she wouldn’t want to waste a single moment of the next year.

              Starting with tonight…