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The Perfect Indulgence
Isabel Sharpe


The perfect pick-me-up!After swapping lives–and coffee shops–with her twin sister, Chris Meyer is certain her New Yorker uptightness has melted in the hot California sunshine. But finding inner peace is tough with four guys vying for her attention. Including the one who turns her mellow zen into a way-too-sexy zing…Zac Arnette doesn't mind a little competition, because he knows the attraction he and Chris share is smoking hot! They agree to a friends-with-benefits fling–which fits in with Chris's new laid-back style. But she might not want to give up her favorite new indulgence when it's time to return to NYC…







The perfect pick-me-up!

After swapping lives—and coffee shops—with her twin sister, Chris Meyer is certain her New Yorker uptightness has melted in the hot California sunshine. But finding inner peace is tough with four guys vying for her attention. Including the one who turns her mellow zen into a way-too-sexy zing...

Zac Arnette doesn’t mind a little competition, because he knows the attraction he and Chris share is smoking hot! They agree to a friends-with-benefits fling—which fits in with Chris’s new laid-back style. But she might not want to give up her favorite new indulgence when it’s time to return to NYC...


“We should be friends...with benefits.”

Zac nuzzled her ear. “What do you think?”

Chris sat there stupidly for two seconds. This was exactly what she wanted. She was ridiculously hot for him and wanted his body immediately.

“Sweetheart.” He leaned in a couple of inches closer.

“Mmm?”

“It’s up to you to move away if you want. Because I’m going to kiss you.”

“Oh my.” Chris stared at his spectacular mouth. She could practically taste it again. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“It gets worse.” He leaned toward her until his amazing lips were brushing her skin, slowly turning her molten. “Because if I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop there.”

“Oh! That is worse. Much worse.” She was imagining his hands on her naked body, his warm torso lowering over hers. Or under hers. Or behind hers. Or—

His mouth tasted just as wonderful as it had the other night, and the pressure of his lips ignited a fierce and primal response in her. Chris wanted this. She’d invited this. And the passion that came to life between them, her legs locking around his, their hips straining toward each other?

Oh yes, they could be friends...but bring on those benefits.


Dear Reader (#ulink_e9067765-8d29-5309-b408-0a873ff7c3fa),

I had such a great time writing my recent Blaze story Some Like It Hotter, the story of the free-spirited and quirky Eva Meyer, and her determined pursuit of Ames Cooke that upends his world. But when I came to write The Perfect Indulgence about Eva’s twin sister, Chris, I wasn’t quite sure what kind of man to pair her with.

Then I stumbled over Zac Arnette. He and Chris are alike in many ways. Being an engineer, Zac is precise, methodical and controlled. But I gave him all this simmering sexual energy under the surface and an amazingly intuitive side. All I had to do then was introduce him to Chris and watch him fall madly in love, not with the woman Chris thinks she has to be, but with the woman she really is.

Who doesn’t want that? If I wasn’t happily married, I’d want to give Zac a call myself.

Happy reading!

Isabel Sharpe

IsabelSharpe.com (http://www.IsabelSharpe.com)


The Perfect Indulgence

Isabel Sharpe






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISABEL SHARPE was not born with pen in hand like so many of her fellow writers. After she quit work to stay home with her firstborn son and nearly went out of her mind, she started writing. After more than thirty novels for Mills & Boon, a second son and eventually a new, improved husband, Isabel is more than happy with her choices these days. She loves hearing from readers. Write to her at isabelsharpe.com (http://www.isabelsharpe.com).


Contents

Cover (#u609c4286-4fb1-5805-8ba5-cab15a53682f)

Back Cover Text (#u40bb9016-326f-5347-8f06-b878c1649be1)

Introduction (#ufef7152e-4448-5b92-96c2-44625dc40f7c)

Dear Reader (#ulink_a9aa599c-a80e-5d31-94f1-d0ae8aa66dde)

Title Page (#u4dca0b7e-aeab-5d33-8a0b-a46e0dfaf1f7)

About the Author (#u2cdad992-cae1-5a53-a419-093f0f60eb2c)

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Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


1 (#ulink_d98f22c4-1f07-5bbc-834c-c55272e958e4)

BREATHE IN...BREATHE OUT...breathe in...breathe out.

Chris Meyer sat on a cliff near Aura Beach in her adopted town of Carmia on the Central California coast. She was meditating, in a deep trance, aware only of the breeze on her face, the sounds of the ocean waves rolling in and the slow pattern of her breathing.

If anyone had told her a little over five months ago when she and Eva, her sister and fellow coffee-shop owner, had first cooked up the idea of temporarily switching lives, that she would someday practice meditation, she would have laughed and assumed the person had confused her, a typical type A New Yorker, with her laid-back California-girl twin.

However, in the past five months Chris had undergone a total personality transformation, thanks to her daily meditation and yoga classes at the Peace, Love and Joy Center on the outskirts of town. Gone were her uptight, neurotic and anal-retentive tendencies; she was now relaxed, carefree and brimming with California sunshine and roses.

Most of the time.

Back in October, if someone had suggested she sit on a cliff for half an hour doing absolutely nothing, she would have scoffed. What could possibly be considered productive about that?

She’d learned so much living here. And with Eva’s serious boyfriend, Ames Cooke, so far unsuccessful at finding the perfect sales-manager job with a vineyard or distributor here in Central California, Chris wouldn’t be switching back to the hectic pace of New York anytime soon.

That was good. She wanted to stay here until this change went much deeper than her surroundings. Much deeper than her new casual wardrobe, her new crazy hairstyles— Well...actually, they were wigs and temporary hair dyes she’d been experimenting with, but that counted as change, right? Deeper than her new phoenix tattoo, which, admittedly, was tiny and hidden on her rib cage under her arm. And deeper than the row of earrings she’d taken to wearing down the shell of her ear. Although, truth be told, they were cuffs. She didn’t want any more holes in her ears. But this was a true transformation. Really. She was going for total calm, ready to say goodbye to the high-strung, anxious, quick-to-judge side of her personality. She was also working on freeing her spontaneous, live-in-the-moment self from a lifetime spent planning, organizing and following routines, which she’d learned from her parents. When she and Eva had been infants, their parents had put them on strict feeding schedules. As girls, they’d been taught the importance of doing their chores and getting a full eight hours of sleep. For whatever reason their parents’ devotion to work before play had not remotely rubbed off on her free-spirited twin, but Chris had bought into it 100 percent.

The ringing of her cell phone wrenched her from her trance. She’d forgotten to put the pesky device on mute. If she could, she’d leave the phone at home when she meditated, but she was responsible for anything that happened at Slow Pour, her sister’s coffee shop, which Chris had been managing over the fall and now into winter.

Winter...ha! Californians shouldn’t be allowed to use the term.

The call was from Eva. Chris answered eagerly, not having spoken to her sister in a while, unusual for them. “Hey, twin, what’s going on? How are you liking February?”

Eva groaned. “Given that it’s the first of the month, about as much as I loved January.”

“Yeah, it’s bitter here, too. Brr. I think it might have dipped below sixty.”

“Do not even tell me.”

“You’re a traitor to your Wisconsin roots.” Chris smiled, knowing better than to push further, since she’d been on the receiving end of this same teasing from Eva for years. “How’s my baby doing?”

“Good! You might not know it, but NYEspresso is hosting a fabulous Valentine’s event in two weeks. You’re having a pastry chef in for the day to give lessons on making heart-shaped meringues and those hot chocolate cakes with the gooey centers.”

“Ooh, yum. I am truly brilliant.”

“What am I doing at Slow Pour to celebrate the beautiful day of lovers?”

“Oh, I ordered some heart-shaped vegan whole-grain cookies.”

“And...?”

“That’s it right now.” She felt vaguely guilty, since her sister loved the holiday that Chris found forced and silly. Her two previous serious boyfriends had felt the same way, so she’d gotten used to ignoring it. But maybe as part of her new persona, she should be more open to Valentine’s Day, even if it was a manufactured occasion designed to profit florists, jewelers, restaurants and chocolate makers. “I might offer a special flavored cocoa drink or something...”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound happy, Chris.”

“What?” Her sister’s comment surprised her, and then she realized Eva still couldn’t understand her recent vow to be single and work on her inner self for a change. “No, I’m happy. Deeply happy, as a matter of fact.”

Eva gasped. “Really? Does this have to do with the regulars you’ve met at the shop? Has Gus grown up and gotten smart enough to take you on a decent date instead of out to watch him surf? Has Bodie stopped admiring his hot self long enough to come in and say hello again? Have you started something with my best friend, Zac? Or is there someone new now?”

“No, nothing like that.” Chris cringed at the verbal onslaught. Her sister could use a few sessions at the Peace, Love and Joy Center. Chris’s four weeks there had changed her life. “Can’t I be happy without a man?”

“Of course you can! But who isn’t happier with one?”

Chris stretched her arm up toward the sun. Her sister was so blissfully in love with Ames that she couldn’t see past coupledom as the source of true contentment, while Chris had discovered that true contentment could only come from within. “I’m not focusing on that part of my life right now.”

“What? I thought you were going to have a wild fling while you’re in California.”

“I was. I still might. But I’m not going to force it. If it happens, it happens. Right now I’m working on just being.”

“Just being what?”

“Just being, Eva.”

“What the—” Her twin made a sound of exasperation. “Has someone been feeding you funny-tasting brownies?”

“No! I mean, if the perfect guy comes around and my inner voice tells me to go for it, I’ll go for it. But I’m not looking. I’m trying to live in the moment, to be at peace with myself.”

“Uh-huh. Hey, listen, can you put my sister on the phone, please? Chris Meyer? Type A, from New York?”

“Ha-ha. You’ve always let life take you where it wanted, Eva. And look how happy you are. Now I’m trying it.”

“But that’s who I am, Chris. And when it comes to men, hell, I’ve always gone after them with everything I have. Poor Ames didn’t stand a chance.”

“If I meet someone that wonderful, I might do that. Right now, though, sex is not on my mind. Besides, Gus and Bodie have been away forever at surfing events all over the country.”

“And Zac disappeared. I told you about that. His younger brother got into some trouble.”

“I’m not interested in Zac.”

“So you keep saying.”

Ordinarily Chris would have gone nuts over Eva’s stubborn insistence on believing what she wanted to be true, instead of what was. She would have argued and protested, trying in vain to use logic and common sense to counteract Eva’s crazy assumptions. But now... “Okay, whatever, Eva.”

“Listen, I wanted to tell you that it looks like a sales-manager job is opening up at Great Grapes Wine Distributors.”

A tiny shiver of dread mixed with Chris’s pleasure at hearing her sister’s news. If Ames got the job, she’d have to go back to New York before she was ready. She wasn’t quite sure what being ready entailed, but she knew if she had to leave soon, something would be left undone here. Going back now would prevent her from achieving the depth of meaning or happiness that she was meant to find or figure out in California.

“That would be perfect for Ames. It’s only a half hour from here.”

“I know!” Eva squealed. “Shh, don’t jinx it. But it would be awesome.”

“It would.” Chris took a deep breath. Her old self would have panicked immediately. Now she gently told herself that many things would have to happen before Ames and Eva actually moved back here and she had to return to New York. Thinking about it now—worrying and working herself up into an awful state of what-if—served no useful purpose.

But up here on the cliff, overlooking the ocean that stretched to eternity, she didn’t feel quite one with the universe anymore. Which was fine. She’d go back to Slow Pour a little early and give Summer, the shop’s other barista, a shortened shift. Summer worked hard; she deserved an extralong afternoon off, especially since Maureen, their usual weekend barista, had flown out of state to attend a family funeral.

Back at Slow Pour there was a decent crowd for early afternoon on a weekend. Chris would like to think the small changes she’d made to the shop—with Eva’s permission, of course—had helped business. She’d drastically reduced the number of non-food-related items for sale, retaining only those with local ties or that sported the shop’s logo. In addition, she’d toned down the decor, removing some of the more brightly colored art pieces and several photos of her and Eva as kids at coffee plantations they’d visited with their coffee-scientist father. The result was a classier feel with better feng shui and more room for tables, as well as improved curb appeal to lure in people who were just driving through town.

Of course, she’d left the surfboard menu hanging over the counter. Chris wasn’t going to mess with something so sacred.

“You’re here early.” Summer beamed at Chris, looking radiant as usual, her teeth stunningly white, skin flawless and golden-blond hair a wavy mane she wore pulled back into a ponytail—the quintessential California girl. She was also, as Chris had found out, extremely smart and totally reliable. Plus she pulled one hell of a shot of espresso.

“I know.” Chris went behind the counter and headed toward the back office. “I thought I’d give you a whole two hours of paid vacation this afternoon.”

“Wow, really?” Summer’s light brown eyes lit up. “That would be great.”

“Yeah?” Chris grabbed her blue-and-white Slow Pour apron from the row of hooks outside her office. “You have fun plans?”

“Oh, no, not really. It’s just nice to get extra time off.”

Chris nodded, wondering why such a pleasant and attractive woman seemed to have no social life—at least, none she ever spoke of. Chris should give her time off more often. It was such a small thing, and spreading happiness and good vibes was rewarding for all concerned. “You’re welcome. Enjoy the time.”

A few customers came in as Summer was leaving, which kept Chris busy for a while, after which she had time to stand back and soak in the atmosphere. Old Chris would have been studying sales reports, worrying about how to improve business, brainstorming new blends, drinks and special bakery items. Now she just wanted to reflect on what she and her sister had created here, and bask in how the café was bringing so much pleasure to its customers and to the community.

A familiar figure caught her eye, winding through the outside tables, heading for the shop’s front door.

Zac Arnette.

Chris’s heart sped up and her breath hitched. Immediately she relaxed her shoulders and closed her eyes as she took a long, healing breath. Zac had been away for a long time and now he was back. There was no reason for her to be anxious.

Zac was one of Eva’s best friends—in fact, they’d had a half-serious pact to get married if neither of them found anyone else by the time they turned thirty—but she personally found him overbearing and bossy and, at times, infuriatingly smug. He’d get an amused look on his face, as if he loved that she was struggling, loved that he’d gotten to her. It made her so—

Ahem.

Not to be blaming him for who he was, of course. She accepted that. She accepted her physical reaction to him, didn’t fight it, didn’t blame herself for it, even though she didn’t really understand why she reacted the way she did.

“Hello.” She smiled peacefully, aware of a few butterflies still trying to wreak havoc in her belly.

“Hello, Chris.” His blue eyes were warm and the butterflies started fluttering harder. Which was perfectly natural. Zac was a very handsome man. Too surfer blond for her taste—she liked dark East Coast guys with high energy and sharp edges—but...yes, very handsome. He looked a little like the guy who played Thor in the movies, but more real, less model perfect. Very, very handsome.

“You’ve been away awhile.” To her surprise, her tone was tinged with bitterness. Immediately she smiled more brilliantly to take away any impression that she cared that he’d disappeared for months without saying a word to her, although he’d filled Eva in extensively and often on the reason for and progress of his trip.

Which was fine. This wasn’t a competition. He had every right to do whatever he wanted. Chris accepted that.

“Family stuff.” He came right up to the counter. She’d forgotten how big he was. In her mind, Zac had shrunk to a size that wasn’t quite so intimidating. Her lungs were having a little trouble working again, and her heart refused to conform to the peaceful pace she strove to maintain.

Argh! Why did he have to—

No, wait, she accepted her own part in this.

“My younger brother, Luke, got into some trouble. I flew east to help him out and brought him back home with me for a while. Why, did you miss me?”

“Oh. No. I don’t—” She felt her face flaming. Her jaw clenched. She wanted to smack him. Three months of inner peace shot to hell in two minutes. Thanks, Zac.

No, no, no. She wouldn’t assign blame. Inner peace was her own responsibility. “I noticed you were gone. Does that count?”

“Sure.” He looked smug. Smug! She knew he would. And it made her want to smack him harder. “You changed your hair.”

“I did.” That morning she’d put on a short asymmetrical wig, which she particularly loved because it took her out of her comfort zone, made her look a bit wilder and more unpredictable and helped make her feel that way, too. But with Zac looking at her much too carefully, she only felt exposed as a fake.

So? She wasn’t one. Just a beginner at unearthing new feelings and new parts of herself. This was all part of her transformation, freeing herself to explore new potentials. She’d spent too long watching other people really live while she stood sensibly on the sidelines, held there by the weight of her parents’ values and expectations.

She refused to care whether Zac liked the new look or not. In fact, she’d let him think it was permanent.

“Nice,” spoken with no enthusiasm, still studying her. “Something else has changed about—”

“What can I get you?” She wanted to remind him that their relationship was customer and barista, and he had no place giving opinions on her appearance.

No, wait. He did. He had that right, and she accepted it.

Oh, man. She needed to get back to her cliff.

“How about a tall French roast and...” His blue gaze faltered, then focused on her with renewed intensity, unsettling her further. “And the chance to spend time catching up with you.”

Chris blinked. Blinked again. She should be taking cleansing and healing breaths right now.

She wasn’t breathing at all.

Was Zac asking her out? No, no, he couldn’t be. He hadn’t mentioned a place or event. He just wanted to find out what she’d been doing while he was gone. Probably just being polite.

“Well.” She turned away to pour his coffee, finding it much easier not to look at him. “It’s not busy here now. We can talk.”

He didn’t answer. Chris turned back, holding out his mug. His eyes pinned her. She felt as if she’d suddenly started moving in slow motion. “Actually, Chris, I meant I’d like to have dinner sometime.”

Dinner sometime?

“I...we...you...”

He chuckled—of course he did, her discomfort always amused him, the rat—and took the coffee out of her hands. “Think about it.”

Chris stepped back, inhaled long and slow through her nose, blew out the tension between her lips, and relaxed her tongue and her shoulders as she’d learned to do. She was free to accept or reject his offer. She had power in this situation. And if he’d get the hell away from her, she could take some time to examine her feelings before she answered, as she’d also learned to do. “Thank you. That’s a very nice invitation.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Something’s different about you. Besides the hair.”

“Yes.” She did not owe him an explanation.

“Okay, then.” He shot her a grin and started toward his usual table, leaving Chris hopelessly trying to get her Zen back.

The door banged open, making her jump and Zac turn. A young, slightly familiar-looking man walked in. Chris glanced at Zac and then back. Was this his younger brother? He was darker than Zac, one eyebrow pierced with a silver ring, slender where Zac was built, light and quick in contrast to Zac’s powerful, deliberate movements, but there was some resemblance.

“So this is Slow Pour.” The newcomer made the announcement as if he was narrating a movie starring himself. A few patrons paused in midconversation to see who had interrupted the café’s peaceful vibe.

Zac suddenly looked wary and tired. Chris felt a pang of sympathy for him. Whatever trouble this kid had gotten into, it had been hard on his older brother.

The kid who must be Luke ambled toward her, eyes alight with mischief and energy. “And you are therefore Chris.”

“That’s me.” She spoke quietly, not sure what Zac had told him, or what role she’d be assigned in the Luke Arnette show.

“Zac, man, you didn’t tell me she was totally gorgeous.”

Chris suppressed a groan. Luke might look like his brother, but so far he was behaving exactly the opposite. Point in Zac’s favor.

“Didn’t I?” Zac shrugged mildly. “Guess I forgot.”

“Can I get you some coffee? Tea? Suja Juice?” Chris stretched tall, centering herself, trying to radiate kindness and acceptance, and coming up with an attitude closer to dismay. Darn it. She’d thought she was more thoroughly grounded in her new self. Obviously she still had work to do. “Or would you like something else?”

“How about a date?”

Argh, she’d walked right into that one. “How about coffee?”

“You want to have coffee with me? That’d be okay.” He winked at her. Winked! “Though I was hoping for dinner sometime.”

Gee, where had she just heard that phrase?

“Luke, dude, back off.” Zac shook his head.

“What, am I poaching on your turf?”

Zac’s snorted. “Poaching on my turf? Who says things like that?”

Luke’s arrogance dropped as though it had been shattered with a hammer. “Gimme a break, man. This isn’t my world.”

“So? Just be your own effed-up and charming self.” Zac smacked Luke’s shoulder, grinning wryly. “You’ll get a lot further with the babes that way.”

Chris snorted. “Further with the babes? Who says things like that?”

Zac jerked his thumb. “He does.”

“Let me check this out with Chris.” Luke stepped forward, leaning against the counter, his blue eyes so like Zac’s that Chris had to force herself not to drop her gaze. “Would you like me better if I wasn’t trying so hard?”

“Yes. But only about a thousand percent.”

“Okay.” He opened those eyes puppy wide, his voice rising a few notches. “Will you go out with me? I’ll admit I have an arrest record. I beat someone up. He deserved it, though.”

“Why don’t you start by ordering something?”

“Sure.” He scanned the menu written on the surfboard hanging over her head. His lashes were long and dark, eyes shadowed. Some of his mania must be coming from fear and insecurity. She would cut him a break and be kind, though frankly, she wished both Arnette brothers would get out of her store. Life had been so peaceful without Zac around. Though she supposed it was good to realize how far she still had to go before she could confidently return to New York. Her transformation wasn’t worth much if she fell back into her old ways every time something stressful happened.

Luke ordered a mocha latte, which she made with whole milk, and she added a free oatmeal flaxseed raisin cookie to welcome him to Carmia, because he looked as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He and Zac took their coffees over to Zac’s regular table while Chris tried to get back to a state of calm, which proved futile because there was a constant buzz inside her, reminding her of Zac’s looming presence.

She wanted to ask him if he’d been accepted into any engineering doctoral programs yet, though Eva probably would have said something if he had. He’d taken a leave from his engineering job at a firm in San Luis Obispo to deal with Luke. Obviously the company he worked for valued him a lot if he was able to come and go like that. Apparently he’d worked at the same company through his master’s program at Cal Poly, as well. She was curious what his life had been like growing up in Connecticut, and whether Luke had always been a troublemaker and whether—

Stop. Chris yanked her mind back to the present where it belonged, pulled a couple of shots of espresso for a husband and wife biking through Carmia on their way down the coast, and packed up some whole-grain fruit bars for them to take with them.

Another few customers straggled in. She served them cinnamon-flavored organic brown-rice pudding and lattes made with almond milk, glad the place was busy so she could work on pretending Zac wasn’t there.

During the next quiet moment, she was about to head back to check on the bathrooms when the front door swished open again.

“I have arrived, victorious!”

Chris swung around, already smiling. Another familiar face had returned. With his tousled dark hair and blue eyes, Gus Banyon was the sexiest surfer dude of all time—except, perhaps, for his equally gorgeous friend Bodie, who had ten more years and twenty more pounds of solid man muscle on him. “Hey, Gus. Welcome back!”

“Whoa, you cut off all your hair. Why’d you do that?” Gus didn’t look any more pleased with her new do than Zac had been. And was even less polite about it.

“It was time for a change. So what did you win this time?” Gus had spent the past few months competing in surfing competitions across the country.

“Better than a win, I got a sponsor!” He raised his muscled arms. “I am the dude!”

“Gus, that is great.” Chris couldn’t say she understood his world, but she was a little smarter about it than when she’d arrived in October. Having a sponsor meant money, which meant bigger and more important competitions, and, most important, it meant someone truly believed in Gus’s talent. “Congratulations! What can I get you? On the house. Suja Juice?”

“Oh, wow, you’re stocking that now?”

“I am.” She laughed at his shocked expression. “Your favorite.”

“Could I have a Berryoxidant?”

“Coming right up.”

“All right!” He lifted his hand for a high five and pulled it back at her withering look. She might have settled into the California vibe, but she was still not going to do that.

From the small refrigerator behind the counter, she pulled out a Berryoxidant and handed over the attractive red bottle.

“Thank you, my dudess.” Gus lifted the bottle reverently. “Apple, orange, strawberry, banana, raspberry, sour cherry, chia seed, flaxseed, baobab and camu camu. Score!”

She watched him chug half of it, then, without having a clue what he was talking about, listened patiently—well, mostly patiently, she was only human—to his description of the individual waves and how he’d handled them. From time to time she was aware of Zac glancing over in her direction. It was hard to block movement in one’s peripheral vision, right?

“So anyway, I’m back in town for a couple of weeks, and I was wondering...” He dropped his eyes to the counter. “Do you want to have dinner sometime?”

His voice must have carried because Zac and Luke stopped their conversation and turned. The color rushed to Chris’s cheeks. Fabulous. Month after month blush-free and now three times in one afternoon? What was in the air today? And what was with the phrase dinner sometime?

“Oh, Gus. That would be...” She wasn’t sure what it would be. Honestly, she’d gotten so used to her peaceful, carefree life that she hadn’t adequately planned for what she’d do when Gus came back. They’d gone out on one not-so-great date before he left, though she’d agreed to give him another chance.

But the idea of sitting across from him, listening to wave stories all night...

The door opened. Praying for a barrage of customers so she could get out of answering until she was able to choose the best answer from deep in her always-wise subconscious, Chris glanced over.

Oh, my Lord. Her chance to retrieve any calm out of the afternoon was officially gone.

A serious hunk of man filled the doorway, his hazel eyes meeting hers with such blatant sexuality that she felt a thrill all the way down to her...inner calm. Speak of the handsome devil, it was Bodie Banks, Gus’s fellow surfer and mentor. She hadn’t seen him for several weeks. He tended to stop in for coffee, smolder for a while and leave. But oh, that smoldering. He was amazing. In a low-down, predatory kind of way, but amazing nonetheless.

“Bodie! My man!” Gus went over, and oh-so predictably there was the skin-on-skin smack of a freaking high five. She wondered if she could give Gus a palmectomy so he couldn’t participate in the ridiculous ritual anymore.

Wait. Shh. Those uncharitable thoughts belonged to the old Chris. No living creatures were hurt by high fives; there was nothing wrong with it. Acceptance. Love. Kindness. She was badly off track.

“Hey.” Bodie prowled toward the counter, biceps and deltoids popping out of his sleeveless T-shirt, which hung loosely over a pair of bright blue patterned board shorts. “How’s it going, Chris?”

Gus fell back a few steps, disciple making room for his master. Zac and Luke continued to watch the spectacle.

Well.

This wasn’t at all awkward.

“I’m fine, Bodie. Welcome back to Carmia. What can I get you?” She half expected him to order a cup of whole roasted coffee beans and a spoon. He was that primal.

“Double espresso.”

“Coming up.” Grateful for the reprieve, she moved back to the gleaming espresso machine, which worked so much more smoothly than hers back in New York. Eva had dubbed her finicky machine the Beast. “So how have you been?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Busy. Too busy. Nice to have a few weeks off now.”

“Yeah?” She packed the ground espresso into a solid puck and hooked the portafilter into the machine. “What are your plans?”

“Don’t have any. That’s the best way to live. Moment to moment. Know what I mean?”

Finally, someone who spoke her new language. She smiled over her shoulder while the machine buzzed. A few months ago, she would have been horrified, imagining that a lack of planning would automatically equal chaos. Now she embraced the concept wholly. Lately, she’d even been doing crazy-impulsive things, like taking walks when it was dinnertime. Just because she felt like it!

Yeah, okay, she was still a beginner when it came to the whole spontaneous thing.

“So, Chris...”

Something in Bodie’s tone made her body tense and her heart skip a beat. The espresso machine shut off abruptly, thrusting them into silence.

“Yes?” She picked up the cup and turned to find Zac, Luke and Gus still watching.

Argh!

“Since I’m back and free for a while...” He put both hands on the counter and leaned forward. His muscles bulged, his eyes held hers.

Chris swallowed. Holy—

“I’m thinkin’ you and me have something pretty powerful between us.”

The counter?

She couldn’t get the joke out. She was swimming in a sea of hormones and freaking out. In her hands, his espresso cup rattled against its saucer before she could make her hand relax.

“Huh.” That was the best she could do. This mental meltdown was not okay—this was no longer who she was, and this was not where or how she wanted to be.

“So I was wondering—” he reached over and touched her cheek, making her skin tingle and causing her to nearly drop the cup “—if you wanted to have dinner sometime.”


2 (#ulink_e30a7142-181b-589a-a40f-45cc86fdb740)

IF ONE MORE guy asked Chris out, Zac was going to get up from his table at Slow Pour and land an uppercut to his jaw. Then he was going to punch Gus and Bodie retroactively, because that was the kind of mood he was in.

What the hell? Before the holidays, he’d left for Connecticut, where he and Luke had grown up, because Luke was in trouble—again. Zac had wanted to try to set his little brother on a straighter path, but he’d also needed to get away from Chris, to get over himself and stop the stupid mooning.

Nice idea. Didn’t work. In Connecticut he’d discovered he could moon long-distance just as easily as he could in California, plus he was reminded of how much he didn’t like winter. He’d gone through that misery annually growing up, and he didn’t want to do it again.

So he’d come back. Luke needed a change of scenery, needed to get away from his substance-abusing East Coast friends to live a cleaner, better life under his brother’s watchful eye.

Luke had been a little surprise package who’d come into the world a week before Zac turned twelve. Three years later, when Luke was a toddler and Zac was in his first year of boarding school, their mother had succumbed to cancer. Their father had done his best to raise Luke on his own since then.

Losing their mother had sucked, to put it mildly. Zac had done most of his grieving on his own while he was away at school. Their already distant father hadn’t been in any shape to be a good parent, so Luke bore the worst of the tragedy. Zac had done what he could to help when he was home, but that wasn’t often. He had two regrets in life: one, that he hadn’t been there more for both Luke and his father, and two, that he hadn’t made a pass at Cynthia Baumgehen in college the night they were alone in his room.

Today, the minute he’d laid eyes on Chris, in spite of her weird haircut and new piercings, all the feelings he’d spent the past months trying to suppress had come roaring back. Standing there, overwhelmed, he’d remembered his regret over the missed opportunity with Cynthia and had experienced a big what-the-hell moment. So he’d asked Chris out to dinner, only to see her falter and hem and haw. And then he’d had to watch her get the same freaking offer from three other guys, including his own brother, for God’s sake. As if Zac was no different from a delinquent kid and brain-dead surfer meat.

Apparently he was smart not to have made a pass at Cynthia all those years ago. She probably would have turned pale and thrown up all over herself.

And while he was ranting, who or what had taken the spark out of Chris? She was like an overdecorated shell of her former self. Eva told him Chris had taken a month of classes at the Peace, Love and Joy Center. That was fine, and he had respect for the practices of yoga and meditation—many of the Eastern philosophies of life made good practical sense—but he didn’t understand why she had to look deflated and blank and suck air before answering a simple question. Chris Meyer was a high-energy, exciting woman. If she was trying to change that about herself, she would only succeed in driving herself crazy.

Well, fine, then, she’d go crazy. He’d stand by and watch. Not his problem.

“Uh, Zac?” Luke sat across the table, Zac’s laptop open in front of him. Supposedly he’d been looking for job opportunities in the area, but Zac was pretty sure his brother had also been taking in the three-ring circus unfolding in front of them nearly as intently as he had been.

“What?” He had no idea what his brother had been saying.

“I asked whether you thought Chris would give me a job at Slow—”

“No.” Zac closed his eyes, regrouping. Who was going crazy? “I mean, I think she has all the staff she needs.”

“Uh-huh.” Luke was looking at him suspiciously. For all the stupidity he’d demonstrated in his own short life, he was annoyingly perceptive about other people’s. “So do you think she’d go out with me if I—”

“No.”

Luke raised his pierced eyebrow. “You were in a great mood earlier. What the hell happened?”

“Sorry, man.” Zac rubbed his chin, glancing over at Chris, who was smiling up at Bodie as if he was her best friend. “I’m just...” Damn, that sweet, sunny smile pissed him off. If Chris was going to go for someone besides Zac, at least she could find a guy with a brain and respect for women. Bodie was so in love with himself he had no room for anyone else.

“Oh, I get it.” Luke had followed his gaze and was now smirking triumphantly. “All is clear to the amazing Luke.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Her.” He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder toward Chris. “You’re into her. And it’s driving you crazy that she might be into Mr. Canned Beef over there.”

“That’s not what is bothering me.”

“Yes it is. Don’t BS me.”

Zac took a deep breath. Early on in this intervention, he’d promised his brother total honesty as the only way they could trust each other. He hadn’t counted on the promise backfiring like this. “Okay, okay. Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m right.”

“You’re right, fine. Don’t push it.” He jabbed a finger at his brother. “And don’t ask her out again.”

“Message received.” Luke held up his hands in surrender. “Your turf, I get it. I’ll stay away. After all, blood is thicker than semen.”

“Oh, jeez.” Zac grimaced. “Do you have to say that stuff?”

In spite of his crappy mood, he was glad to see Luke laugh. The self-conscious tough-guy image got hard to take after a while. When Luke smiled he was Zac’s kid brother again.

“If it’s any consolation—” Luke motioned to Bodie contemptuously “—that guy’s got nothing on you.”

“Yeah, thanks.” The compliment pleased him, but he would’ve preferred to hear it from Chris.

“So? What are you going to do about it? What’s your plan?”

“My plan?” Zac let his hand drop to the table. “I’m going to go back to work, and help you find a job around here, and I’m going to keep you out of trouble.”

“Dude. I meant about her.”

“Nothing.” Zac stood and set his coffee cup on the tray for used dishes, only slightly gratified when Chris glanced over distractedly. At least she was keeping track of him. “Let’s go.”

“Nothing?” Luke got to his feet. “What kind of geek strategy is that?”

“Mine.” He led the way out of the shop, not looking at Chris again, not wanting to see her going all dewy-eyed over Mr. Canned Beef, as Luke had appropriately named him. That kind of torture Zac could do without. He’d thought he was so smooth asking her for a date. He was never using the phrase Dinner sometime? again.

“Are you going to ignore me for the rest of my life?”

Zac made a sound of frustration and stopped among the shaded tables and coffee-sipping patrons outside the store, swinging around to face his brother. “No, no, I’m not. I’m sorry.”

Luke peered up at him. “She’s got you, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Liar.”

Zac shook his head and kept walking. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Yeah? Where are we going?”

“Home to pack up dinner, then we’re going to the beach to eat it.”

“Beach in February. Cool.”

“I’ll give you about ten days to figure out why I moved to California.”

They passed a woman wearing tight jeans and a low-cut top with a push-up bra. Luke turned, lowering his sunglasses for a better look. “Dude, I figured it out already.”

* * *

THEY’D FINISHED DINNER—Zac in an only marginally better mood—and were sitting next to a bonfire on Aura Beach when Zac’s phone rang, making him tense and then instantly exasperated. When was he going to stop hoping that it was Chris calling? Chris texting? Chris emailing? He really needed to figure out a way to get this woman out of his head before he became unhealthily obsessed.

Yeah, probably way too late for that.

He hauled out his phone and broke into a grin when he saw who the caller was. Jackie Cawling, a friend from his years in the Peace Corps, in his late twenties. They’d both been assigned to Kenya and had dated for a year or so—long-distance, since their towns were miles apart. After their assignments ended, they’d realized their attraction had mostly been based on each other’s familiarity in a strange land, and they’d parted pleasantly. Jackie was still traveling, had never settled down and probably never would. Every now and then she’d call, occasionally even show up, and then disappear until the next time he heard from her.

“Jackie! Where are you calling from this time? Italy? China? Australia?”

“Much more exotic.”

“Bali? Cook Islands? Venus?”

“Even more out there. I’m in Los Angeles. I have a few weeks with nothing to do before I start a job on a llama farm in Peru and I’m sick of the city and craving the mellowness of the Central Coast. Want to see me?”

“Absolutely.” He couldn’t stop grinning. “You need a place to stay? My brother’s here, but he would love to sleep on the couch.”

“Hey.” Luke was indignant. “She better be totally hot.”

Zac covered the phone to whisper, “Incendiary.”

“Yeah?” Luke’s eyes lit up. “Couch works for me.”

“Thanks, Zac,” Jackie said. “It’d just be for a day or two. I have a friend with a cabin in the middle of nowhere on the beach just up the coast from you, and I’ll want to hang out there and do my hermit thing for a few days. Then I have some buddies I’m seeing in Santa Cruz and blah, blah, blah, on up the coast. I plan to hit Carmia on Saturday. That’s the seventh, I think. That okay?”

“That’s great.”

“Awesome. I can’t wait to catch up. You finished your master’s yet? Wait, of course you have. Last time we talked you were about done. So, doctorate now? Where are you applying?”

“Stanford, MIT, Columbia and Penn.”

“Oh, my—” Her familiar deep laugh made him smile. “What, you’re not trying any good schools?”

“Nah, wasn’t up to it.” He leaned back on the blanket, feeling much better. Jackie knew him about as well as anyone did. Kind of hard to play mind games or hang on to fake attitudes living in a remote African village. “So what about you, Jackie? Where have you been? What have you been doing?”

“I’ll fill you in when I see you, at great length. In fact, I look forward to staying up all night over cups of coffee the way we used to. However, I need to know now, since I am a gossip slut, is there a potential Mrs. Zac?”

He snorted. “That remains to be seen.”

“Ooh, I’ll want details.”

“Nothing to tell yet. Why, is there a Mr. Cawling?”

“Nope. Only temporary relief now and then for me. I won’t get married until I’m too old to travel. Then I’ll find you wherever you are and propose.”

“That sounds like a deal. I’ll see you Saturday, Jackie.” He hung up, warmth spreading through his chest, and felt himself finally starting to relax. Jackie was unique: a strong, confident woman, comfortable in her own skin, generous and dedicated to helping make the world a better place. If he had half a brain he’d fall for her instead of being crazy about a woman who had no idea who she was.

At least Jackie’s timing was perfect. He could use a friend, and he could definitely use a distraction.

* * *

SUMMER WIPED DOWN the counter at Slow Pour, even though it was already clean. Not much going on this morning. A couple of chairs taken, not exactly a rush at the counter. The café was doing well overall, maybe even a little better than when Eva had been here, but there would always be quiet times. Thank goodness.

If you asked her—which no one had and no one probably would—Summer would say that Chris was sorta losing it. She was still acting calm, certainly calmer than when she’d arrived back in October, all wound up. It had been fun watching her slowly relax over the next little while under the influence of Central California.

Then she’d discovered the Peace, Love and Joy Center and had made a typical newcomer mistake, thinking she had to totally submerge herself in their let-it-be philosophy, instead of just taking from it what worked for her. It was hard watching Chris’s constant struggle to battle her real nature. And also kind of funny, though it wasn’t very nice of Summer to think so.

But over the past few days, she’d noticed things starting to slide. Nothing huge, nothing that would interfere with business. Chris had forgotten to clean a portafilter on the espresso machine. She’d left sales paperwork out on the counter. Toilet paper hadn’t been reordered until they were nearly out. The type of mistakes Summer would have expected from flighty Eva, but until now Chris had run the shop impeccably.

Summer had a pretty good idea what had unsettled her temporary boss, but as she said, no one was likely to ask her. The benefit of looking like a stereotypical California girl was that people assumed she didn’t have a brain in her head and expected little. Which was handy when she wanted to be ignored, and annoying as hell the rest of the time.

She had big plans for her life, though she hadn’t told anyone about them. Telling invited scorn, doubt or ridicule. Or worse, polite encouragement that served as a front for total disbelief. Summer wanted to go to college—no, she was going to college. Full-time, not just taking one online class at a time the way she was doing now. And then she was going on to graduate school, in psychology. She’d be the first in her family to get an advanced degree. From there, Summer wanted to—was going to—become a therapist, to help kids who hadn’t grown up in a house with major identifiable drama for which there were already support networks in place, like alcoholism, drugs, physical abuse or mental illness. But for kids like herself, whose parents had just really sucked at child rearing.

But first...she had to be able to afford full-time college. She’d almost been there, had been planning to start in January, and then her car had died, and her flaky sister needed another loan to pay off credit-card debt, and Summer had had to use a chunk of her savings. A frustrating setback. She’d gotten a really nice scholarship from Cal Poly, and the administration had been great about helping her defer matriculation by a year, but she couldn’t keep putting it off.

Next fall, she’d make it there for sure.

The door opened. A kid came in, about her age, maybe a year or two older, wearing nearly round John Lennon sunglasses with smoky-gray frames. Very cool. A small shock of attraction hit her and she pushed the feeling away. Good-looking guys came into Slow Pour all the time. She should be used to it by now.

“Hey.” He ambled up to the counter, jeans and T-shirt hanging off his wiry frame. “Is Chris here?”

“Not until two.” She smiled pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, um...” He took off his sunglasses to reveal blue eyes framed by long black lashes; a silver ring pierced his right eyebrow. Heart-stopping eyes. Big-trouble eyes, the kind that made her feel stupidly flustered. Eyes that, now she thought about it, seemed oddly familiar. “I was looking for Chris.”

Uh. Hadn’t she just explained that Chris wasn’t here? “She’ll be here at two. I’m taking the morning shift today.”

“Yeah, um...yeah, okay. You said that. Sorry.”

“Did you want to leave her a message?”

“No, no. No, that’s okay.” He laughed nervously. His mouth was full and very sexy. “I’m being a dork, aren’t I?”

Summer lifted an eyebrow, not sure how strongly to agree with him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Luke.” He held out his hand. “Usually I’m very together. Very smooth. Probably the coolest guy you’ll ever meet.”

She couldn’t help a half smile. “Cool Hand Luke?”

“Sorry?”

“Never mind.” Obviously his parents didn’t watch TV incessantly. Hers practically never left their recliners. Her brother and sister had inherited the same disease. Summer had had it, too, until she reached high school and realized she was going to have to take responsibly for her own life if she wanted to live it differently. “I’m Summer. Did you want me to tell Chris you stopped by?”

“I was wondering if she wanted to come down to the beach with Zac and me. Do you—”

“You know Zac?” Summer adored Zac. If he was closer to her age, and if she had any chance with him, she’d fall madly in love. But he wasn’t, and she didn’t, so she kept her hormones under control.

“He’s my brother.”

“Right, of course.” No wonder those eyes looked familiar. Luke was considerably younger, thinner and darker than Zac, with a stronger nose, but the eyes were the same. This must be the brother Zac had flown to Connecticut to rescue from whatever mess he’d gotten himself into. “I should have guessed that.”

“Yeah, we’re like twins. Most people can’t even tell us apart. I’m surprised you didn’t think I was him when I walked in.”

That got a laugh. He was nervous, edgy, carrying around pain, she guessed. The signs were easy to recognize once you knew them. Her sister, Angela, was the same way. Hilarious, but in a way that made you uneasy to be around. “Can I get you some coffee?”

He glanced at his watch. “How about I come back at two and have a cup with you?”

Uh... Summer could handle this type of question easily from strangers—a quick, polite no, thanks—but she had a hard time saying no to Luke. “I’m not really supposed to date customers.”

“It’s not a date, and because Zac paid last time we were here, technically, I’m not a customer.” He shoved his fingers through his longish, ragged hair and shook it back into place. “No big deal. I’m new in town, don’t know anyone my age, just thought maybe...”

Summer bit her lip, taken aback by how much she wanted to accept. This kid had apparently been through some tough times and could use a friend. But she wasn’t sure how much trouble he’d gotten into, and she wasn’t wild about becoming part of his recovery.

“Never mind. Nice meeting you. Tell Chris I stopped by.” He tapped the counter and started walking away, trying to look cool but managing only to look too thin and fragile and rejected.

“Wait.” She gestured him back before she’d had time to think about what she was doing.

He turned, eyes hopeful. If he’d looked even remotely triumphant, she would have sent him out again, having realized he’d manipulated her. “Yeah?”

“What did you do? What did Zac have to rescue you from?”

“Only myself.” He looked younger when he smiled big like that. “I got into a bar fight. I was drinking too much, hanging with the wrong crowd. But I went to therapy and now I’m perfect.”

Summer laughed. “Yeah, congratulations on that.”

“Change your mind about coffee? I’m harmless. Just looking for a friend.”

Summer grinned. She had a thing for damaged guys, had dated a couple, attracted by their need, naively thinking she could help them. But she’d discovered that damaged guys made really poor partners. All their energy went into coping with just being themselves. “No, thanks. But I’ll see you around, I’m sure. Carmia’s a small place.”

“Yeah, maybe some other time.” He looked so sweet and hopeful she felt herself softening.

“Maybe.”

“Let me know when you’re ready. I’m a patient guy.”

She doubted that. But she did feel bad for him. She understood loneliness, how it could alter your perception of everything, from how you felt about yourself to how you felt about the weather. And she understood that impulse, when you felt adrift, to latch onto someone who was firmly anchored.

“See ya.” Luke backed up a few steps, putting his sunglasses back on. Then he gave her an I’m-so-cool thumbs-up and barely missed bumping into the door on his way out.

Summer smiled, preferring his clumsy moments to the pretentious ones. At least they were real. He was probably the kind of kid she’d be seeing on her figurative couch someday. It wouldn’t be bad to talk to him, see if she could figure out what made him tick. It would be like preparation for her university program even without more than a course or two under her belt.

And she could count on Zac to keep him in line if he ever stepped over it.

In the meantime she’d have to forget that he was, in his own cocky and slightly pathetic way, really, really cute. Her life plan included relationships, but she was looking for someone mature, ambitious, respectful, supportive and able to love openly and deeply. Gorgeous and built wouldn’t hurt, but it wasn’t as important.

Too bad Zac was out of her league. And from what she’d seen of the way he looked at Chris...not likely to change.

But his brother... She turned away from the counter, looking for something to do to keep herself occupied until the next customer came in, still feeling light and fizzy, thinking about the way Luke looked at her, how hard he’d tried to be a tough guy, yet how easily he’d admitted to his flaws and his efforts to fix them.

With Zac’s brother she’d have to be careful.


3 (#ulink_3ab46e49-8d5b-5123-9674-2fedd6d7e0d9)

“FOUR TOTALLY HOT guys asked you out on Monday? In one hour?”

“Yes.” Chris sat in a half lotus on the rug in Eva’s living room, breathing calmly, waiting while Eva shouted the news to Ames—they’d just gotten back to Ames’s luxury Manhattan apartment after a movie and late-night dinner. Ames had been a regular at NYEspresso and had tried to go out with Chris before he met Eva and totally changed his idea of the perfect mate.

“I still can’t believe it. How many dates did you agree to go on?”

“None.”

“What?”

Chris had to pull the phone away from her ear. Her twin lived large in every way. “Well, none yet. I mean, they were all right there watching me. It was completely weird.”

“Okay, but you didn’t actually say no to any of them.”

“I barely said anything.” She stood, centering herself, trying to distribute her weight evenly. “I think I was in shock.”

Her sister giggled. “I’m not surprised. So which hot hunk o’ man flesh are you going to start with?”

“Gus.” Chris didn’t have to see Eva’s face scrunched into incredulity to know what she looked like.

“Gus? Are you kidding me? No offense, Chris, but I’d pick any of the others over Gus, even not ever having seen Luke, who if you ask me shouldn’t be in the running because he’s a mere babe. I would definitely pick Zac first.”

No, not Zac. Chris tipped her head to one side, feeling her neck muscles lengthen and relax. “Gus is a sweetheart.”

“He’s a sweetheart, yes. A sweetheart with no brain.”

Chris grimaced. Eva was sort of right. But around Gus she could hang on to her Zen-like calm. Bodie was too overwhelmingly sexy, Eva was right about Luke being ridiculously young, even younger than Gus, and Zac...

Chris was many things around Zac, but calm never seemed to be one of them. He seemed to push a button that made her revert to her combative, overly judgmental and high-strung former self.

“I owe Gus. We had one pretty awful date when I first moved out here. I promised him a second chance, but he didn’t collect until now.”

“Months and months later. Don’t you think that’s extremely weird?”

“He’s a guy.” Chris tipped her head to the other side. Breathe in. Breathe out. “An ambitious surfer who’s been busy catching waves. Maybe he’s been dating someone else. I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter to me.”

“Wow, Chris, you sound about as excited about this date as someone looking forward to an IRS audit. I’m worried about you.”

Chris rolled her eyes. Once again Eva refused to clue in to her new outlook on life. “No, it will be fun. I’m looking forward to spending time with him.”

Eva sighed. “Ames is telling me to butt out.”

“Ames is a very smart man.”

“When have I ever butted out of anything? If you ask me—”

“I didn’t.”

“—you are depressed. You really need to start—”

“Depressed?” Chris’s head snapped upright; she jammed one hand onto her hip. “Eva, this is nothing like depression. I’m trying for something I’ve never had in my entire life, total contentment and total confidence in my ability to give up control and just be in the moment.”

“I get that.” Eva’s voice gentled. “Really, I do. It just...doesn’t sound like you.”

Chris closed her eyes, let her arm drop and recentered her body, trying to maintain mental equilibrium. It occurred to her suddenly that her twin might just be disoriented by the changes. She tried to think how she’d feel if their positions were reversed and Eva started behaving differently. It would certainly be confusing and frightening. Maybe Chris would react negatively, too. “People change, Eva.”

“They don’t change that much. Not fundamentally.”

“Trust me, I’m more me than I ever have been.” She glanced at her watch, trying to ignore Eva’s exasperated snort, though it hurt a little. “I have to go. Gus is picking me up in a couple of minutes.”

“Now? It must be after ten there.”

“What, do I have a curfew?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re just not a late-night person... Right, I know, you’re changing. Well, have fun. Don’t do anything stupid like fall for him.”

“Om Saha Naavavatu. If the crystals align, and my chakra bids me to do it, I just might.”

“Uh...Chris? You’re really scaring me.”

Chris’s laughter died into dismay. “Eva, I was kidding. I don’t really talk like that, and I’m not going to fall in love with Gus. Please don’t worry about me. I’m really fine.”

“But— Oh. Ames is telling me to butt out again. I’ll let you go. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Eva.” Chris hung up, unsettled and anxious—the way she used to be nearly all the time. She and Eva rarely disagreed, especially about anything so personal. Thank goodness she had a weapon against that kind of tension now. Eva would come around when she saw how much freer and happier Chris was in her new skin, and how their relationship would only change for the better. Next time Eva decided she wanted to go out after Chris had already settled into a comfortable chair with a good book or movie, Chris would be all over it instead of declining. Maybe she’d even cut her hair for real at some point.

A peaceful minute later, she was calm again, adjusting her funky wig, smoothing the hem of her casual floral tunic top which she wore over skinny jeans, and remembering the outfit she’d worn on her first date with Gus—a fancy white top, carefully ironed blue linen shorts and matching sandals. For heaven’s sake.

This evening would be fun. Casual and playful. Definitely out of the ordinary. On dates in New York, she’d go to a show, a movie, a museum or to any of the thousands of fantastic restaurants. Ah, New York.

Tonight she was going to play pool and darts in a bar with Gus and his buddies. Now that she was so much less judgmental, having let go of the fear that required her to be in control at all times, she was open to so many more experiences. She was quite sure she’d love this one.

* * *

THREE HOURS LATER, Chris walked back into the house, head pounding, throat hoarse from shouting over the music and over the other people shouting over the music.

She’d hated every minute of tonight.

The pool hall had been loud and full of too-young, weird-looking people, and as much as she tried very hard to love and accept them all, she really wanted most of them to grow up and be quiet and stop drinking so much. A long, hot shower would be a super idea for many of them, too. And maybe a few could give the tattoo parlor a rest after six or seven thousand visits.

Yes, she’d gotten one tiny tat on a particularly fun evening last fall when she’d been out with Summer and the rest of the part-time staff for a meeting that had turned into a bar visit and a trip to the parlor. She and Summer had both gotten tattoos—after Chris insisted on paying. Summer got a tiny rose on the inside of her upper arm. Chris’s phoenix was rising from the ashes to signify her new self emerging. Clichéd, but she loved the symbol. At least her tiny delicate bird didn’t take up most of her visible skin so it looked as if she’d been rolling in used engine oil.

She pulled off her wig, kicked off her flip-flops and went into the kitchen to gulp a glass of water. Gus had been adorable, entertaining, eager to please, but thank God, finally even he’d had enough and had brought her home, where she’d kept their good-night kiss to a quick, sweet peck and fled, hoping to discourage him from asking her out again.

Weirdly keyed up—annoying since she was exhausted from being up since five-thirty that morning to work the early shift—she wandered around Eva’s adorable little house, watered the plants, and finally decided what she really needed to relax after the crowds and brain-pulverizing noise was a long, soul-cleansing walk on the beach.

Five minutes later, wearing black knit capris, waterproof Teva sandals and a pink sweatshirt, with her real hair stuffed under a matching pink New York Yankees cap, she stopped by the table next to the front door and grabbed her little bag containing an electronic whistle and pepper spray. She’d never felt threatened or uncomfortable on Aura Beach, but kids did go there to drink sometimes, and drunk kids could get really stupid.

Outside, the neighborhood was quiet except for the wind through the trees and waves tumbling in the distance. By the time she’d made it to the bottom of the hill and turned onto La Playa Avenue, her body was relaxing, her headache lessening. She sent Slow Pour a silent, affectionate greeting as she passed, and several blocks later turned right onto the path toward the beach. When the scrubby growth under her feet gave way to sand, she stopped to check in with her surroundings and her instincts.

The moon was bright enough not to need the flashlight app on her phone. The beach appeared deserted.

Chris’s mouth curved in a smile. How perfect. In New York when she felt caged and restless late at night, her options were the twenty-four-hour gym a few blocks from her house or staying home and dealing with it.

She sighed rapturously and walked toward the waves, reveling in the fresh ocean breeze. The perfect antidote to an evening spent with—

What was that? Her peripheral vision had caught two shadows off to the right at the base of one of the cliffs bracketing the beach. Two people were getting to their feet. With luck she’d disturbed a horny couple making out, not partying guys looking to cause trouble.

Chris unzipped her bag and slipped a hand inside, trying to look unconcerned, hoping the two shapes would head for the path and be gone.

No. They were heading toward her. They both looked male.

She closed her fingers around the pepper spray, adrenaline pumping, telling herself to stay calm, breathe easy, to send out peaceful loving vibes, and hope they were just going to offer to hang out with her and go away when she said no.

One of them shouted something as a wave broke, the rumble and swish of water drowning his words. She couldn’t see their faces, but the taller one’s lumbering stride looked familiar.

Zac?

And could that be Luke with him?

She didn’t relax until they were close enough to tell for sure, which must have been when they could tell for sure who she was, because they went from what had seemed like an ominously relentless advance to smiling and waving.

For heaven’s sake.

She rezipped the bag, her heart still pounding like crazy. There was not enough Zen in the world to stay calm during that kind of episode.

“Hey, Chris.” Luke was beaming.

Zac looked— Well, as usual she couldn’t tell. He was so hard to read. Except when he was being smug. That came through loud and clear.

“You guys came close to being pepper-sprayed.” Her voice shook with relief, but she kept her body still, counting on the noise of the waves to cover up the tremor in her words, not wanting the guys to know how badly they’d spooked her. “It’s a terrible idea to sneak up on a woman alone at night.”

“Hey, we weren’t sneaking,” Luke said. “We were walking. And we yelled out to you.”

“Sorry, Chris. We didn’t mean to freak you out.” Zac put his hands on his hips, as usual able to see through her attempts at hiding anything.

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” She waved the concern away. “I just came down here to clear my head and to—” Be alone.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but just as she was about to say them, she looked up at Zac, who was looking down at her, his face dim with the moon behind him, and an odd shiver—not unpleasant—passed through her body.

She’d wanted to make it clear that she didn’t want him—them—around tonight, but some part of her wasn’t entirely sure that was true. And she was supposed to listen to her true inner voice and its needs and to comply, because that wise subconscious part of her knew best.

Darn it.

“I’m beat. I’m going back up to the house.” Luke’s voice was a little too loud, not quite natural. “I’ll see you later.”

Zac made a noise that sounded like a suppressed snort. “Sure. You know the way back?”

“Uh-huh. Up to La Playa, then right, then left on Feo Salmuera and home.” He waved and walked quickly up the beach, calling out a singsong, “Have fun, guys,” that was brimming with mischief.

Chris put her hands on her hips. “Zac.”

“Chris.” He turned back to her, his face catching the moonlight from a new angle, making him a broad, mysterious masculine form in the half darkness.

That funny, fizzy shiver hit her again. “Were we just rather pointedly left alone?”

“Looks that way. Do you mind?”

As usual, he took her aback with his directness. No, she didn’t mind. Yes, she most definitely did mind.

And so it went with Zac.

“I came down here to be alone.”

“Okay.” His voice was quiet, even. She could take lessons from him on staying calm. He acted as if he didn’t care one way or another whether she stayed or left.

Not that she cared if he cared one way or another whether she stayed or left.

Really.

“How about I go back over by the cliff where Luke and I were talking, and when you’re ready to go let me know and I’ll walk you home. That way you get your alone time and I won’t have to worry about you.”

“Oh.” She frowned at the ocean. What a thoughtful and sensible solution. She got what she wanted, and he... Well, who knew what he wanted? He had asked her out to dinner three days ago, on Monday, but maybe that was on a whim he now regretted. “Okay.”

“Good.” He backed up a few steps. “Just wave at me when you want to leave.”

“Wait, so that means you’ll be staring over here the whole time?”

“Oh, sure. I have binoculars and X-ray glasses. Standard stalker equipment.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Serves me right for asking.”

He lifted a hand and walked back toward the cliff. Chris wrapped her arms around herself. The farther away Zac got, the more empty the beach felt—but not in a good way this time. What was her inner voice trying to tell her?

Aw, crap.

“Zac.” He kept walking. “Zac.”

His lumbering form turned back.

She hurried over. “Hey.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, no, I just...” She gestured lamely. “I guess I changed my mind about hanging out.”

“Okay.” Again, he didn’t sound either glad or upset. She should take lessons. He was that good.

She fell into step beside him as they walked toward the cliff face. “Does anything ever upset you?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Because I was wondering that.”

“Ha. Yes, of course things upset me sometimes.”

“Has anything ever upset you around me, or do you just never show it? Because I’ve never seen you—”

“Chris.” He stopped walking. “Can we start with ‘How was your evening? How are things going? What have you been up to for the past few months?’”

“Okay.” She stared up at him, wishing she could see his face better. “How was your evening?”

He chuckled and kept walking. “Fine, thanks. Luke and I went running, then we had dinner, watched some TV, got hungry again and brought more food down here.”

“How is he doing?”

Zac sat on one side of a blanket spread at the bottom of the cliff, leaving her plenty of room to join him. “He’s okay, considering he changed coasts and is starting his life over. Are you hungry?”

“Actually, yes.” She dropped down next to him. She was starving. There had been little at the bar that wasn’t loaded with cheese or deep-fried or both. “What do you have? Man food, I bet. Cheetos and beef jerky?”

“C’mon, this is California. We brought sushi, papaya and fair-trade chocolate.”

“No way.” Her stomach growled viciously. Thank goodness the waves were loud enough to cover the sound. “Do I have to high-five you and call you ‘dude’ to eat it?”

“If you want.” He lit a small lantern that threw a warm circle of light onto the sand and their blanket. “But how about you tell me about your evening instead?”

“I went out with Gus.”

“Yeah?” Zac’s body hitched as he leaned toward the cooler, but his voice stayed even, so she couldn’t tell if he’d reacted or not. “How was that?”

“It was okay.”

“Not great?” He handed her a take-out container with a few remaining pieces of a sushi roll. “Spicy tuna.”

“Yum, thanks. We went out to play pool.”

“Really.” He was smirking. “I seem to remember you telling him pretty pointedly last October that pool was not on your list of things you like to do.”

“That was then.” She picked up a piece of sushi. “I’m open to more experiences now. I’m glad I went.”

Zac put a container of cubed papaya on the blanket between them. “You seeing him again?”

A big bite of really wonderful spicy tuna roll gave her the chance to think before she answered. On the one hand, her dating life wasn’t really any of his business. On the other, it was a perfectly normal question. If a woman had asked her, she wouldn’t have blinked.

But Zac was definitely not a woman. “I thought we were catching each other up on our evenings and the past few months.”

“Fair enough.”

“So what have you been up to the past few months?” She grabbed another piece of tuna roll. Sheer heaven.

“Let’s see.” He relaxed down onto his side, supporting his head on his palm. “Before I left, I finished my master’s thesis, defended it and passed.”

“Hey, congratulations.” Chris was taken aback. Before he left? He hadn’t mentioned it to her. You’d think he would have been bursting with the news. “What was your thesis about?”

“Introducing clean water systems in isolated areas. I can go into a whole lot of detail if you want. It’d take, oh, say, about an hour. Minimum.”

“Maybe another time?”

He grinned and stole a piece of papaya. “Then I finished my doctorate program applications and was about to schedule a vacation to Costa Rica when I got the call that Luke had been arrested. He’d gotten into a fight with a kid from another school over something really important, like whose hockey team was tougher.”

Chris winced. “Boys.”

“Yeah, but I don’t cut him any slack for that. He’s twenty-one—he knows better than to be a hothead idiot. Plus he’d been on a drinking binge. So stupid. So that took a while to sort out. We all agreed he needed a break from UConn, where he wasn’t doing that well anyway, and a break from his usual life, and a break from my dad, who means well but isn’t cut out to parent a lost kid.”

Chris nodded sympathetically, feeling strangely lit up. She didn’t think Zac had ever said that many sentences to her at once, and she was pretty sure he’d never shared that much about his life before. Maybe she hadn’t given him the opportunity? “That’s a lot to cope with.”

“Nah. He’s family. He got a bad deal growing up. My mom died when he was really young. Pretty much a baby.”

“Oh, my God, I’m sorry. That must have been devastating.” Chris pressed her lips together, aching inside. A bad deal, he’d called it? Typical Zac understatement, undoubtedly representing a hell of a lot of pain, and not only Luke’s.

“So Luke is here now. As soon as he finds a job, I hope he’ll settle, maybe go back to school at some point if he can get in anywhere around here. But he needs to do some growing up first.”

“He’s still pretty young.”

Zac didn’t respond, which surprised her until it hit her that if his mom died when he was a teenager, he’d undoubtedly had to grow up a lot quicker than Luke.

Her heart started a slow sympathy melt.

No. She was not going to allow herself to get soft on Zac. It was really late at night—or really early in the morning—and she was exhausted and therefore a little giddy and vulnerable, and he was an undeniably large, warm, sexy presence beside her in the cool air on the deserted beach, spilling out his heart in a way he never had before.

Breathe in, breathe out.

“Now tell me how your last few months have been.”

“Oh.” She speared another of the sweet, juicy papaya pieces, wishing the fruit was this fresh and flavorful back east. “I’ve had a really great time.”

“Guys been asking you out every hour on the hour?”

“No! That was really weird.” She laughed, feeling herself blush in the darkness. “Most of the time I was feeling my way through changes at Slow Pour.”

“I like what you did. You got rid of some of the clutter without sacrificing the comfort or quirky feel of the place.”

“Thanks.” She was surprised he’d noticed, though given how well he could read her feelings, she probably shouldn’t be. That was so different from the men she knew. Her father could probably pick up on a hint of sadness if one of the three women in his family was writhing and sobbing on the floor at his feet, but other than that... “And I took a few weeks of classes at the Peace, Love and Joy Center, trying to unblock myself, surrender to a deeper consciousness, and become freer and less stressed.”

“Ah.”

She frowned. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Me?” He sat up to unwrap a bar of chocolate and broke off a row. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you think I’m spouting New Age crap.”

“No.” He handed her the squares of chocolate. “I think the idea that you have to fix something about you is crap.”

“I’m not trying to fix anything—I’m uncovering the real me. You must think it’s possible to change or you wouldn’t have brought Luke here.”

“Luke is trying to change his perspective and his circumstances. Not who he is.”

Chris bristled. “I’m not even sure who I am. The real me has been blocked my whole life, and I’m only just getting at her. You can’t claim to know her and what she needs better than I do.”

“No, of course not.”

Chris struggled to relax. Darn it, Zac had gotten to her again. “All I know is that I have felt charged up and mildly panicked my whole life, and now I feel I can be free of that. How can that be wrong?”

“It’s not. I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. If this program is making life better for you, that’s a good thing.”

Chris waited, a piece of chocolate held so close to her mouth that her salivary glands activated. Was he really as sincere as he sounded, or was he making fun of her again?

He seemed calm.

Yeah, big surprise.

She ate the chocolate, feeling oddly cheated by his surrender, which was crazy. The last thing she needed was more arguing.

“Okay, so now we’ve discussed our evenings and what we’ve done for the past few months.” Zac shifted on the blanket. “I get to ask. Are you going to see Gus again? Are you going to have dinner with Bodie?”

Chris frowned. “Why do you want to know?”

“Jeez, Chris.” Zac exhaled impatiently. “Why do you think?”

Another one of those pesky thrills chased around her body. Was he saying he was interested? Jealous, maybe? Stop. At the center she’d identified this crazy-making habit of projecting her own thoughts onto other people and had sworn to avoid it, even if it meant putting herself in awkward or potentially vulnerable situations. From now on, communication had to be honest and clean, always. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Okay, I will.” He wrapped his arms around his knees. “Because Gus is interested only in surfing and himself and Bodie is interested only in surfing and himself, plus getting laid as often as possible. Gus will treat you like crap because he doesn’t know any better, and Bodie will treat you like crap because at heart he’s a misogynist.”

Chris straightened, annoyed by his response. He sounded like a big brother trying to keep his naive little sister from dating the school bad boy. “I’m not planning to marry either of them.”

“Good.” Her response clearly annoyed him, too. “You’ll get along fine, then.”

Chris retreated into silence, totally aggravated by the tension that had ruined the mood of their evening. And aggravated that she was aggravated because she’d spent so many months deliciously calm. Who cared what Zac thought of her love life? He was—

Stop again. Another old pattern—coming up with an outraged defense to distract herself from the truth. Truth always needed admitting and facing, no matter how hard.

Okay. Truth time. Zac’s big-brother answer to her charged question had pricked her ego. Deep down she’d wanted him to say he was jealous of her dating other men. Because...

Because...

Because she was attracted to him.

The minute she admitted the truth, she felt the aggravation draining away, giving her a moment of relief before it was replaced by the almost worse panic of vulnerability.




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