San Amaro Singles: Slammed Part 11

He really was.

Why was it that suddenly it all didn't seem so dramatic? Almost as though he'd been all worked up over nothing.

"So tell us about this girl," Matt said, pouring wine into a gla.s.s for Corey.

Dylan let the warm feeling inside him expand, let it loosen his tense muscles, and he laughed. "Brooke," he said, taking pleasure in saying her name, remembering their time together.

"You said she lives here? How the h.e.l.l did you meet up with someone from San Amaro in Tahiti?"

"Let's go sit in the living room," Corey said, sliding her arm through Matt's and tugging him with her.

"She works for Jackson Cole," Dylan said. In the living room, he sank into a chair and looked around. Subtle differences in the decor made him smile. The place looked less bachelor pad, with some nicely framed photographs on the wall, a soft beige throw draped over the arm of the leather couch and a big potted palm in the corner. It looked good. "She came down there to meet with me. I got booted out of my bungalow because of the storm and we ended up sharing a room." The story came easy when it was true.

"Dog," Matt said, grinning. "That would only happen to you."

Dylan laughed. "Yeah. We flew back together. She works in their Marketing and PR department and like I said, they have some things planned for me for the next few weeks leading up to the compet.i.tion."

"I want to meet her!" Corey said. "Why didn't you bring her?"

"She had stuff to do." He wanted them to think there was really something between them because he did not want them feeling sorry for him or worrying about him. "She was out of contact with her office for a while because of the storm, so she had to get caught up. Don't worry, you'll meet her."

At the wedding. That was what she'd agreed to. Hopefully he could put Matt and Corey off meeting her until then. He was going to be busy. He planned to be doing a lot of surfing, a lot of working out and a lot of mental preparation for this compet.i.tion. On top of whatever stuff he had to do for Brooke.

"How's the chocolate business?" he asked Corey.

She smiled and snuggled in beside Matt beneath the arm he had around her. "So good. I opened my store. I guess Matt emailed you about that."

"Yup."

"The place you found for me," she reminded him, and more warmth expanded in him. Hey, he'd done something good last time he'd been there.

"That's right. So it's working out well?"

"Awesome! I've got five people working for me now. It's so great having a storefront and now being able to have some time off. And business is great. I'm getting orders from all over the country. I may even have to hire more people to make chocolates to keep up with the orders."

"That's so great, Cor," he said. "You deserve it."

She grimaced, but then smiled. "Thanks."

"She still busts her b.u.t.t," Matt said.

"So do you." She gave Matt a pointed look.

"I do not." He grinned.

"You totally do. You just make it all look so easy. And fun."

"I make beer," he said. "It is fun."

"Business is good for you too?" Dylan leaned back in the chair. While he admired the success Matt had made of his brewery, turning it into a popular brew pub, it had always puzzled him that Matt didn't have higher ambitions.

"Good enough," Matt said, una.s.suming as always.

"We've been doing some cool fundraising things with some other local businesses," Corey said. "Chocolate tasting, beer tasting, wine and cheese tasting, coffee cuppings...people really enjoy those."

"Fundraising," Dylan said. "Huh."

He remembered the doubts he'd had about his surfing career when he'd been there last year. On top of being out of it for a couple of months because of his injury, he'd questioned what the h.e.l.l he was doing. Surfing was basically a one-man sport. Yeah, he had Elroy and Brett and Austin, and they did work as a team, but when he was out there on the ocean, it was all him. No one else to rely on. Just him against the ocean, a force so much greater and more powerful than him. But also, no one else benefited from what he did. When he won, the glory was all his. Which was freakin' awesome and he loved it, but still...he'd seen Corey working her b.u.t.t off to make her chocolates and he'd seen how many people loved them. She also worked with a group that helped families of people with mental illness. Matt had his business, which also made a lot of people happy, drinking his beer, hanging out in his pub, and he too partic.i.p.ated in events like the one they'd dragged him to last year to raise money for a homeless shelter.

So the sport Dylan had dedicated his whole life to had felt...selfish. Pointless. He'd even had the crazy idea of giving it up.

Of course part of that had been the PTSD symptoms he'd experienced from his accident. The shrink he'd seen after that had told him as much. But surfing was all he had. Getting back into it had been the hardest thing he'd ever done and he was proud he'd accomplished that, even though his head was still kind of screwed up. He had a goal and he was working hard to get there.

"Tell me about the wedding," he said.

"We're having it at Laguna Dorada," Matt said, naming his brew pub. "We're closing down the place that Sunday night. The ceremony will be out on the patio and then we'll eat and drink and party inside. Just fun and casual, with our friends and family."

"Sounds great. What can I do to help?"

Corey and Matt looked at each other, then back at him. "Nothing right now," Corey said, tapping her chin. "But I'm sure the weekend of the wedding we'll need help with some of the decorations and getting the chocolates to the restaurant. We're trying to keep it simple."

"The Sat.u.r.day night before the wedding, Corey's girlfriends are taking her out," Matt said. "So you and I and some of the guys should go out too."

"I'll take care of planning that," Dylan said. "A stag. We need strippers."

Corey choked on her wine. "Strippers. Oh G.o.d."

Matt and Dylan shared a grin. "What's wrong with strippers, hon?" Matt asked, squeezing her shoulders.

She shook her head, smiling. Some girls might freak out at the idea, but not Corey. She probably knew Matt wouldn't go for strippers. Or...would he? Thinking about the things they'd done last summer, nice guy Matt did have a kinkier side...

"Tell us about your surfing," Corey said, changing the subject. "You've done great over the last year."

"Pretty good, yeah. I'm ranked third in the world now."

"That's awesome."

He grinned. "This time I'm gonna do it. This time I'm gonna beat Marlow."

"They're saying you can do it," Matt said.

"Of course I can." Some things were beyond his control. He knew only too well that the ocean was a force much greater than him. But all things being equal, he knew he could do it.

They ordered pizza, talked and laughed, and over the course of the evening the tension inside Dylan dissipated. In a way, it was weird. He could almost pretend everything that had happened between the three of them last year had been three other people. Not them. And yet, the easy fun they'd shared was still there, and he slid back into it, back into the jokes and teasing insults, becoming more comfortable.

It had always been like that between him and Matt. They'd been best friends since high school. They'd had each other's backs through thick and thin, Dylan teaching Matt how to surf, Matt coaching him through high school math and physics. They'd dated together and partied together, and Matt's home had been a refuge for Dylan when his own parents were too busy fighting to pay any attention to him.

Last year had made things strained and uncomfortable for them, and Dylan had left things like that. Which was at least part of the reason he hadn't wanted to come back. He had to smile at himself. When it came to surfing, he was aggressive and fearless. Well, mostly fearless. When it came to relations.h.i.+ps, he was a big wuss.

d.a.m.n, he'd missed Matt's friends.h.i.+p though.

"I should get going," Dylan eventually said. Surprisingly it was nearly midnight, and holy c.r.a.p, he was tired. He got to his feet and helped carry pizza boxes and beer bottles out to the kitchen. He hugged Corey and kissed her forehead with genuine affection. "Good night, Cor."

"See you soon," she said.

Matt walked him to the door. "You could've stayed here," he said again.

Dylan was comfortable enough now for honesty. "No. I couldn't."

Pausing at the door, they shared a look of understanding. "We okay, man?" Matt asked.

Emotion rose up inside Dylan, including relief that he'd made it through this and things were...okay. Not great, but okay. And once again, there was no way in h.e.l.l he was going to ruin this for Matt by being a jerk. "Yeah," he said. He laid a hand on Matt's shoulder and squeezed. "We're good, dude."

Outside he breathed in the cool night air, the briny scent of the nearby ocean. Man, he was tired. He'd slept on the flight, but apparently not enough and probably all the tension he'd felt about seeing Matt and Corey again had sucked the energy out of him. For once, he was going to be happy to head back to the hotel and crash alone.

But as he drove back to the Hilton, he kept thinking about Brooke. What was she doing? Probably sleeping. He smiled, thinking about the way she curled her hand into a fist and tucked it under her chin when she slept. Weird that he knew that about her. Weird that he was going to miss having her in his bed tonight.

Chapter Ten.

Brooke spent the rest of Friday and a good part of Sat.u.r.day catching up with the work that had acc.u.mulated during her absence, including a meeting with Tim to get her up to speed on the things he'd been working on while she'd been gone. Sat.u.r.day afternoon she took Amber, her Little Sister, shopping for new bras.

She picked up Dylan at the San Amaro Hilton later that afternoon. She texted him to let him know she was there, and he was waiting in the lobby when she walked in. He leaned against the back of a leather chair, flipping through some tourist brochure, dressed in his usual knee-length cargo shorts and a loose yellow and pink Hawaiian print s.h.i.+rt. She lifted an eyebrow over the pink s.h.i.+rt, but on him it just looked right. She caught the glances of others in the lobby, both men and women, some who probably recognized him and some who just wanted to look at him because he was so G.o.dd.a.m.n gorgeous. She sighed.

"Hey," she said, stopping in front of him.

He looked up and gave her that smile, white teeth and eyes gleaming in his tanned face, and her insides quivered. "Hey yourself." He dropped the brochure onto the table and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug.

She went stiff, just briefly, surprised at his familiar contact. But why was she surprised? They'd spent days in bed together doing all kinds of wicked, naked things. A hug wasn't out of line.

Maybe because she'd been telling herself ever since they parted at the airport the day before that this was going back to strictly business. But he hadn't gotten that memo.

She slipped out of his embrace. "I parked out front. Come on." She led the way through the lobby and into the late afternoon suns.h.i.+ne, past big pots with waving palms and bright flowers, over the s.h.i.+ny brick sidewalk toward the parking lot.

In the car, she said, "So? What have you been up to?"

"Had dinner with my friends Matt and Corey last night."

"The ones who're getting married, right?"

"Right."

She bit her lip and cast him a sideways glance as she drove. "How was that?"

"It was..." His voice trailed off and he looked out the side window. "It was fine." He gave a nod. "Yeah. It was fine."

"Maybe you don't need me to go the wedding after all."

His head whipped around. "Oh h.e.l.l yeah, I do. I already told them you're coming."

"Oh. Okay then." She had agreed, after all.

"Today I hooked up with Elroy and Brett, and we did some shaping on my boards."

"Oh."

"This is the place I can experiment a little. Normally I wouldn't try something new in a big compet.i.tion, but here I can."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Waves aren't as big here. Plus this is where I learned to surf."

"It sounds like you're pretty hands-on when it comes to your boards."

"Yeah. I took some CAD courses to learn more about designing them. I'm making my board about an inch smaller, a little wider, and about a sixteenth of an inch thicker. Thinner through the tail and nose. I get better flotation, and the lightness lets me throw it around and look all whippy."

She laughed. "I have no idea what you're talking about. But it sounds impressive."

"I like doing that," he said. "It's fun working on the boards. Elroy's taught me a lot. And then I went to the gym and worked out with Austin."

"Sounds good."

"Where do your folks live?"

"Up on Seal Point. Not far."

"You're sure they don't mind me showing up like this?"

"Of course not. My family's exited to meet you. I have to warn you though, the whole family will be there. Or most of them anyway. My sister Fraya and her husband Kevin and their two boys, James and Jonathan. They're eight and ten. My brother Anthony and his wife and their new baby, Mimi. I'm not sure if my other brother Errick will be there. He broke up with his girlfriend a while back and is now leading a wild single life again."

Brooke loved her family, which was a big part of why she'd wanted to return to San Amaro to live after college. She loved San Amaro too, the nearly constant suns.h.i.+ne, the casual seaside feel of the small city, the beautiful beaches, the big pier and how pretty the streets were with their brick sidewalks and ubiquitous baskets and pots of flowers.

"Are your siblings older than you? Younger?"

"They're all older. Fraya's next, she's thirty-one. Errick's thirty-three, and Anthony's almost thirty-five."

"Wow. That's quite a family."

She smiled. "Yeah, I know."

"You're the baby, huh?"

Her smile vanished. "Yes. And they don't let me forget it." She pulled into the driveway.