Lorelie Brown - Riding the Wave

“About three hours. Rang the doorbell like he was a door-to-door salesman or some other kind of bullshit. I could choke him.” Sage touched her fingertips to the glass in a move that looked way more sisterly than her words sounded.

“You didn’t though.”

“Nope. Of course not.” She sighed, turned away from the window, and flopped across the bed—a little juvenile for a twenty-six-year-old woman. Sage scrubbed the heels of her hands across her eyes. “God forbid we scare him off. Mom’s already planning a party though.”

Sage used to have her own apartment, but that changed after her dad’s death. Even though Avalon had already been living there, Sage moved back in to help her mom either shut down the surf store or sell it so she could retire—and to be near when Eileen needed her. As a result, the walls of Sage’s room were still papered with magazine cutouts of fellow surfers and bands from her high school years—and hand-drawn sketches of the surfboards that she shaped for a living.

Avalon couldn’t help but pick out the shots of Tanner. She couldn’t get away from the man and she’d be even closer to him during the next four weeks. One way or the other she’d have to get over herself. “That’s your mom, though. Any excuse for having people over.”

“And cooking. God forbid anyone might go home hungry.” Sage rolled her eyes but it was obvious she didn’t mean it. Even being in Sage’s presence was relaxing. Lots of calm and sunshine, all stemming from a happy, internal place.

Avalon envied that happy place so damn bad. Half the time she felt like she was scrambling to keep up, and the rest of the time she wanted to collapse. She straddled the desk chair and fiddled with her camera for a second.

She had to look up from under her lashes to ask. It didn’t feel like her place, and yet she couldn’t leave it be, either. “Are you gonna ask?”

“Ask what?”

God, that was Sage. Able to let any slight or problem go. “Are you going to ask Tanner what happened with your dad?”

Sage shook her head. A sheaf of hair slid over her shoulder as she rolled onto her tummy. “No. Not my business. It’s past now.”

Avalon snapped off a couple pictures. Sage barely blinked. The random picture taking was routine between the two of them. Part of Avalon’s way of framing the world in more understandable ways.

Because she didn’t get it. If her brother had been gone . . . She’d have to know why.

She wasn’t sure at all if she’d be able to keep her mouth shut while spending the next month with Tanner.

Jesus. Suddenly, something made her sit up straight. It was possible he didn’t even know yet. He hadn’t said anything this morning. As if it weren’t enough that she’d tagged around his family for close to a decade, now she’d be shadowing him personally.

She might have to tell him herself.

Tanner had always liked his mom’s back patio. The entire space was probably only twelve feet by twelve before the garage and alley cut it off, but his mom had a special touch for making it cozy. She’d squeezed in a couple chairs, eked out some plants and grass that didn’t mind the high walls and getting only an hour of sunshine a day. Next to being out on the water, it was one of his favorite places in the world.

So the quiet burn of tears that had threatened when he’d stepped out onto the flagstones wasn’t a surprise. He’d easily managed to choke them back.

His dad had been such a fucking dillhole. To put all this harmony at risk, and to put Tanner in the position of losing it. All the while, he got to look like a good guy, while Tanner was the ego-filled surf boy who wouldn’t come home.

No one had ever known how much he missed the quiet moments spent with his mom in this space.

Eileen reached out and tapped his forearm. She kept doing that all the time, finding reasons to touch or pat him. Push his hair back out of his eyes. Once he’d thought she was two seconds from licking her thumb and rubbing his cheek.

He didn’t mind, not really. It couldn’t last long, but being with his mom again . . . It made him a little warm and fuzzy on the inside.

“Is there anyone in particular that you want me to invite for Friday?” she asked.

“Not really.” Anyone he added to the guest list would be another set of eyes to stare and wonder where the hell he’d been. The weight ate at him. “If you’ve got a question, go ahead and ask, Mom.”

“Do you have a girlfriend, sugar?” Amusement glowed from her still-smooth skin. His mom wasn’t exactly over-the-hill, but a bit of silver paled out her honey-blond hair.

“No,” he said, but he couldn’t help the little chuckle that worked through him. Mothers were always the same, no matter what other drama swirled around them. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m out of here.”

Her easy smile drooped a little. “So soon?”

“I’ve been visiting for hours now.” He pushed out of his chair, but then leaned down to brush a kiss over her temple. “Besides, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Her throat worked over a swallow. The corners of her mouth managed to push up again, but a certain wavering quality took over. He didn’t like it. For a second, she looked almost old. Sickening guilt churned through him, that he could make her look like that.

But he shoved it down again as quickly. She’d look even worse if she knew the truth.

“Promise?” she asked, her voice light on the surface. Darkened blue eyes gave her away.

“Promise.”

That easily, things were better. Maybe he’d actually be able to make it all work. To balance everything.

He couldn’t afford to let all this family stuff take the fins out from under his board. Too much rode on the upcoming contest. He needed his head in the game.

On the front walk, he was slipping his sunglasses on when the door opened behind him. For half a second, he thought it would be Sage, wanting a word when their mom couldn’t hear. But when he turned, Avalon stood on the front stoop.

She looked entirely different from the way she had at the beach, but in a way she was still the same. Her hair had been dried and maybe even styled somehow so that her bangs weren’t just pushed out of the way. A thick fringe grazed above eyes that looked greener than they had this morning as well.

The biggest change was the fact that she was wearing way more clothes. The red bikini halter top was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a disappointingly respectable blouse. Not even a hint of cleavage. At least her skirt showed off a couple solid inches of smooth thigh above her knees.

Slender fingers hooked into her dark gray bag. “We should talk.”

“I think we did that this morning.”

Her soft-looking mouth quirked. “Something’s come up.”

It was weird as hell, looking at this version of Avalon and mentally layering it over the version he used to know: thin, wiry, and way too young. But that version was long gone, and he pushed the memory away. This was Avalon now. She was the one he had before him. Ignoring the past was what he was good at, after all.

“Do you mind if we don’t go back inside?” Being in what had been his father’s house had been bad enough. He’d had to employ intentional tunnel vision to make it past all the photographs and framed covers and his father’s trophies. All the things that said what an awesome guy Hank was. No way could he do it again so soon.

She shrugged. “No worries. C’mon, we’ll walk up the block to Manna’s.”

“Where?”

She struck out walking while she laughed at him. “I keep thinking of you as a local. But that’s not quite right anymore, is it?”

He let her draw even before he started moving. She smelled like coconut and toasted sun and everything good he remembered about California girls. Plus, underneath it, something different. Something tastier that called right to the bottom of him, made him want to lick and suck. And bite. “No, I don’t think it is. I . . . I don’t think I’m a local anywhere right now.”