Lorelie Brown - Riding the Wave

The slow-burn contentedness that swept over Tanner wasn’t as surprising as he’d have expected even two days ago.

He could practically taste the possibilities now. He was home. The town’s memory was starting to untie from his father’s. And Tanner dug that. They’d always been so intrinsically intertwined, the result of growing up in a small town where his father was a big shot. San Sebastian had always been Hank’s world. Sometime during the years of following the world circuit, Tanner had forgotten that it was his world too. His home.

The only thing better would be making new memories in the place. Taking down a championship would be the best start. Another good one might be spending time with Avalon. Though she was his sister’s best friend, they were all adults. Avalon could make her own choices. There was plenty of opportunity down that road for happy making. If it were up to him, it’d be her panties he’d be working on. If she was on board with the idea, naturally.

He smiled to himself as he leaned against the tar-stained railing of the pier. She wouldn’t mind. He knew women and Avalon was definitely a special one. Both clever as hell and also into him. It had been there after he’d stolen that superfast kiss. She hadn’t simpered, hadn’t gasped. She’d only flashed him one of the cheekiest grins he’d ever seen.

But he wasn’t allowed to continue his happy turn of thoughts. A dark, shadowy figure approached from the head of the pier. Tanner dismissed him at first, but then realized that that wasn’t going to work.

An accented voice came out of the darkness. “So here we are. In our father’s town and together.”

The disks of Tanner’s spine felt like they fused into one hard line of what the fuck? Small towns could bite it. Tanner’s jaw thrust hard and he kept his gaze locked down the street the way he’d been. “My father. And, yeah, maybe the asshole was your father too. You’re welcome to him. But there’s no ‘our father’ because there’s no us.”

Mako’s dark hair roostered up across the orange-streaked sunset behind him. It only got worse when he ran a hand through the mess. The narrow shape of his eyes bore very little resemblance to Hank Wright, but Tanner could still see the ghost of the man in the way Mako looked out sideways. All sly insistence that he could work things the way he wanted.

Hank had been insanely determined like that and willing to see only his own side, even if no one but Tanner seemed to realize it. Except he’d been more like a bulldozer than a snake. Slamming through resistance with smiles and jokes had been his specialty.

Tanner pushed away from the railing. He didn’t need this; that’s all there was to it. He had enough crap piling up in his life, and at some point he needed to make a choice as to what he was doing when he left the surf circuit. Mako simply didn’t figure in the picture.

“Look,” he said on a sigh. His bones felt weary, as if he were getting old before his time. He pinched the top of his forehead, where a sudden ache had set up. “I hope you have a very nice life, and I’m not being sarcastic. I don’t wish anything against you. But . . . dealing with you means dealing with all the shit my dad left behind. I figure it’s best to let the past stay buried.”

He didn’t want to be responsible for putting his mom through that pain, not if there was anything he could do about it. With Hank dead and buried, there was simply no reason to. As long as he could choke down the memories that being in Hank’s house would bring, everything would be totally covered.

But Mako was shaking his head. “Thanks, but, no.”

“What the hell do you want from me? Thanksgiving dinners?” The words flew sharp from Tanner, but he couldn’t come close to stopping them. They swelled up from a dark and sickly place inside him that had been brewing for almost ten years. “I don’t fucking think so.”

Mako’s eyes narrowed further and his chin tipped farther forward. “Oh look, it’s like talking to Hank all over again.”

“Fuck you.”

“Thanks, brother, but I’ve got that much covered at least.” The smile he spooled out was incredibly smug and had a sharp edge of cobra to it. As dangerous as he’d always thought the man. “These California girls really do know how to make a guy feel good. And they’re so fucking gullible.”

“You’re pretty fucking smarmy, aren’t you?” That Tanner had been right about Mako all these years was a strange, unpleasant mix of vindication and distaste.

Avalon was a local girl, but she wasn’t gullible. Not by far. The idea of Mako taking advantage of her made Tanner’s skin crawl. He wouldn’t let it happen, not to her or to anyone like Sage, either. They were his important people, not this guy. Not Mako.

“Fuck you,” Tanner said again, this time more slowly. He wanted the words to drive home. He wanted to hurt Mako like his very existence hurt Tanner.

“So creative. Good to know what I’m up against.”

“Christ, why do we have to be up against anything?” Tanner shook his head. “Can’t we go our separate ways? You know what? I’ll start it.” He waved briefly and turned away. “Have a good life. Peace out.”

“I wanted to warn you that I did an interview with SURFING .”

Tanner’s feet stuttered to a stop. “Like hell.”

“It should be out the week of the Pro.” Mako’s jaw hollowed, a sharp tic of muscle right in front of his ear. “I didn’t pull any punches, either. It’s all out there.”

“You don’t have the right to wreck my mom’s and sister’s lives.”

Mako shook his head. The sun had dropped below the far line of the sea, swamping the town with dark. It seemed pretty appropriate for the discussion. Be damned if Tanner actually wanted to look at Mako.

“I think the world has the right to know what their precious surf idol was really like. Including the fact that he married your mom when she was only eighteen.”

“And he was twenty. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It looks a hell of a lot less pretty when he’s in his thirties and takes up with my mom when she’s fifteen, doesn’t it?”

Tanner’s hands curled into determined fists. His dad might have made this fuckup but that didn’t mean Tanner was going to let it get any worse. “You can’t do this. Pull the article.”

“That’s not in my control.” Except the way that Mako smirked said maybe he didn’t give a shit anyway. He was wrecking things exactly the way he wanted to.

“I’ll make your life a living hell.” Tanner had money and he had position in the surf world. He wasn’t exactly sure what Mako’s weak point was, but if he threw all their dirty laundry out in the street, Tanner would dig until he made Mako pay.

Mako’s mouth pressed flat. “You might want to ask who owns your mom’s store.”

“She does. Nice try.” Tanner’s half brother hopped right on over to extortion. Good to know.

“No, I mean the building itself. Wright Break is on a thirty-year lease. Did you know that? Buying the building was never a priority to your dad .” Mako put an insidious emphasis on the last couple words, spitting them out with angry intent.

Tanner hadn’t known. The business had never been his priority, either. As a teenager, his head had been more focused on making the world circuit than running a tiny surf shop. As an adult, he’d known that his dad had cut him out of the will, so it really didn’t matter. But the place was still his mother’s lifeblood, the thing that kept her days filled.

Not to mention Sage’s surfboard shaping was done out of the back half of the building.

“You can’t evict them.”

“You sure, bro?” Mako was still spitting words around. The anger in the air was an almost palpable thing. “But as their landlord I can certainly inspect the premises. Introduce myself.”