The Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances Series, books 1-5 Read online

  My eyes continued to burn intently as I stared at her. So much of who she was seemed to be locked away now. I couldn’t read her the way I once had. I didn’t know a lot. I had told her the truth when I had admitted that. But one thing I did know. I cared for her like no other woman since and I wasn’t going to walk away from her. Not this time.

  “The lawyers won’t accept this.” I crushed the paper in my hand. Pure embellishment. “They’ll need to draw up something official. I’ll get them to do that. Then I’ll bring the documents to you.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Have them fax it to me.”

  “No electronic signatures. Those don’t stand up in court.” More misdirection. “Why are you making this so difficult, Simone? What are you afraid of?” I pressed but she didn’t respond. “I’ll bring the papers to you tomorrow.” I pretended to give in. “The sooner this is taken care of, the sooner you can get me out of your life again. That’s what you want, right?”

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  Simone

  My view of the blue water of the Pacific was framed by the t-shaped one half mile long concrete Ocean Beach Municipal Pier on my left and the rocks of the South Channel Jetty in the distance on my right. I sat on my blanket on the beach cradling the warm mug in my hands as I listened to the waves. Even with the sun barely awake the morning after my run-in with Lincoln, there were already several surfers standing on their boards their fins stirring up trails of foam behind them.

  My thoughts drifted back to last night churning the way the sand did within the tide.

  “…that’s what you want. Right?”

  I couldn’t afford for him to find out just how wrong his supposition had been. Seeing him again after all the years had jarred me out of my comfortable drifting on the periphery groove. It had taken me a long time to get this far, too ridiculously long to smooth the waters after all that had happened. I needed to right the course. Only ridding myself of him once again would allow me to do that.

  Chulo’s squeaky bark broke the cycle of my musings, like rubber soled sneakers on a gym floor. My diminutive Havanese was the only male I allowed to have access to my heart anymore. His black and white pom pom ears flopped in the breeze, his curly plumed tail wagged behind him as he bounded back and forth on the beach, stopping periodically to rear back on his three and a half inch hind legs to pounce on crabs who dared to encroach upon his beach domain.

  I looked up as a shadow fell over me blocking out the sun’s early morning rays.

  “Hey, Simone.” Recognizing the interloper Chulo abandoned the crabs, raced over and pranced happily around the dripping surfer. He flashed a smile as my Havanese hopped around on his back legs like a miniature dancing bear.

  “Morning, Patrick.” I set my mug of coffee to the side, gathered Chulo to my chest, buried my face in his cloud of fluffy fur and smothered his cute face with kisses before setting him back down.

  “Mind if I sit here with you for a bit?” Patrick asked.

  “Not at all.” I scooted to the side to make room while he used his long zipper string to pull off his hood. He shook out his dark glossy mane of hair before he plopped down on the blanket beside me. I offered him one of my doughnuts but he made a face and waved a hand in refusal. Patrick was very particular about what he put into his body. Me not so much. And it should probably be noted that Patrick’s body was every bit as alluring as his hair. Surfing was a good all-around workout. Patrick in his wet suit gave testament to that fact much as Linc had when similarly attired in the days when I used to sit on this very same beach to watch him carve up the waves.

  “You’re here late this morning.”

  “Uh huh.” Distracted I reached for my cup surprised to discover it empty. I set it aside sighing as I watched Chulo scare a flock of seagulls into flight.

  “Chulo seems happy enough. So what’s eating you?”

  I turned to look at him. His grey as the Southern California fog eyes were steady on mine. “What makes you think I’m upset?”

  “Your forehead is all scrunched up. It gets like that at the first of every month whenever the bills are due.” Patrick was more observant than I gave him credit for. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he read my mood so easily. We’d been friends long enough for me to know that he had a keen mind to go along with his quirky sense of humor and startling good looks. He was every woman’s dream but for some reason enjoyed spending most of his time with me. “Do you need any help in the store today?”

  “No thanks. Not today.” When we were busy or I had somewhere else to be during business hours Patrick was always willing to lend a hand. But it hadn’t been busy this month. I couldn’t afford the help and his comment about the bills reminded me that I had more pressing problems than what to do about my ex.

  Reluctantly I stood and called for Chulo. He came running right away his thick fluff flying back from his masked face.

  “You can talk to me, Simone.” Patrick rose, too, towering over me. “I might be able to help.”

  Doubtful. Patrick meant well but he was just a kid about the same age as I had been all those years ago with Linc. Well, no need for my thoughts to go there. I put my hand on his arm pasting on a smile. “You working at Hodad’s today?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got the four to nine shift.” He looked at me as if he wanted to say something more but decided against it. “I can bring you a burger during my break.” The surfer staffed restaurant was just a couple of businesses down the main drag from mine.

  “That would be really nice. Thank you.” I hadn’t bothered with grocery shopping the night before even though supplies were as lean as my bank account. It had been all I could manage to get home from downtown without having a car accident along the way. Lincoln Savage was not easily dismissed. Then or now.

  Patrick nodded and loped off. A group of young bikini clad teens sitting with their legs dangling over the beach wall turned their heads to track him as he scooped his board out of the sand and jogged up the wide concrete steps to the street level. He took the sidewalk past them toward a nondescript paint peeling down to the bare concrete three story apartment building beside the pier where he shared a one bedroom unit with three other guys on the top floor. Looks and condition aside, rent with a view was expensive in Ocean Beach.

  Patrick waved at me before he crossed under the pier. I waved back before shaking out the sand from my blanket, folding it and tucking it under my arm.

  I still didn’t know what I was going to do about Lincoln but I couldn’t afford to waste anymore headspace on him. I had work to do.

  I clipped on Chulo’s leash and took the same steps Patrick had to the street level on my way to work. As I passed the public parking lot I waved and returned greetings from other early morning surfers donning wetsuits from the backs of their vehicles.

  Palm tree lined Newport Avenue started at the beach and led to downtown OB ‘s eclectic mix of shops. From ice cream to bars to psychedelic themed international hostels to tattoo shops, we had it all. The wide range of colors and shapes was unusual in California where most town zoning was uniform and strict. But we weren’t a conventional SoCal town. We had too many free spirited, thumb your nose at the system types to be one of those. But we looked out for each other as though we were one big family. That was one of the reasons I had returned.

  The bell to the shop jingled as I pushed the glass door with my name etched on it to let myself in. I flipped on the lights and surveyed the small retail space that I had painstakingly arranged, though admittedly not as artfully as the previous owner. The girl’s Roxy section was mostly pink, orange and black attire and swimsuits, while the other half of the shop was for the guys and featured lots of grey and black, with Volcom, Hurley and Quicksilver gear featured. I didn’t have any surfboards but I had all the smaller accessories to support the lifestyle. Leashes. Surf wax. Booties. And an entire rack of rash guards.

  I loved the shop I had purchased from Karen at a steal, but I knew
the inventory was getting a little tired. I also knew that I wasn’t going to survive another month on the income from it. I needed a second job. Actually a third if I counted the weekend gig at the Tiki Bar.

  I put my blanket and mug behind the counter and removed Chulo’s leash. He was the official ambassador of the shop. He found a slice of sunshine from the large exterior window to nap in while I got busy. If not like new I could at least make what I did have in the store look presentable.

  Hours of rearranging current inventory and only a handful of paying customers later I lamented having too much free time on my hands. It meant money wasn’t coming in and that I had plenty of time to think, which wasn’t a good thing at the moment. I worked and reworked the figures with a pad of paper, a pencil and a calculator before sagging against the counter.

  The numbers didn’t lie. There was no way I was going to make a profit this month.

  I felt two insistent taps on my lower leg. Grateful for the distraction from my full on fret mode over the budget, I glanced down at my Havanese. Chulo danced on his back legs his expression making his irritation evident before he tapped his paws against me once more. “Sorry fluffy face. It’s time for your walk, isn’t it?”

  He seemed to smile indulgently. His expressive green and gold flecked eyes seemed to say, ‘I only put up with you and your shortcomings because I love you, human.”

  “I love you, too.” I scooped him into my arms and was just about to turn the shop sign to closed when my cell rang. I frowned at it. The plan for the damn thing was too expensive but I couldn’t go without it. It wouldn’t be safe and I used it as my business number anyway.

  “Mona’s Surf Shop. This is Simone. How can I help you?”

  There was a long pause on the other end and then his voice.

  Lincoln’s.

  “Simone, what is this? Some kind of joke? Tell me you don’t really have a surf shop named Mona’s?”

  “Um.” Shit. I forgot that I had given him this number to call me when he had the papers ready. As if I had any other number I could have given him. It was just that I had planned on being able to recognize his caller ID. But I had been too distracted and it was my habit to answer with the shop greeting. Too late now. I would just have to brazen it on out. “Yes, this is the right number and yes I named it Mona’s because Simone sounded too French.” I twisted my hair around my finger, a nervous habit. Hopefully, he would buy all that and not realize that the shop name was mostly just a nod to the fact that I was far from over him. “Did you get the stuff back from the lawyers already?”

  “Yes and no.” He sighed and even his sigh sounded sexy to me. I tried not to imagine what he was wearing or not wearing. I suppressed a shiver. “Yeah I have the documents but well…I’m hoping I can convince you to reconsider. Maybe you don’t need the money, and I can understand why you don’t want to work with me, but having your name on a project like this is a really big deal. I wanted to ask if maybe you’d let me take you out to dinner so we can discuss it further.”

  “That’s not really a good idea.” But even as I spoke the words of refusal I glanced around at the shop and remembered that big pile of unpaid bills. A fat royalty check would probably go a long way towards solving my problems.

  I scooped Chulo into my arms. He licked my face and it tickled. “Stop that, baby.” My voice was husky with love and amusement. I giggled.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Lincoln queried sounding irate for some reason. “Is there someone with you?”

  As if.

  But I smacked Chulo loudly, a big muhwah just to give Lincoln something to think about, a slight deception that might keep him from flirting with me. I didn’t need that temptation. I looked at my pooch and he gazed back at me as if he were reading my thoughts. Taking an extra job would mean I would have less time for him and the beach, both of which kept me sane.

  Chulo seemed to nod in furry agreement.

  I could suck it up and work with Linc on this. Swallow my pride just a bit. For me, Chulo and my shop.

  “Nothing’s going on. But I’ve changed my mind. I think I will listen to your pitch. I’m having dinner with a friend at Hodad’s. Why don’t you swing by and join us?”

  Surely it wouldn’t be that hard to deal with Lincoln for the brief amount of time it would take to finalize things. Meeting him in a busy place surrounded by my friends would keep me out of real trouble.

  That was all I needed to do. Keep my focus on the end result. What I had in my life was good and I had everything that I wanted. Well, except the money. But I certainly didn’t need Lincoln or the heartache that went along with him.

  Chapter Five

  * * *

  Linc

  I lucked out and got a spot right next to the popular hamburger joint. I wondered why she had suggested it. Was she trying to send me a message by having us meet in the center of town where it had all started for us?

  I cut the ignition on the rental and threw my arms over the wheel trying to find the peace that had eluded me since last night. Hell since fifteen years ago if I was being honest with myself. And I had been even more tense and irritated since I got off the phone with her. Sure I was getting to see her which is what I wanted, but knowing there was another guy in her life made me more than a little crazy. Realistically I knew she had to have moved on. But in my heart I liked to remember the way things had been and dreamed she was still waiting on me to come back so we could patch things up and move forward together. The way I had always wanted. The way it should have always been.

  I twisted my watch band around and checked the time. I was five minutes early. I looked out the driver’s window and saw the ocean at the end of the street. I swallowed heavily. So many memories. When I returned my gaze to the restaurant I saw her, standing just outside the entrance with a guy who was young and tall enough to be on the LA Lakers. From his body language it was obvious that he was way into her, leaning over her with his hand on the wall above her head. Whatever he was saying made her entire face light up. The way it used to for me. Her gold eyes sparkled beautifully in the setting sun.

  My gut twisted and jealousy set it aflame. I gripped the steering wheel so hard the metal seemed to groan. So this was the guy. The competition. I stared at both of them till my eyes burned before blinking.

  So be it. He might be younger and he might be able to make her happy the way I once had, but I had at least one thing on him. She had been mine first.

  I got out of the jeep pocketing the key as I made my way up the wide sidewalk past several different storefronts all connected together. Some I recognized. Some were different. Diagonal parking spaces and the two way street with a yellow stripe down the center reflected the layout of a typical old fashioned downtown, except that the rerouting of the Five around the area cut OB off from more traditional and in my opinion more boring commercial ventures.

  He saw me first. His eyes narrowed slightly before he said something to her. She turned around, amusement draining from her face and wariness replacing it.

  My determined stride faltered but I recovered quickly giving her a leisurely head to toe scan. The one I had perfected over the years on women who didn’t matter. “Hey, Mona. You look smokin’ hot,” I drawled suggestively. “Who’s your friend?” I smiled but there was not a trace of amusement in it. It was more of a territorial flashing of my teeth. A message between him and me. A guy thing to let him know the score up front.

  Mona was mine.

  “Patrick Donegal.” He stepped away from her grinning widely as he held out his hand. Was he dense? Had he not gotten the message? Or did he think I didn’t rank as competition?

  If I were in his place I would have pulled her into me and kissed her. Flexed my biceps. Something.

  “Simone was just telling me a little bit about you,” he explained.

  She had never mentioned me to him before? That was interesting. I wondered if that was a good or a bad thing.

  “She says you’re a musician.”
His tone made his words a question instead of a statement.

  I nodded feeling Simone watching me closely.

  “Cool. What instrument do you play?”

  “A little guitar now. Some piano.” How old was this guy anyway? I knew the Dogs weren’t as relevant with the younger crowd. Edgier groups like Tempest were pushing us older hard rocking bands aside. But to tell the truth I didn’t really care all that much anymore. Fame had become a long, lonely, mostly dissatisfying road.

  “He sings, too.” The corner of Simone’s very kissable lips twitched. I found myself mesmerized by the sight. I wanted to taste the inadvertent amusement my evasiveness had caused.

  “Really?” Patrick cocked his head to the side the end of his stubby ponytail poking through the venting in the backwards no shoes, no shirt no problem Hodad’s ball cap he wore. A matching Hodad’s t-shirt with the same slogan and a white bar towel hung from the back pocket of his shorts.

  Why hadn’t I noticed the work duds before? I knew why. I was too busy looking at Simone and seeing red because she had been talking to him. I wondered if I might be wrong about their relationship. She didn’t say anything about her friend working at Hodad’s. God, I hoped they weren’t together. The guy reminded me of myself at that age. He probably surfed, too. I reluctantly found myself kind of identifying with him.

  “Yeah, I’m in a band. The Dirt Dogs. Maybe you’ve heard of them?”

  “Sorry.” He shook his head, and I had to smile. It actually felt good to meet someone and not have to deal with any preconceived expectations. “I’ve got a band, too. We’re just starting to make a name for ourselves. We play local gigs mostly. But we’re actually playing at the Del this Saturday night. You should come. Bring Simone with you. She says it’s too far for her old beater to make it.”

  “That sounds like a great idea.” I touched Simone’s shoulder. A flash of heated awareness rushed through me. I had wanted to touch her since I first got a glimpse of her sexy body in the crisscross botanical print halter and earth toned drawstring pants that skimmed her perfect ass. Her skin felt warm even through the layer of soft fabric. Her eyes dropped to my hand as if to say, ‘Back off’. I kept it where it was and even applied a little pressure. Her lips parted as she sucked in a sudden breath and my dick jumped in approval. Excellent. She wasn’t completely immune to me. I could see her pulse beating rapidly in her neck. Mine was beating just as fast. “What do you say, Mona?”