“Go on,” she said. “I’m gonna hang for a while and then go back to the bungalow. And don’t look so stricken. I’m fine. He’s not even really here, right? And I can totally handle bumping into someone who vaguely looks like a guy I dated a while ago. Really,” she added because her friends still seemed dubious.
Despite their obvious hesitations, they finally left, but not before making her promise to call if she needed anything.
She wouldn’t.
Even if Taylor were on the island—and why would he be with Morgan gunning to score big promoter points with his boss?—it wasn’t as if Laci were still pining for the guy. Yes, she’d been blindsided before, but she’d wised up a lot since then. She’d confused pheromones for love and she’d gotten seriously burned as a result, her surfing triumphs tainted with the sour stench of sex traded for prime publicity ops. Sodding scumbag.
She’d left him on the beach in California and she’d never looked back.
Laci was not like her mom. Everything she had, she’d earned. And now here she was at Girls Go Banzai, a competition that she’d only dreamed about, and certainly hadn’t hoped to achieve so soon. And, as Drea had said, XtremeSportNet saw potential in her, when they picked her as the Banzai wild card, and she was going to make sure they also saw a star.
Of course, for that to happen, she had to get up off this beach. And right at this moment, with the sun beating down on her, that seemed like the hardest thing in the world.
With a sigh, she wriggled deeper into the sand and said a silent thank-you that the first heat of the competition was still weeks away. JC was right—even though they had work to do in these upcoming weeks, relaxation was definitely on the agenda. Laci loved Hawaii, and although she intended to practice within an inch of her life, she also wanted to chill. Because in the end, the stereotypes were true: a laid-back, loose surfer would do way better in competition than a surfer wound tight as a spring.
And the news of Taylor’s possible presence on the island had definitely wound her up.
She just needed a few more minutes to let the sun and sand work their magic on her muscles.
Feeling utterly decadent, she arched her foot, then pressed her toes under the top layer of warm sand to the cool, wet mush below. The change in temperature shot through her, and that combined with the warm sun on her belly and breasts sent a sensual trill through her body.
She breathed deeply, enjoying the sensation and enjoying more the fact that she’d gotten here on her own. Taylor Dutton might have been an A-1 ass, but she’d kicked him firmly to the curb. She was here on this island in this competition because she’d earned it. Earned this sand. Earned this chance. And she intended to enjoy it.
“Heaven,” she whispered, her word coming out on a soft breath.
“Looks like it from here,” came the response in a deep, masculine drawl filled with Southern charm and ripe amusement.
Laci’s eyes flew open, and she found herself staring up into the ice-blue gaze of the one man she’d hoped never to see again.
The man who’d screwed her over.
The man who’d ruined her reputation.
And yes, the man she’d once loved with all her heart and soul.
Taylor Dutton.
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