Wild Child. Cindi Myers

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “Maybe so.” Drew’s expression sobered. “But you don’t have to prove anything to them. Remember what the doctor said.”

      “Doctors!” Gus’s voice was filled with scorn. “They may know a lot about medicine, but what do they know about living? The only reason I’m in as good a shape as I am at my age is because I’ve stayed active. How many of those doctors do you think could hang ten on a monster curl? I could do it with my eyes closed.”

      Drew knew the old man was telling the truth. Back in the day, Gus Jamison had been a three-time world surfing champion. Two generations of surfers had learned to shred waves under his tutelage. But his heart attacks had ended all that—if only Drew could get his grandfather to accept it.

      He picked up the clipboard that held the entry forms for the surfing competition and ruffled through the papers. “You’re not going to have time for surfing anyway,” he said. “I expect we’re going to be really busy during this festival. I’ll need your help here in the shop.”

      “Sure, I’ll help out as much as I can,” Gus said. “But I’m going to be spending some time down at the Sin on the Beach set.”

      Drew had a good idea why his grandfather might be attracted to the television production. Gus might be seventy, but he still had an appreciation for pretty women in bikinis. “What business do you have down there?” Drew asked. “Are you hoping one of those actresses will need help with her wardrobe?”

      Gus sat up straighter. “For your information, I’ve been hired for a role in the series.”

      All the breath rushed out of Drew and he stared at his grandfather. “What?”

      “Some producer from the show came in here yesterday afternoon while you were out. He was looking for props to use on the set. We got to talking and the next thing I knew he asked if I’d be interested in a small part in the episode they’re filming.” Gus stroked his mustache. “I guess he recognized star quality when he saw it.”

      Drew shook his head. “Grandpa, you never cease to amaze me.”

      “It’s called charisma, boy. I like to think I passed some of it on to you.” He arched one eyebrow. “I understand the show is auditioning for extras this morning. Maybe you ought to go down there and try out.”

      “I think one star in the family is enough,” Drew said. “Besides, somebody has to stay here and run the shop.”

      “You worry too much about this business,” Gus said. “It’s a surf shop, not IBM. Cooter can keep an eye on things if we’re not here.”

      Drew nodded. The Surf Shack’s sole employee, Cooter Dixon, was an affable beach bum who knew almost as much about surfing as Drew and Gus. He was capable enough, but it wasn’t the same as having one of the shop’s owners behind the front counter.

      “I want you to get out there and have some fun for a change,” Gus said. He picked up a flier and perched his glasses on his nose once more. “It says here, participants can earn points and a chance to win a beach house.”

      “I already have a beach house,” Drew said. “Why would I need another one?”

      Gus scowled at him. “Do I have to teach you everything? Find some sexy beach bunny and offer to help her win points toward the beach house.”

      An image of Sara wearing that hot bikini popped into Drew’s mind. He wouldn’t mind some fun and games with her. Then his daydream morphed as a cell phone appeared in Sara’s hand. He frowned. It figured that the first woman he’d been really attracted to in ages was even more distracted by work and responsibility than he was.

      “I’ll make a deal with you,” Gus said.

      Drew eyed his grandfather warily. “What kind of deal?”

      “You sign up to participate in some of these festival activities and I promise to behave myself and take it easy.”

      “When have you ever behaved yourself?” Drew said.

      Gus grinned. “They say even an old dog can learn new tricks.”

      “Let me see that flyer.” He held out his hand and Gus passed him one of the brightly colored sheets of paper. He scanned the list of activities at the bottom. He had to admit some of them sounded like fun. It had been a long time—almost the entire two years he’d run the shop—since he’d cut loose. It might do him good to relax a little. And if he could convince a certain babe in an orange bikini to relax with him… He grinned. Then Gus might not be the only ladies’ man in the family.

      3

      SARA CLUTCHED her beach bag more tightly to her side and fought the urge to turn around. Ellie had kept her part of their bargain and headed out bright and early this morning to the auditions for Sin on the Beach. After her makeover she’d looked fantastic—a little softer, but still sexy and just edgy enough to heat any man’s blood. Unless this Bill guy was blind or gay, he wasn’t going to be able to resist Ellie’s combination of sex and savvy.

      Now it was Sara’s turn to master her nerves and sign up for the surfing tournament—and finagle a private lesson from Drew. She’d resolutely switched off her phone after sending an e-mail to Uncle Spence letting him know she’d be out of touch all day.

      She did have her phone with her, strictly for emergencies, but it would stay in her bag and off unless absolutely necessary.

      A leisurely walk down the beach from her bungalow brought her to the Surf Shack. The weathered building was perched on pilings just beyond the pier, with steps leading up to a broad front porch. Sara stood out front for a moment, gathering her courage.

      “Come on up, young lady.” A stocky, white-haired man with a thick moustache, dressed in board shorts and a T-shirt came out onto the porch and beckoned to her. “Whatever it is you need, I can fix you right up.”

      She smiled and started up the steps. “Are you Gus?” she asked.

      “I see my reputation precedes me.” His grin broadened and he took her hand. “And what’s your name?”

      “Sara.”

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sara.” His gaze swept over her appreciatively. “A pleasure indeed. Are you a surfer?”

      She shook her head. “No. But I’d like to be.”

      “Then you’ve come to the right place.” He started to lead her inside, then stopped and looked back at her. “Are you dating a surfer? Or anyone else?”

      Amused by this odd line of questioning, she shook her head. “No.”

      “Perfect. Come inside. I want you to meet someone.”

      She allowed him to lead her inside, where Drew was busy at the front counter with a customer. He looked every bit as gorgeous this morning as she remembered—sun-bleached hair falling over his forehead, a faded T-shirt stretched across strong shoulders.

      Not wanting to be caught staring at him, she looked around the shop. The place was packed with stacks of yellow and green life jackets, kneeboards, surfboards, shelves of sunblock, T-shirts, board СКАЧАТЬ