Beach Bum Billion-Heiress (The Beach Squad Series Book 4) Page 6

  A microphone squealed off to my left, and a feminine voice chuckled as she introduced herself to the growing crowd. I moved in that direction, hoping to catch some live music before I turned in for the night.

  The lead singer, a buxom blonde from what I could tell, started playing a keyboard and a good looking, barefoot guy stood at her side, strumming a ukulele. I elbowed my way between bystanders, trying to get a good look at the singer, who looked familiar, which was odd since I didn't really know anyone here in HB yet. By the time I made it front and center, the woman had begun singing, her raspy voice perfect for the laid back love song lyrics.

  Quickly dropping my bags of fruit to the ground, I broke out into a smile, recognizing the singer. I put my two index fingers in my mouth and let out a shrill whistle in appreciation for some kick ass music. The singer looked right at me and I saw her eyes widen. Then she smiled, winked at me, and kept singing without missing a beat.

  Hessa, the blonde who looked down her nose at me earlier today, was now singing on the street corner with a man I was guessing was her boyfriend. And she was damn good! I couldn't help but move my hips and start dancing, right there in the street, in a cocoon of happiness all by myself.

  The love song morphed into another one, the beat picking up. I left my grocery bags where they lay and lifted my arms up over my head, eyes closed, just listening to the beat of the music from my new friend. My hips took the lead and rolled side to side, my whole body moving to the rhythm, unconcerned with other people, my father, my trust fund, the direction of my life. Nothing existed except this perfect moment in time. I'd thought I was in heaven a little earlier, but add in this beautiful, live music and I couldn't imagine myself more relaxed or at peace.

  Hessa thanked the crowd and let us know she was taking a quick break. I clapped till my hands hurt, then used them to let out another shrill whistle. I had no idea that kind of passion and sultry voice was contained in that prim and proper woman I'd met earlier. Just goes to show you that you can't judge a book by its cover. A lesson I wished more people would learn.

  I saw Hessa taking a swig of water, then whispering to the man on the ukulele. He nodded and then looked up to scan the crowd. His gaze stopped on me, then went back to Hessa. Well, that was obvious. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what Hessa was telling him about me. If I remembered the jumbled introduction yesterday, his name was Kai and he was Jax' best friend. Uh oh.

  Before I can tuck tail and run, Hessa stepped back up to the microphone and introduced her next song. I didn't have the heart to walk out of her performance, even if Kai's continuous stare was like a thousand needles digging into my skin. It would be rude to leave, and I was never rude. Well, except to weak men who mistook me for an easy ride into my father's personal space. But that was different. They deserved my rudeness.

  Before the weight of Kai's stare dragged my mood down, I got back into Hessa's music, really enjoying the sultry beat combined with her throaty vocals. Forgetting everything but the music, I was back to dancing, my whole body flowing faster and slower, depending on the beat of the song she played.

  When she called out the last song, I popped my eyes open and saw that the sun had all but dipped into the ocean, taking its light with it. The mood shifted and her last song followed. It was deep and dark and sexier than the ones before it. I kept moving, getting turned on simply by the sway of my hips and the beat of the song. This mood, this lighting, was made for lovers. Made for hands skimming down the sides of my body as I moved. Heat shared between two people. The meshing of hard and soft planes.

  The song faded away at the end and I opened my eyes, wishing more than ever I had a special someone to share the moment with. Before I'd caught my breath or released the desire from my veins, I saw Kai waving to someone to my left. I followed his line of sight and saw Jax.

  He was standing perfectly still among a throng of people bustling about. His body was angled away from the stage area and instead, turned facing me. He looked good in a tight black t-shirt that hugged his biceps and pulled tight across his muscular chest. But I didn't even see all that at first. What I noticed first were his eyes, still discernible in the darkening sky. Those blue eyes were glowing bright and focused intently on me.

  I froze, my brain taking longer to process what was happening. How long had he been standing there? Had he been watching me dance when I was oblivious to everything around me? If the intensity of his eyes was anything to go by, then my guess was yes.

  My heart rate picked up at the implication of his staring, and the cool, night air felt refreshing on my overheated skin. People were walking back and forth between us but neither of us broke eye contact. I saw Kai coming up next to him and I knew I'd better leave before this perfect night was ruined by talks of fathers, businesses, and our stark reality. I flashed him a quick smile, winked, and then picked up the bags at my feet.

  And then I turned and walked away as fast as my long skirt and racing heart would let me.

  "Well?"

  "Well, what, father?" I pulled my robe around me tighter and sat up straight, which was ridiculous. He couldn't see me slouching in my chair, enjoying another late breakfast on my patio watching the families arrive at the beach for a day of fun in the sun.

  "You know what I'm asking, Sage Vanderman. How's the purchase of the property coming along?" My father's voice barked through the phone, and all my worries came tumbling back in the form of a knot in my stomach and an ache in my temples.

  I took a deep breath and mentally suited up in the armor I reserved for all conversations with my father. "It's going well. I met with the current owner and have started negotiations."

  "Good, good. Shouldn't take much to make him sell. My appraiser said the place was a shithole."

  "Well, actually, it's not well maintained, but what your appraiser didn't tell you was that it's a local landmark. And it's--"

  "I don't give a shit about some local yammering on about how things were in the good ol' days, Sage. It's time to move forward and it's your job to make sure they see the value this restaurant will bring to their community." He paused and I bit my tongue. "Maybe I should send Drew down there to help out."

  "No! No, father, everything is just fine. I'll call you back as soon as the deal is signed, okay?" I panicked, promising something that I didn't think was going to happen, maybe ever. But I couldn't have Drew, my father's right hand man, down there with his nose in my business. And I surely didn't want him hassling Jax.

  Drew was the last limp dick I went on a date with before I left New York. He was just like every other guy my father had set me up with. The date was about as boring as a church choir rehearsal, with Drew's only aim being to get in the good graces of my father. Earlier in life, when I was more naive, I'd slept with a few of these assholes, thinking the power suit would translate to the bedroom. Big mistake.

  "If you're sure you can handle it..." My father sounded unconvinced.

  "I know I can handle it. Let me prove it to you." I stood and paced back and forth in my bedroom, anxiety from the phone call making me crave the movement. "I can't always rely on you, father. I need to do this on my own." I knew he'd agree with that statement.

  "You're right about that.” A harried breath. “Okay. Call me when it's done."

  The click in my ear was a blessed sound, meaning I'd escaped a visit from my father's minion for just a bit longer. I'd long ago given up hope that he would end a call with a heartfelt 'I love you' or a quick inquiry about my day. My father was all business, all the time.

  I sat back down, my coffee gone cold on the table beside me. I may have been living in paradise, with the open sky and expansive ocean fooling me into believing I was free as a bird. I was anything but free, simply in an invisible cage of my father's creation.

  There was nothing for it. I needed to regroup, forget any feelings I may been harboring for Jax, and get my head back in the game. I had a property to buy, a restaurant to build, and a trust fund to grab.

&n
bsp; "Ya'll are sick little bunnies, you know that?" I managed to gasp out. My calves were on fire and I thought my heart would beat right out of my chest. Bent over, my hands on my knees, I wondered for the first time if I was all show and no go. Going for a run was a usual occurrence for me back home, and I looked like your typical lean runner, but that flat trail had nothing on this sand that you sunk into with each step. It was like trying to run through quicksand and going nowhere fast.

  Hessa barked out a laugh. "Oh yes, I know what you mean. These girls took me jogging when I first met them too. It's a near death experience for the first few months. Then you acclimate and just like that, it feels remarkably pleasant."

  I swiveled my head in her direction, the only body part not in pain right then, and found myself eye level with her legs. "This must be why you have such kickin' stems."

  The girls all giggled. "We've heard Kai likes those legs in your high heels and pencil skirts, Ms. Woodland," Esa ribbed Hessa.

  "All right ladies, we're here to solve a problem for Sage and Jax, not to speculate about Hessa's love life." This came from Shasta, the woman I'd met when I came down to the beach to meet up with the Beach Squad. She was older than the rest of them, maybe in her late 40's, and I was quickly seeing that she was the mother hen of the group. Like a drill sergeant. She kind of scared me.

  She turned her attention to me and explained. "We never leave a woman behind. Let's walk for a bit." Then she marched off, confident we'd follow.

  I pulled myself upright and promised myself a massage tomorrow if I didn't embarrass myself in front of my new friends. Whining was not okay in my book. Suck it up, buttercup.

  As I hobbled along, I tried to explain my point of view, knowing they were probably all on Jax' side, given their prior relationship with him. My guilty conscience needed to feel like they at least understood where I was coming from. Like their understanding would assuage my guilt somehow.

  "You guys already know, if I don't buy that property and build a successful restaurant, my father's company is ripped away from me. My father made it perfectly clear that he'd brook no argument on this. I know Jax isn't making much money, if anything at all, with The Surf Shack, so it just makes sense to buy it from him and move on. Jax gets money in his pocket, I get my restaurant. It's really a win-win."

  There was silence for a few minutes as everyone thought about my predicament. I let hope bubble up in my chest, starting to believe my own spin on the deal. Maybe if I got them to see it from my point of view, they'd even help me convince Jax.

  Bailey didn't look at me as she kept walking along the water's edge, but I could tell her words were for me. "Did you know Jax was about to marry his high school girlfriend up until just a couple years ago?"

  I almost stumbled as a pain shot through my chest. A pain that felt a lot like jealousy. Which was ridiculous. I'd just met the guy and I certainly didn't have strong feelings for him in just a matter of a few days. And besides, he was old enough for me to have assumed that he had serious relationships before. It would be weirder if he hadn't had a long term, serious relationship by now. I frowned as I realized that I hadn't, so maybe I was the weird one. Reaching up to rub my nose, I was a little ticked off it hadn't started tingling to warn me about this dangerous turn in the conversation. Great, now my nose was failing me too!

  "Jax had picked out a ring and everything. A few days before their eight year anniversary, and the day he planned to propose, she broke up with him. Left a note on his bed, cleared all her stuff out of his apartment while he was at work, and left."

  That pain in my chest turned to sympathy for Jax. What a terrible thing to have happen. He must have been so hurt. I mean, I was happy to hear they weren't together any longer, but what a hurtful way to end a long relationship.

  "You know the worst thing about it? She told him in the note that she was tired of him working all the time and having so little to show for it. Can you believe that shit? I mean, the guy works two jobs and that bitch up and left him over money. Don't get me wrong, he lucked out in the end not marrying her, but still. Damn heartless."

  I waited a moment and then piped up, hoping I wouldn't piss them all off. "I can't imagine how hurt he must have been. But, what's that have to do with me?"

  "I think what Bailey is trying to infer is that Jax won't take kindly to you charging in there and waving some money around to get your way. In fact, that'll probably make him even more stubborn in his stance." Brinley's voice still tripped me out. She had the body of an Olympic athlete, a machine in a woman's body. And then she had this high pitched, sweet voice like a Disney princess.

  I thought about what she'd said, but couldn't see how offering to buy his shop was the same as me waving my money around. In fact, I was pretty damn careful to not give off the image of a spoiled, rich girl. Years of dealing with people only wanting me for my family's money had shaped my clothing choices, hairstyles, and even my car selections. Just ask my father. He was flat out appalled with how ‘cheap’ I looked.

  "Well, I'm sorry, but that misperception is on Jax. I haven't waltzed in there like I was made of money. I'm actually pretty damn sick of everyone kissing my ass simply because my father has money, especially men. The last thing I'd do is flash my money around," I spat out as I marched through the sand.

  "Whoa there, killer. We didn't say you did anything of the sort. But if that's how Jax perceives it, we thought you should know where his head's at." Esa put a hand on my arm, slowing me down so I stayed with the group. "Sounds like you've had your own run-in with crappy friends if they took advantage of you for your family's money."

  Looking around at the girls, they either nodded at me or gave me the same soft smile. Like they saw right through my temper tantrum to the hurt below the surface. I didn't know quite what to say to Esa's statement since no one had ever asked me about the negatives of being rich. Everyone just assumed it was mansions, Lamborghinis, and vacations with hot pool boys doing your bidding.

  I looked down at my feet as I dug them into the cool, wet sand. "Don't get me wrong. Hot pool boys are nice. Very nice. But at some point you get sick of all that and just want to have a real relationship with someone who isn't in it for the free ride, or to get an in with your father, or just to be invited to the most exclusive parties. I want best friends and a boyfriend who love me for me. Someone who will let me make my own decisions yet still rock my world in the bedroom. Strip all the money away and they'd still be by my side, you know?"

  Looking up, I see them all nodding at me, understanding clear on their faces.

  "Hell yes, woman. You need a Beach Squad!" Shasta broke the pity party moment with her loud, gruff voice. The others all agreed with squeals and hand clapping. They managed to pull me into a messy group hug. Someone's elbow clipped my chin in the melee, but I just went with it. It felt too nice to have the hugs and acceptance. These friends may be crazy and brand new, but they were mine now.

  "Hold on a second, let's go back to talking about those pool boys." Bailey waggled her eyebrows and we all laughed, breaking apart to continue our walk. All talk of boys, fathers, businesses, and even pool boys, was left far behind.

  9

  Sage

  "A large black coffee with one sugar, please." I was making a quick stop at a coffee shop just a few blocks away from The Surf Shack, on my way back to rent another surfboard from Jonny. I'd told Jax that I'd go with him next time, but now that I knew he'd be working out on the jet ski, I could go surf by him and he could make sure I didn't kill myself. So, I was kind of keeping my promise. Totally.

  "Cream?" The bored barista asked me from behind the counter.

  "No, thanks."

  "Raw sugar, white, or stevia blend?"

  "Um, white?"

  "Packet or cube?"

  My jaw dropped open for a second there. "Surprise me."

  I just couldn't anymore. This line of questioning was reminiscent of my days at trendy little coffee spots in downtown New York. I much preferred
the sleepy little beach town vibe. Black coffee with sugar. Shouldn't need twenty follow-up questions.

  I sauntered over to the back wall and checked out the pictures hanging haphazardly to the wallpapered surface, like a crazy aunt put them up one at a time over the years with no regard to aesthetics. Spotting a weathered picture that looked a bit like Jax' father, I studied the men in the frame with him, sure they were famous locally for something.

  "You a surfer, young lady?"

  I spun around and saw an older gentleman sitting at a table near me, coffee in hand, newspaper spread out over the table.

  "Yes, actually I am. I'm not very good, but I'm trying." I gave him a broad smile, loving his old cardigan and the newsboy cap on his head. Something about old men made me happy. Not the corporate stiffs my father surrounded himself with. Just the Mr. Rogers types, out for a quiet stroll or a cup of coffee over the morning paper, all while in an old brown sweater.

  "Well then Max Stern would have been the perfect guy to teach you. He was a good surfer himself, when he wasn't busy working at The Shack." The old man pointed at the picture I'd been looking at. "He was a pillar of the community for decades. His shop was the place to chat, talk politics, or meet famous people driving through town."

  "It was the bee's knees, huh?" I kept smiling, enjoying the stories about Jax' father.

  He chuckled, his wrinkled face telling me he'd laughed a lot in his life. "Oh, it was! All the pretty girls would hang out there. Used to drive Sherry crazy. Max never strayed though. He was devoted to Sherry and his son, Jax. They were his whole life, even more so than The Surf Shack. Now that boy, Jax. He's running The Shack now and lifeguarding at the beach. He's a good boy. Works too damn hard though. We rarely see him." The old man frowned, shaking his head. "The town's changing. What worked then doesn't work now. Sometimes it's hard to know what to hold onto and what to let go of."