Before You (Before You #1)(20)
“No, that’s not going to work. Cam planned to leave early today,” she replied, watching the play of his muscles as they stretched the front of his shirt.
“Sorry,” he laughed softly. “Try again. Both of us know Cam won’t be up until later this afternoon. Besides, it’s too late to say no. I already have everything ready and waiting for us.”
“Why would you assume I’d go surfing with you today?”
“Because you’re dying to watch me in action, and I know how much you like looking at me.”
Nearly groaning that she had been caught staring at him again, Bre quickly looked away from him, but out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Jax trying not to laugh at her reaction.
“I don’t have a wetsuit or anything.”
“Don’t worry, we have a bunch of extras. My mom likes to keep the place fully stocked for contingencies.”
Jax’s smile melted her resistance, and she really did want to learn to surf. Besides, Jax was right. Cam wouldn’t be up for at least three more hours. Bre finished the rest of her espresso. “Okay, let’s do it,” she said, slamming the mug down on the countertop.
“Really?”
“Really. Where are the wetsuits?”
“There are some in the closet of the cabana bath near the pool. I’ll meet you on the beach in front of the house in fifteen minutes.”
***
Ten minutes later Jax stood on the beach, berating himself for offering to teach Bre to surf. Last night he decided to leave her alone—no more dancing, no more sailing trips, no more drinking games, and absolutely no more kissing. Any more of that and he would forget why wanting her was a very bad idea. Unfortunately, when her saw her searching for a mug in that thin t-shirt that showed way too much of her stomach, he decided he wanted to see her in a wetsuit, and the offer left of his mouth before he realized what a bad idea it was. Sure, somewhere in his mind, he knew he wanted to ask her when he pulled a couple surfboards from the storage closet earlier that morning, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an imbecile for actually verbalizing the offer.
As Jax inspected the fin box and the fin of two surfboards to make sure everything was in working order, he caught sight of Bre walking toward the beach in a wetsuit. He loved that she had chosen the black one with the really short shorts and long sleeves. Too busy yanking on the bottom of the shorts, she didn’t notice him ogling her as she walked down the deck stairs. As she bent over to remove her shoes, the shorts rode even higher, exposing even more of the shape of her long legs that he found so fascinating on his sailboat a couple days ago.
When she looked up and made eye contact with him, she bit her lower lip nervously, then her face cleared, she nodded, and jogged over to him. “Where do we start?”
With her hands on her hips, she looked down on him as he sat next to the surfboard. When he didn’t respond, she stopped fidgeting with her shorts. “What’s wrong?”
Jax looked up at her face, but the glare of the morning sun momentarily blinded him. Dropping his gaze, he found himself staring at her long toned legs, up close this time. He wondered if the skin on the inside of her legs was as soft as it looked. His fingers itched to touch her legs or trail his finger along her thigh at the edge of her wetsuit. If he was smart, he wouldn’t think about her legs, her skin, or her anything else and stick to teaching her to surf. He could never know the answer to that question because knowing the answer to that question meant he crossed the line with her again, and he refused to ruin his band for a moment with a woman, even if that woman utterly captivated him.
He cleared his throat. “Have you ever been surfing?”
“Once when I was a kid, but I don’t remember much.”
“Okay, so first I’ll show you how to paddle and how to pop up on the sand. Then, we can try it in the water.”
Jax lay down on his stomach on his board and showed her how to cup her hands as she paddled through the water. Then, he demonstrated the pop up in three steps: pulling his hands under his shoulders, arching his back and then sliding upright with one leg forward, and his knees bent. He repeated the motion a few times.
“It’s your turn,” he said, brushing the sand off his legs.
Jax watched her lay down on the board and paddle with her hands. “Good, cup your hands a little more,” he said as he crouched down next to her. “Now try the pop up.”
She slid her hands underneath her shoulders and pushed her torso up. He pressed gently on her lower back. “It’s an arch, not a push up.” She shivered at his touch. “Are you cold?” he said, scanning her legs for goose bumps.
“No,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Okay, now in one smooth motion, jump up with one foot forward.”
She jumped up, and without thinking he placed his hands on her thighs, reminding her to bend her legs.
He momentarily froze and then let his fingers trail down her legs just a couple inches. Yes, he got his answer. Her legs were as soft as they looked. This woman was killing him.
Bre looked down at him, her eyes soft and her lips parted. “Jax,” she said softly.
“Hmm…” he responded, his fingers still on her legs, his mind imagining his mouth where his fingers were.
She cleared her throat. “Do you think I’m ready to try it in the water now?”