Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2)(3)

“I don’t know what to say, Ray,” Sean finally said. “I invited her. I want you to meet her friends—for work purposes. I want Mary to meet Krista. That’s about the gist of it.”

Ray sighed, “Well, I won’t let you lead that young lady around by the nose, Sean, whatever you might think. Even though she’s well able to look after herself, I won’t let you lead her on. I thought you should know. Other than that, I don’t mind the extra company on Saturday.”

“Great. See you then,” Sean said shortly.

Ray clicked off.

Sean looked at the earpiece for a long time. Ray didn’t usually hang up on him without saying goodbye. He didn’t usually give him so much grief about the girls he chose, either. He certainly didn’t lose faith in him so readily. It made Sean feel uneasy. But it didn’t change his mind.

He had to see; to end this curiosity once and for all.

~*~*~*~

The morning of the barbecue, Krista got on her scrubs and went for a run. She needed to calm her nerves before meeting Sean in a personal setting. She had told Kate and Jasmine to be on their best behavior, but she knew they would start acting up as soon as Sean threw a line. She was worried.

Her running route wasn’t a tough one; it was a flat, paved path that ran along a four-lane highway directly above Ocean Beach in San Francisco. Krista was on the fourth mile, sweaty and loving it, when she saw a surfer coming up from the beach.

Out–of-shape surfers were extremely rare around those parts. It was a sand breaking beach, which meant there was no coral; just a steady rise of earth where waves came in and broke multiple times before they slid onto the sandy beach. It meant surfers had to paddle, paddle and paddle some more to get out past the breaking waves. It took a lot of energy and perseverance, not to mention a high-calorie breakfast, to keep going long enough to make it worth it. It was another reason she didn’t surf there.

As always, she watched as the surfer approached the path, his wetsuit pulled to his waist. Most of the time these guys had great bods, and only some of the time they were old, so chances were that being creepy paid off with eye-candy.

This dude was no exception. He had chest and arms that would make a gal drool. He wasn’t over-built, like he spent his whole life in the gym, but he probably did some weights to fill himself out. He had just the right physique to fit casually into a trendy muscle shirt. Also for a girl to show off to her friends.

He quickened his step across the path, trying not to impede her way, when he stopped suddenly. “Krista?”

Her eyes were lazily traveling up his glistening chest, as she always did when surfers dared show skin, when she heard her name. Her eyes jumped to his face and directly into Sean’s almond shaped eyes.

Shock rocked through her body, causing her legs to stiffen and get tangled together. Being that she was nearly done with the four miles, and her body was severely taxed, she couldn’t recuperate gracefully. Instead, she dove, head first, into the dune shrubbery beside the path. She skidded on her side, swore, then rolled to a stop.

As was customary around Sean the Savior, she felt two big, strong hands lifting her up. Overtired, she let them.

When she was nearly upright, she locked her legs to make it easy on him to set her to rights, but in reality she still looked like a toddler learning to stand. She wobbled around for a minute, testing her balance, and noticed Sean’s left hand on her arm to steady her.

“I’m good,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his. “Sorry about the sweat.”

His eyes were vivid green and worried. His dirty-blond hair was wet and tossed every-which-way. The sun glinted off his high cheekbones, accenting his noble features. Krista watched a droplet of water glimmer as it made its way down the middle of his six-pack. She shook herself out of creep mode.

“Holy crap, McAdams, where did that body come from?” she laughed, seeing two more surfers approaching. They had wet suits intact, covering up the goods, the cheaters.

Krista bowed and put her hands on her knees to catch her breath, filing away the image of Sean’s body into her mental Rolodex. Christ on a cracker she was tired. She looked at her watch while he was befuddled and complimented herself on the good time. Next week she would break her current record, she was sure of it--if she wasn’t still sore from this week.

Sean, finally recovering even though he hadn’t been the one running, laughed in embarrassment. “Uh,” and gestured toward his surfboard.

Krista nodded and looked around. She was about a quarter mile from finishing. Also from her house. It was far enough.

“Can I escort you to your car?” she asked, looking for something to lean on.

“Are you sure you aren’t going to die on the way?”

“No.”

Sean grunted and started walking, and she followed in a collection of wheezes.

“You were really moving,” he said as they made it down the slope to the street.

“I like to keep it in gear. It makes it more entertaining than just loping along.”

“You look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks man.”

He laughed as he led the way to a house across the street. There were no houses actually on the beach, like in L.A. Here, there was the beach, a small highway, the narrow path that Krista ran nearly every day, a small hill with dune plants that she’d just dove in, which led down to a street, then a row of houses. It depended on the height of the small hill if the houses had an ocean view or not. The one they were walking toward did.