ISBN: 9781483558615
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Chapter One
Big Sur, California
More than ten years had passed since Ben Rafferty had left the Cincinnati suburb where he’d grown up, not the least bit sorry to leave behind the cold, snowy winters and mundane Midwestern existence that had been all he’d known since birth. Those sentiments were now strengthened tenfold as he walked a few more yards down the gravel road and was left both speechless and breathless by the sight he beheld.
This wasn’t his first trip to California – or even to the central coast – but Ben knew he’d never seen a vista quite like this one before. The view of the mighty Pacific Ocean as it crashed over jagged rocks, framed by majestic coastal cypress trees, was most definitely a one in a million sight. And a photo of this exact vista would make the perfect accompaniment to the article he was currently writing on traveling Highway One – which, in his well-traveled experiences, was the most beautiful stretch of road anywhere in the world.
He focused the camera that he’d never really gotten the hang of using – after all, he was a writer, not a photographer. But he’d taught himself, experimented, and muddled through the process over the past few years since he’d begun living the life of a nomad. With a view like the one in front of him right now, however, the pictures would practically take themselves.
Ben had only snapped half a dozen shots when the mildly amused feminine voice behind him announced lazily, “You do realize you’re trespassing, don’t you? And that the locals around these parts have been known to shoot at outsiders?”
He had been an accomplished writer since his pre-teen years, and was certainly familiar with the meanings of words like “poleaxed” and “gobsmacked” and “thunderstruck”. But he’d never once come close to actually experiencing any of those reactions until now – as he turned and stared at the girl who was unquestionably the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
The petite but curvy goddess was gazing back at him steadily, evidently not the tiniest bit intimidated by the fact that he had a good eight inches and probably seventy pounds on her. A corner of her full-lipped mouth was quirked up in amusement, and a dark blonde brow arched inquisitively as she waited – none too patiently – for his reply. Her long hair was wet, as though she’d recently been swimming, so he couldn’t determine the exact shade, but the eyes that were making an equally thorough inspection of his own face and body were a clear, deep green.
She was wearing a tiny pair of fringed denim cutoffs, her long legs tanned and toned, her small feet bare. But it was the navy polka dot bikini top that his gaze was drawn to – and fixated on – for the miniscule garment bared a whole lot of a really amazing pair of tits.
Short and Stacked glared at him. “You’ve already got one strike against you for trespassing on private property. Are you trying to really piss me off by staring at my boobs?”
Ben grinned in spite of himself, and slowly dragged his gaze back up to meet the little spitfire’s emerald eyes. “Sorry. It’s just – ah – well, I figured the view of the ocean from up here was the most sensational thing I’d ever seen. And then I turned around.”
She rolled her eyes. “Really? That’s the best pick-up line you can manage? Don’t bother trying to think up anything more clever, either. Trust me when I say I’ve pretty much heard them all, and one is generally lamer than the next. So, is that your motorcycle parked up at the top of the driveway? Guess you didn’t see the huge ass sign that says Private Property – No Beach Access.”
He gave a brief shrug. “I saw it. But all I wanted to do was take a few photos, figured I could slip in and out before anyone noticed me. They’re for an article I’m writing, and I’ve been searching for the perfect shot all morning. This is definitely it.”
She narrowed what he’d already concluded was an extremely perceptive gaze on the camera he held. “Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to get the perfect shot of anything with a piece of shit like that. Who sold you that pathetic excuse of a camera anyway?”
Ben frowned as she sauntered over to where he stood, holding out her palm as she did so. Somewhat reluctantly he placed the camera in her hand. “Sounds like you might know a little something about this stuff. Is that right?”
She grinned and gave him a flirty little wink. “You could say that, Blue Eyes. I’m Lauren, by the way. Lauren McKinnon. And my Uncle Malcolm is a very accomplished photographer. He’s had books published, exhibits, yada, yada. He gave me my very first camera when I was five years old. So, yeah, I know a “little something” about them. And I know that this,” she gave his camera a disparaging glare, “isn’t something I’d give a child to use.”
Ben emitted a low whistle. “Malcolm McKinnon. Yeah, I’ve heard of him. He’s one of the most famous nature and outdoor photographers of the past few decades. Oh, and I’m Ben. Ben Rafferty. And I’ll, ah, be on my way now. I really didn’t mean to trespass.”
“Wait.”
Lauren continued to shake her head disapprovingly at the camera she still held. Admittedly he’d relied on the nerdy sales clerk at the discount electronics store to recommend a camera, and since money had been an issue he hadn’t been able to afford anything too fancy.
She glanced from the camera to the ocean and to his face. “You’re right. You aren’t likely to find a better view than this one anywhere on this part of the coast. And it would be a criminal offense to even try and publish a shot of my beach that was taken by this hunk of junk.”
Ben chuckled. “Your beach? I was under the impression that the coast was public property in this state.”
Lauren shrugged. “Figure of speech. And technically the view belongs to my parents. I mean, the house does at least. Do you want to come inside for a minute so I can get a real camera?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Sure you want to invite a stranger – not to mention a known trespasser – into your house?”
She smirked, giving him a very thorough onceover. “Well, honey, from what I can tell your bod’s really rocking it underneath that T-shirt and those jeans. But I’ve taken guys your size down without breaking a sweat so, no, I’m not the least bit worried.” At his look of disbelief, she added, “I also started doing martial arts when I was five. I’ve got three black belts – kung Fu, karate, and judo – and working on earning a fourth in capoeira.”
Ben glanced at the admittedly tight, toned body that nonetheless didn’t look capable of kicking him in the shin, much less toppling him to the ground. But while her petite, trim figure didn’t intimidate him in the least, the flash of emerald fire in her eyes made him feel more than a little uneasy.
“Well, in that case, how can I refuse?” he replied. “Lead the way.”
He followed her back up the driveway, amazed that she never flinched even once as her bare feet glided over the gravel road. He had to duck his head as he followed Lauren though a break in the tall hedge that grew along the perimeter of the property, and stepped up onto the wide redwood deck at what he guessed was the back of the house. As they walked onto the deck, they were very enthusiastically greeted by a trio of Australian Shepherd dogs. After a few minutes of petting the animals – who seemed especially enthused to lick Ben’s face and lean against his legs while he scratched behind their ears – Lauren uttered a few succinct commands that the dogs obeyed instantly, each retreating to various corners of the deck. And then he was speechless for the third time in the past fifteen minutes as he got his first glimpse of Lauren’s home.