Surf Break Read online

  “She’s a right good wave rider. Maybe she should challenge them to a surf competition. I think she’d blow them blokes straight out of the water.”

  “Good idea. I’ll talk to her about that.” Pete smiled and walked toward the front of the building to get his bicycle.

  Hamish followed behind him. “Yeah, when you take her out on that non-date to have a non-drink.”

  “Shut up. She’s going to say yes. I have a plan.”

  “Oh, ho. A plan the lad has. Can’t wait to see how that works out for ye.” Hamish unlocked his own bicycle. “Let’s get back to work lover-boy with a plan. We probably have some drunken boaters to run in.”

  They got on their bikes and rode off to finish their shift.

  * * * *

  When she finally arrived home, Juliette strolled across her living room, shedding clothes as she went. She left a trail of hair barrette, shoes, apron, uniform, and last, bathing suit. She entered her bathroom and bent over the old-fashioned claw-foot tub, pulled up the plunger and ran the hot water. She squeezed in some lemon verbena bubble bath, inhaled the delicate scent and stepped in. She slid down in the water and covered herself from head to toe in the warm water as it gushed out of the faucet.

  When she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, she came up for air. She reached her foot over to the faucet and turned it off with her toes. She leaned back against the tub and relaxed. She’d planned to surf after work but the crowd was busier than normal for the afternoon and a bath seemed much more appealing. The aches and pains in her back and feet needed attention more than another ride on the board.

  As she sat in the bubbles, she thought about the conversation with Schwartz on the beach. She giggled. Dear God, he told me it was easy enough to tell me his first name and then he didn’t. How crazy is that?

  She soaked a bit longer and just as she rose to get out of the water, she heard the creak of her front door opening. She grabbed her terrycloth robe and jerked it on over her wet, slippery body. She reached down and grabbed the first thing her hand found. The plunger. It was all she had. There was no shower rod since that part of the bathroom had been renovated to a glass enclosed space. Darn. My phone is in my uniform pocket. Now what?

  Juliette hid behind the open door to the bathroom. She almost giggled at her train of thought even in her terror of whoever was in her cottage. I never thought of closing and locking the bathroom door since I live alone.

  She cowered behind the door with the plunger held like a baseball bat at the ready and listened to the noise of someone moving around in her living room. Please don’t let them come in here, please don’t let them come in here. The words became a mantra.

  In a moment, she heard a voice call out, “Hello, it’s the sheriff’s department. Anyone home?”

  Scared that it was a ruse, she stayed silent.

  A tanned arm and hand came around the edge of the door followed by a man’s body. Juliette took a swing and hit the man in the stomach with the side of the plunger.

  “Oof,” the man let out a grunt. “Stop! It’s Deputy Schwartz.”

  She dropped the plunger to the floor and gaped at the man who stood in her bathroom. “What the hell? Why are you in my house sneaking around like some criminal? I’m going to report you.” She took a step toward the door to the living room. She turned back to him and asked, “Who’s your supervisor?”

  Pete took off his cap and grinned. “I’m the beach patrol captain. I’m afraid you’ll have to report me to myself.”

  “Don’t try to use that charm on me. You’re a psychopath, coming in my house like this.” Juliette pulled her robe tighter as she realized she was in danger of falling out of the crisscrossed top.

  “Come with me and I’ll show you the psychopath you planned to defend yourself against with that.” He jerked his head toward the plunger and let out a bark of laughter.

  “I don’t believe there’s anyone in there.” She dropped the plunger and put her hands on her hips, never realizing her action caused the robe to gape open.

  “I promise there is and we’ve caught him.”

  “A likely story. I didn’t call the police so how would you know I had a break in?”

  “This guy has been all up and down the beach today breaking and entering. Someone else called it in.” Pete’s grin widened.

  “What’s so funny? Are you laughing at me?

  “No. Not at you. At your choice of weapon.”

  “Hey, I used what I had at hand.” She glanced down and pulled the robe tighter around her.

  “Well, come on and let me show you the criminal you were going to go up against.”

  Juliette let him lead her out of the room. When she saw another officer she recognized from the restaurant and a man beside him in an animal control white coverall holding a raccoon in a cage, she let out a breath and had to giggle. “Oh, God. Was this the bad guy?” She walked over and peered in on the sleeping coon in the cage.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The animal control worker replied. “This little guy has been raiding campsites all week and ventured into town today. We’ve been stalking him and his kin for a while.”

  Juliette looked up at him. “You’re not going to destroy him are you?”

  “Nah. He’s sedated right now and he’s going back to the woods. I suggest you close your door better though in future since he may make his larcenous way back to town.”

  “I will. I’ll be more careful. I was tired and didn’t think. I made a beeline for the bath without locking the door. I think I learned my lesson.”

  The other deputy said, “Lass, you live alone. Do ye have a weapon?”

  Officer Schwartz said, “Indeed she does. She’s quite handy with a plunger. That’s what I caught her with in there.” He jerked his head toward the bathroom. “Or, I should say, what she caught me with. She gave me a whack in the stomach.” He rubbed his belly.

  The men all laughed.

  Juliette crossed her arms. “Ha ha. You’ve had your kicks for the day. Can you all go home now? I have a date.”

  The animal control officer and the deputy left taking the raccoon in its cage with them.

  On his way out, Officer Schwartz stopped at the door and said, “Oh, you have a date. Is that why you turned me down for a drink?”

  “No. I told you why I turned you down.” Does he look sad or am I imagining that? And why did he have to rub his stomach? To call my attention to his abs? His fantastic, super-sexy abs?

  “So, this guy you’re going out with is one who told you his first name?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

  “Do I know him?”

  “Maybe.” She couldn’t suppress the grin that came to her lips.

  “Who is he?”

  “His name is Ernest.” I think he does look sad. Or maybe mad. What’s that about?

  “Can’t say I know an Ernest.” Schwartz shook his head.

  “Well, I’ll let you borrow him when I’m done.”

  “Huh? I don’t think so. I’m purely heterosexual.”

  Juliette burst out laughing and walked over to the small table at the end of her couch. She picked up a book and waggled it in his direction. “Ernest Hemingway. Perhaps you’ve heard of a little story he wrote called A Farewell to Arms?”

  Pete nodded at the book. “That’s your date?”

  “Yes. I love Ernest.”

  “I do, too. Now that I know the competition is a dead man.” Pete turned to leave. “Be sure I’m going to take you out for a drink someday.”

  “Officer, that sounds like a threat.” She grinned.

  “Maybe it is. Maybe it is.” He walked out the door and shut it behind him.

  Juliette flopped on the couch and said to the empty room. “Now what?”

  * * * *

  Pete had a hard time leaving Juliette’s apartment. The terrycloth robe she had on was almost soaked through and he assumed it was because she’d been startled out of the tub. The wetness of the fabric left nothing to
the imagination and he had to adjust his jeans when he looked at her,. That little peek in the bathroom when the robe gaped open didn’t hurt either. She’s curvy but I like that. That one-piece swimsuit she had on earlier today was less provocative than the robe, but wow. Either way, the woman is spectacular.

  Pete walked back to the four-wheeler he'd ridden to the Sands Cottages, the set of one-bedroom beach houses that were built in the 1950s. He tossed his keys in the air and caught them as he whistled his way over to his partner.

  "You're awfully chipper, man. You got it bad for the lassie, don't ye?" Hamish asked.

  "I do. And even more now. I have to get her to go out with me."

  "Better think of something clever. She looks like she may be a hard sell."

  "What makes you say that?" Pete flung one leg over the seat of the four-wheeler and sat astride it.

  Hamish shrugged, "Dunno. She seems like she's a wee bit skittish around the men, is all."

  As he cranked the vehicle, Pete replied, "I'm going to win her, you'll see." He roared off and left Hamish still standing by his own four-wheeler.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Juliette slept in a little later than usual since she had the day off. She lolled around her cottage for while before she dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a pink tank top. As she slid on her flip-flops to walk outside and water her plants, a pounding on the door startled her. I know raccoons don't knock so it can't be my little criminal from last night coming back. She giggled and opened the door.

  Officer Schwartz stood on the stoop dressed in a pair of jeans and a washed out navy blue Rolling Stones T-shirt. He had a bag of plant food of some type at his feet, a DVD in one hand, and a stuffed rabbit in the other hand. He bowed regally. "Good morning, Miss Juliette. I've been to the restaurant and Lou tells me you're off today. I thought I'd come check in on you."

  Juliette nodded at the things he had with him. "What's all this?"

  "You asked me to tell you my first name before you'd go have a drink with me, so I thought these things would help you guess what it is."

  She laughed. "So, you're a bit like Rumpelstiltskin, huh?"

  “What do you mean?”

  “Making me guess your name.”

  “At least I’m not trying to get your first born. At least not today, since I don’t think you and Ernest have any children, do you?” He winked.

  She laughed again. “We don’t indeed. Come on in then and I'll give it a whirl."

  Pete handed her the DVD and rabbit. He bent down and picked up the bag of soil and hoisted it over his shoulder. Good grief, he's got some biceps on him. She pulled her eyes away from his physique with effort, backed away from the door and let him in her apartment.

  Once he followed her in, she sat on the couch and looked at the DVD. "The Pink Panther? Okay? And a toy rabbit. Hmm. What do they have in common with potting soil?" Juliette glanced up at him where he stood with a grin on his face. "I presume that's potting soil?"

  "Sort of." His grin widened.

  She stood up and walked over to the bag he’d placed on the floor. She knelt down beside it and read the label. She giggled. “I get it now.”

  She moved to rise and stumbled a bit. He grabbed her arm to help her to her feet and pulled her toward him. When his arm went around her waist, she leaned in and almost gave in to her need to be held. No. Not going there. That path leads to pain. She straightened quickly and moved a step away.

  The look on his face as she pulled away almost broke her heart. Can he truly be that sad that I moved? Can he really be attracted to me? She shook her head and resolved not to let his abject look lure her in.

  After a missed beat, he said, “So, do you think you figured out my name?”

  “Yes, I think so. The thing is, I’m not sure if it’s Peat, spelled like on that bag of peat moss or Peter as in Peter Rabbit or Peter Sellers.”

  He held his hand out and said, “I’m Pete. Spelled like Peter Rabbit without the r on the end.”

  She reluctantly took his hand and shook it. Her hand tingled as soon as his made contact. “Hello, Peter without the r. Nice to finally meet you.”

  “Can we go out for that drink now?” He squeezed her hand.

  “It’s only nine in the morning. What sane person goes out for a drink at this time of day?” She disengaged her hand from his. She was glad to let go since his mere touch was making her dizzy and lightheaded.

  “Haven’t you ever heard of orange juice? That’s a drink, isn’t it?”

  “I guess we could do that.” She wiped her hand on her shorts and smiled. “Waffle House?”

  “Waffle House it is.”

  “Lead on.” She followed him to the door. To his back, she said, “By the way, are we riding your work bicycle?”

  “Of course not. I can’t use official equipment for my leisure activities.”

  They walked out the door and she bent over double at the vehicle in front of her cottage. She laughed so hard, the tears streamed down her cheeks. When she finally got control of herself, she gasped, “You expect me to ride in that?”

  “Why not? The peat moss did.” He winked.

  “What the heck is that thing?”

  “It’s a 1948 Indian Chief motorcycle with a side car. It’s my perfect baby and it’s a bit insulted by your attitude.”

  “Oh God, the thing actually has feelings?” Juliette laughed again.

  “Yes. It does and it may even throw you out now.” He reached in the sidecar and pulled out a candy red helmet. “Put this on. That way, if she bucks you, your head will at least be protected.”

  Juliette held her hand out for the helmet, took it, and shoved it down over her curls. She stepped over to the motorcycle and patted the side. “Sorry about that. Please don’t throw me off. I’ll be nice.” She glanced over at Pete. “Do you think that worked to appease her?”

  “Maybe so. We’ll have to see.” He held his hand out to her and assisted her into the car. His hand rested lightly on her bottom as she stepped over the fender and into the sidecar. She sucked in a breath. How am I going to resist him when the mere touch of his hand on my butt makes me want to throw myself in his arms?

  Juliette sat down and Pete moved around the bike to the saddle seat. He put on his own helmet—a black one—and cranked the engine. As they roared off and down the beach road, she held on to the sides of the little car.

  Pete drove fast and went right past the Waffle House. Juliette tapped his arm and pointed back to the restaurant. He nodded and kept driving.

  In a few moments, he pulled into a mini market and turned off the motorcycle. He pulled off his helmet and placed it on the seat. “I decided it might be more fun to grab the orange juice to go and take a jaunt down the highway. I love to feel the wind in my face and you looked to be enjoying it, too.”

  “I am. I didn’t think I would, but this is a great way to enjoy the sun and salt air.” Juliette rubbed the side of the fender with the palm of her hand.

  “See, old Bess, I told you that you’d like her.”

  Juliette glanced up sharply. “Did you call me old Bess?”

  Pete laughed. “No. That’s the cycle’s name. I’m going in to get the juice. Do you want anything else?”

  “No. Juice is fine. I’ll hang here with Bess while you get provisions.”

  While he was gone inside, Juliette mulled over their interactions of the morning. He’s so nice and seems to take care of what he loves. This bike is over sixty years old and looks and runs perfect. How much more might he treasure a woman he was involved with? Should I trust him? Do I take a chance or go home with regrets?

  Startled out of her thoughts by Pete tossing a plastic bag in her lap, she jumped a bit.

  “Sorry. Didn’t know you were lost in another dimension.”

  “I’m fine. I was enjoying the day. Several gulls flew over and kept me company while you were in the store.”

  He straddled the bike seat again, his tee shirt pulled at his pe
cs and Juliette held back a sigh at the sight.

  “What, they tried to steal food from you?” Pete asked.

  “No. I don’t have any on me and even if I did, I know better than to feed those guys. They never go away and will even dive bomb you if they think you can be coerced into sharing.”

  He nodded at the bag in her lap. “You have food now.” He cocked his head. “Or I guess it’s a food group.”

  She grinned and peeked in the bag. As soon as she saw what was in it, she gasped. “How did you know?”

  “Can’t tell you.”

  “Why?”

  “You’d think I was a creepy stalker guy.” He put his helmet back on.

  “Tell me. I have to know.”

  “I asked your buddy, Melba, what your favorite snack is.”

  “When?” She peered into the bag again and couldn’t suppress the smile that crept across her lips.

  “A week or so ago. I was planning to try to win you with sinful junk food. Never did I imagine you were so easy and that orange juice was the way to your heart.”

  “Ah, no, mister. These are the way to my heart.” She pulled out a package of Ding-Dongs and started to open them.

  Pete reached out and grabbed the hand that held the package of chocolate goodness. “Really? Your heart?”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s a figure of speech.” She pulled her hand away.

  He grabbed the packet from her hand. “No eating until we get to the place I want to show you. Then we’ll have our decadent breakfast of chocolate and juice.”

  She pretended to pout. “All right. You’re a bully and a tease to let me see them ahead of time, but I’ll wait.”

  “Good, but I’m keeping my eye on you, so don’t try to sneak any.” He cranked the engine and they were off again.

  * * * *

  Pete watched her out of the corner of one eye as he drove them down toward his favorite alcove off the beaten path of the beach. It was a place he’d been going to since high school and was secluded with lots of sand dunes and sea oats in a protected cove. I hope I can get her to open up about why she’s not interested in dating. She’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her. I hope that’s a good sign.