Early Saturday morning found Mila in her favorite place on earth—on top of a wave. She liked to hit the surf early, when it was just her and a handful of other serious surfers. About half a dozen were out this morning, all of whom she knew by name. The sky was gray, but the sea was throwing out some big curlers, and she was in her element. She waved to a guy named Tex who’d caught a wave and was cruising past her in to shore, and then she saw her own wave coming. It was a nice way to end her morning. Her whole body felt pleasantly tired, her muscles worked from a good couple of hours of surfing, and so she figured it was time to ride this one right into the beach.
It was a move made with the ease and precision born of years of practice. She jumped to her feet and felt the water rolling beneath her, the board and wave dance partners. She felt the wind against her face as her hair streamed back, and for the millionth time, she thought, This is where I belong. Her mind flashed back to Tessa’s painting of her in this very pose… and to Herschel Greenfield, who’d been staring at the picture when she first saw him.
As she rode in to the beach, she spotted a lone man looking in her direction. He clearly wasn’t a surfer. He was sitting on a jut of rock in jeans and a T-shirt—an outfit that left no doubt as to its owner’s powerful physique. Despite herself, she was intrigued. In her book, there was nothing sexier than a man who respected his body enough to look after it.
Once she’d reached the beach, she realized the man was Herschel Greenfield.
Her heart began to thump a little faster.
Gathering her composure, she unhooked from her surfboard and slid it beneath her arm. Herschel stood and smiled at her. There were two cups of coffee in his hands. Could it be that he really was waiting for her? The thought gave her a thrill.
He came toward her and said, “I bet you would love coffee about now.”
She laughed. “If you’d bought me a bouquet of roses, I couldn’t have been happier.” Still smiling, she accepted the cup and took a sip. Hot and strong—exactly the way she liked her coffee. And her men. Which was why she couldn’t help noticing how Hersch’s muscles bulged beneath his modest white T-shirt. Then she looked at the cardboard cup and realized it was from her favorite coffee shop in Carmel. She paused, one hand now resting on her board and the other grasping the coffee. She said, “How on earth did you know my favorite coffee shop and exactly how I like my coffee?”
He looked a little sheepish. “I’m a scientist. I’m excellent at research.” At this, she merely raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Jay Malone called me about that movie he wants to make.”
She was so surprised her mouth dropped open. “Damn, that guy never gives up, does he?”
Hersch shrugged. He didn’t seem too put out. Maybe he was more relaxed about all this than she’d first thought. Or, more likely, he was just a nice guy who wasn’t used to shutting people down.
“When I got the call, I figured it was an opportunity to do a little research about you. Jay told me I’d find you here early in the morning every day the surf was good. He said you and your sister have a standing coffee date at Saint Anna’s coffee shop, and so I called them. They know your order as well as you do.” He raised his coffee cup in a salute. “And here I am.”
She couldn’t believe he’d gone to all that trouble rather than call her. It was adorable.
She thanked him, and they went to sit on a rocky ledge. She couldn’t help but notice that his left thigh was almost touching her right one. As she sipped her coffee, she sighed with pleasure. “I love Saturdays.”
He chuckled. “Why Saturdays in particular?”
“First, if it’s a bright morning like today and the surf is rocking, it already puts me in a good mood for the rest of the day. There’s nothing like the feeling of you and the waves, working together. No other human beings. Just the elements. And then on Saturday afternoons, I get my social fix when I teach surfing to beginners. It’s so much fun. I’ve got a whole van full of wetsuits and boards, and I teach kids and adults who’ve never surfed before.” She sighed happily. “It’s such a privilege to share the sport I love with people who are just starting out.”
She turned to watch his reaction, but he merely nodded in a noncommittal way and then sipped his coffee. She wondered why he was here. Was it because he wanted her help buying a house? Trying surfing? Or something more than that…
Her usual self would have just asked outright, blunt and confident—like, why would she care, anyway? But she didn’t feel her usual self around Hersch. She felt a weird combination of mellow and electric. If she was honest with herself, it was intoxicating.
She gestured toward the beautiful ocean, which was glistening in the morning sun that was growing stronger now. She couldn’t lose her edge completely, so she asked, “Would you like to put on a wetsuit and get out there?”
Beneath his moustache, his mouth tightened. He shook his head briefly. “No, thanks.” He paused, and then his mouth softened again. “Thank you for the offer, though.”
She nodded in what she hoped was an understanding way. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened to you last year, would it?”
He turned to her fully now, and as he twisted, she saw the tightness of his chest and arm muscles through his T-shirt. She was suddenly aware of her own body in the wetsuit, still pleasantly damp and aching from exercise. And maybe something else too. He looked into her eyes, and there was such warmth in that blue-gray color that she was momentarily taken aback.
“I don’t know what it is about you,” he said, looking suddenly serious, “but unlike your friend Jay, I feel I can trust you.”
If he’d done enough research to find out how she liked her coffee, no doubt he knew all about her accident. A simple Google search would take care of that.
“You can,” she said, meaning it.
“My not wanting to surf has everything to do with what happened last year. I look at the ocean, and I just can’t stand it. I feel…” He trailed off.
In the gentlest way she could, she said, “You don’t have to explain. There’s no pressure. But just so you know, I’m here every Saturday. I’m sure I’ve got a suit that would fit you.” She allowed herself another brief look at his taut body. “If you ever have the urge to try, come to my class. We’ll ease you in slowly. I promise that once you’re in, you’ll learn to love the ocean again.”
Hersch didn’t look convinced, but he smiled anyway, his teeth brilliant white. He thanked her and then said, “I didn’t actually track you down to learn how to surf. I’ve decided to hire you as my Realtor. Jay says you’re one of the best in town. And I prefer to talk face to face, not on the phone.” Then he grinned. For a man whose face was normally solemn and slightly nerdy, such a wide smile transformed him into a charming man. Her heartbeat sped up, and, embarrassingly, she was aware of a slight flush coming to her cheeks.
He continued, “I’ve been searching online for houses, but to be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can fix a spaceship in orbit, but finding the right house for me is more complicated.”
She laughed. “You came to the right place. I’m excellent at what I do.”
“I just need someone to guide me so I don’t buy one that’s one storm away from the roof blowing off. Or, I don’t know, sitting on a swamp or something. I figure that’s where you come in. From what Jay says, you know this area better than anyone. You know the neighborhoods. You know the houses. I want to hire you.”
Obviously, Mila was more than happy to be Herschel Greenfield’s Realtor. She agreed to work with him, secretly a little thrilled to get to spend more time with this sexy, intriguing man. In fact, she couldn’t think of the last time she’d met a man who’d intrigued her quite so much. He wasn’t the best-looking guy she’d ever met, and certainly his sexy banter left something to be desired, but she felt that they’d connected on a deep level over their shared ocean-related traumas.
“I can do a proper survey for you, obviously, when I’m not wearing a wetsuit and have my computer with me. But give me a quick rundown. What are you looking for?”
“First of all, I want to move quickly. That’s a priority. I’m looking for something with space and privacy. At least three bedrooms, a garage, and I’d like a home gym.”
It wasn’t the huge list of demands she was used to from other high-profile clients, but it wasn’t nothing either. “Price range?”
He shrugged. “From looking at properties online, I know I can’t afford the waterfront homes the movie stars are buying, not that I’d want them…” Here, he allowed himself a wry smile. “But most of the other homes are within my budget. It’s more about finding the right quiet spot.”
He emphasized the word quiet, and her interest grew. Was Hersch trying to hide out here in Carmel? Why the focus on privacy? Sure, he was a public figure, but it wasn’t like he was hunted by the press like Damien or Arch.
“Cool,” she replied, mentally flicking through her mental file of all the houses currently for sale. She knew the market inside and out, and it didn’t take long before she snapped her fingers and shot Hersch her best winning smile. “I actually know of one that isn’t even listed yet. The owner came into the office Friday and had a meeting with me, so it’s at the very beginning stages. I think it could be perfect for you. They’ve already bought their new home, and they also want to move fast. It’s not a waterfront home, but you can see the beach and the ocean from the back bedroom windows, and—”
She stopped speaking as Hersch visibly shuddered. She kicked herself. Her excitement had gotten the better of her, and she’d already made a blunder.
He shook his head. “No view of the ocean. I don’t want to see the ocean—I don’t want to hear it—I don’t want to smell it.”
She looked at him, understanding. but the fact was, there was no getting away from his bizarre decision. “And you’re moving to Carmel-by-the-Sea?” She wasn’t at all sure she should be wasting her time with a client who wanted to move to a seaside community but not be near the ocean.
She was hoping he might grin again, but Hersch’s face remained serious. “I know it probably sounds crazy. But it’s near enough to the space program that I can commute fairly easily on the days when they need me onsite. I just feel drawn here somehow. I can’t explain it.”
“Did you close your eyes and put your finger on the map, and it landed on Carmel?”
Now he did laugh. “Not exactly. I remembered visiting here on vacation and really loving the area.” He paused and looked around them at the beach, which had grown busier since they’d sat down. There was a pleasant breeze, and dogs yipped as they happily chased balls and Frisbees across the sand. Mila thought of the family dog, Buster, who loved to roll in the sand, and smiled.
Hersch continued, his voice quieter now, “And maybe my subconscious knows that if I don’t at least go somewhere with an ocean nearby, then I’m basically giving up and throwing in the towel on my career.”
In that instant, Mila realized just how deeply their common bond ran. It had taken every ounce of the strength she’d had left to get back on that surfboard after her accident, but there hadn’t been a single moment where it had crossed her mind that she wouldn’t. Mila hadn’t been physically able to continue the career she loved so much, but if Hersch could save his, well, then, she’d have to find a way to help him.
She touched his arm. The movement was brief, but it sent a thrum of longing through her fingertips. She said, “I have to tell you, Carmel is a really special place. Your instincts didn’t lie.” She thought a little more, trying to engage the practical and professional side of her brain. “You might like Carmel Heights. It’s nearby, but set back from the ocean. You’ll also get more house and more land for your money because, as you can imagine, most people want proximity to the ocean and the sea views.”
Hersch looked pleased. “I think Carmel Heights could be good, from what I’ve seen online. And yeah, plenty of land would be fantastic. I like my privacy. And did I mention a two-car garage?”
A stray piece of dried seaweed tumbled by on the sand. He had mentioned that, and three bedrooms. “So you’re looking for a family home,” she said. Why had she assumed he was single? Probably from the way he looked at her, but plenty of married guys did that. Still, she was a little disappointed.
Quickly, he said, “Oh, no, I’m single. I just like a lot of space around me. And I want the room for a home office and a home gym. I work out a lot.”
She was surprised by the relief she felt. And she could completely understand the need for a home gym. His muscles bulged under his T-shirt, and his arm had felt so solid and so strong when she’d touched it. She found herself wondering what his body looked like beneath his unassuming clothes. Ripped, no doubt, and perfectly toned. He’d be able to pick her up with one hand. And maybe she would let him…
She realized he was staring at her, waiting for her to say something. She swallowed hard. She had to stop imagining him naked and her licking every inch of his body. What was wrong with her?
Getting a grip on herself, she asked, “Pool?” And then immediately regretted it. Of course he didn’t want a pool. She was trying so hard to stop thinking about how sexy he was and how she’d like to lean right over now and kiss him that she’d momentarily forgotten the man had issues with water. “Sorry,” she said. “Forget I ever said that.”
Trying to be as professional as she could, considering that she was still in a wetsuit with salt water caking her blonde hair, she said, “You and I should have a proper meeting and really drill down to what you’re looking for, and I’ll show you all the available properties. I’m going to make you my top priority.”
“I appreciate it.” He grinned at her again, and she felt as though she’d won the lottery getting that smile.
And then, unable to stop herself, she said, “You know you’re really missing out by not learning to surf. We only begin in the shallowest water. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.”
He shook his head and, all of a sudden, seemed to withdraw into himself. Politely, he said, “Thank you, but I cannot imagine myself on a surfboard.”
His response was stiff and formal, nothing like the ease with which they’d been talking before. She cursed herself. Here she was all mad at Jay for pushing in and overwhelming Hersch, and then she went and did the very same thing. She promised herself she’d keep cool about it and not keep pushing him. But even as she made the promise, she knew it would be hard to keep. She liked things to go her way. If he could just get comfortable on a surfboard in shallow water, he could begin getting over his trauma. She knew that because she’d done it herself.
Right now, however, his whole body was saying, No, no, and no. So she swiftly transitioned back to their conversation about real estate and said, “I’ll head into the office for a couple of hours before I start teaching this afternoon. I’ll see what I can find for you.”
“I really appreciate that. That fellow Jay wasn’t wrong.”
How annoying to owe Jay one. She stood, and Hersch rose at the same time. She lifted her nearly empty paper cup. “Thanks for the coffee. It was perfect.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll let you know if I find anything this afternoon.”