shirt. He hadn't bothered to shave since he arrived, and his heavy beard filled in quickly. With a grin she thought he must have been a pirate in another life, all dark and swarthy.
She bent to undo the tether around her ankle and pulled off the wetsuit. When she looked for him again, she couldn’t spot him, her eyes scanning the beach. Then she saw he’d stopped to talk with the three young guys who had chatted her up days ago. They’d set up a camp complete with a small tent at the back edge of the beach. The conversation seemed lively, all of them laughing. Curious, Tess picked up her things and started toward them. But the group broke up before she got there, Sam turning and coming on to meet her.
“So, what was that about?” she asked.
“What?” he took her board under one arm, putting the other around her waist.
“You and the surfer dudes. It looked like an unlikely conversation.”
“Oh, they’re just impressed as hell that an old guy like me hooked up with the little blond hottie and wanted to know my secret. You know they were eyeing you themselves.”
“Really?” she looked back over her shoulder. “Gosh, maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty in my choice. The long-haired one is kinda cute.”
Sam shrugged. “Naw, you need a guy with more experience. When I told him what really gets you going, he was all goggle-eyed.”
She gave him a mocking little gasp of horror. “I thought all my secrets were safe with you.”
He laughed. “And I’ll take them to my grave. No, Toughie, we were just conducting a little business.”
“Business?”
Sam nodded. “You know if we want to catch the sunset, we’d better drop this junk off at the suite and haul ass.”
“What business?” She couldn’t imagine what he was talking about.
“Later.” They’d reached the path to their building. “First let’s get up to the point. It’s going to be a pretty night.”
The last of the deep purple streaks were fading, the sky nearly dark when they got back. “You want Jo-Jo’s again tonight?” she asked as he went to the kitchenette and dug around in a cupboard, coming up with a book of matches.
“Yeah, that’s fine. You got the number?”
“In my cell phone.” She went toward the bedroom to get it.
“Come out to the deck when you’re done,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the door.
“What do you want?” she called after him.
“It doesn’t matter. Just order a lot. A whole lot.” She glanced back at him in surprise. He usually ate a light dinner.
When she walked out on the deck a few minutes later, he was sitting in the dark, busy with something in his hands. “What a fabulous sky,” she sighed. It was a clear night, and she pulled her cardigan tighter around her bikini top, looking up and calculating the best way to shoot it.
“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever been out so far from city lights before. I never knew stars got that bright.” But he didn’t seem to be paying them much attention as he fumbled with something and muttered, “Damn it,” over the soft rustling of paper.
“What are you doing?” She squinted, trying to see.
“Trying to remember a lost art,” he said, and as she stepped closer, she saw the cellophane bag on the table next to him, and the thin white paper between his fingers.
“Oh my God, are you rolling a doobie?”
He sighed. “Well, I always just called them joints, and I used to be an expert. But it’s been over 15 years. I think I’ve lost my edge.”
“This was the ‘business’ you had with the surfers?”
He grinned up at her. “I always was pretty good at spotting a likely place to buy. And even this,” he paused and licked the tiny lip of paper sticking up from a slim and fairly straight roll, “seems to be coming back to me. Not bad, considering the last time I did it was the night of my graduation from Columbia. Let’s spark this sucker up.”
She laughed. “Sam Waterman, you smoked weed in
She bent to undo the tether around her ankle and pulled off the wetsuit. When she looked for him again, she couldn’t spot him, her eyes scanning the beach. Then she saw he’d stopped to talk with the three young guys who had chatted her up days ago. They’d set up a camp complete with a small tent at the back edge of the beach. The conversation seemed lively, all of them laughing. Curious, Tess picked up her things and started toward them. But the group broke up before she got there, Sam turning and coming on to meet her.
“So, what was that about?” she asked.
“What?” he took her board under one arm, putting the other around her waist.
“You and the surfer dudes. It looked like an unlikely conversation.”
“Oh, they’re just impressed as hell that an old guy like me hooked up with the little blond hottie and wanted to know my secret. You know they were eyeing you themselves.”
“Really?” she looked back over her shoulder. “Gosh, maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty in my choice. The long-haired one is kinda cute.”
Sam shrugged. “Naw, you need a guy with more experience. When I told him what really gets you going, he was all goggle-eyed.”
She gave him a mocking little gasp of horror. “I thought all my secrets were safe with you.”
He laughed. “And I’ll take them to my grave. No, Toughie, we were just conducting a little business.”
“Business?”
Sam nodded. “You know if we want to catch the sunset, we’d better drop this junk off at the suite and haul ass.”
“What business?” She couldn’t imagine what he was talking about.
“Later.” They’d reached the path to their building. “First let’s get up to the point. It’s going to be a pretty night.”
The last of the deep purple streaks were fading, the sky nearly dark when they got back. “You want Jo-Jo’s again tonight?” she asked as he went to the kitchenette and dug around in a cupboard, coming up with a book of matches.
“Yeah, that’s fine. You got the number?”
“In my cell phone.” She went toward the bedroom to get it.
“Come out to the deck when you’re done,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the door.
“What do you want?” she called after him.
“It doesn’t matter. Just order a lot. A whole lot.” She glanced back at him in surprise. He usually ate a light dinner.
When she walked out on the deck a few minutes later, he was sitting in the dark, busy with something in his hands. “What a fabulous sky,” she sighed. It was a clear night, and she pulled her cardigan tighter around her bikini top, looking up and calculating the best way to shoot it.
“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever been out so far from city lights before. I never knew stars got that bright.” But he didn’t seem to be paying them much attention as he fumbled with something and muttered, “Damn it,” over the soft rustling of paper.
“What are you doing?” She squinted, trying to see.
“Trying to remember a lost art,” he said, and as she stepped closer, she saw the cellophane bag on the table next to him, and the thin white paper between his fingers.
“Oh my God, are you rolling a doobie?”
He sighed. “Well, I always just called them joints, and I used to be an expert. But it’s been over 15 years. I think I’ve lost my edge.”
“This was the ‘business’ you had with the surfers?”
He grinned up at her. “I always was pretty good at spotting a likely place to buy. And even this,” he paused and licked the tiny lip of paper sticking up from a slim and fairly straight roll, “seems to be coming back to me. Not bad, considering the last time I did it was the night of my graduation from Columbia. Let’s spark this sucker up.”
She laughed. “Sam Waterman, you smoked weed in
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