Making Waves: A Perfect Kisses Novella by Ophelia London Page A

hit the sand. “Better make it quick. He’s been waiting a helluva long time.”
    “Out there? For how long?” The waves seemed to be getting bigger and the wind was really picking up. Did he seriously expect her to swim out there…alone? “Tell him to come in. He’s tired.”
    “I’m sure he’s blown as hell,” Anton said, then pointed toward the horizon. “And a storm’s coming. Only gonna get rougher.”
    Justine cupped her hands. “Will! I want to talk to you, please. Come in!”
    Over the wind, she heard him answer with a faint, “No.”
    Anton’s group all burst into laughter. Justine ignored them, they were no help.
    “Dammit,” she muttered, keeping her eyes fixed on Will’s body in the water.
    “Justine…” He waved an arm over his head.
    The sound of his voice calling her name pierced something inside. Suddenly, every drop of fear evaporated from her body. Replacing it, her muscles tightened like she was blocked to run the 100-meter dash. At the same time, calmness and purpose flooded her soul.
    No, Will wasn’t in danger—she felt that. But she also knew she wanted to get to him, no matter what her fears might have been. She had to be exactly where he was so she could explain what happened and tell him how sorry she was…about everything.
    Without thinking, she rotated around, cocked her arm, and threw her purse and notebook as far up the beach as she could. Then she kicked off her flip-flops and pulled her dress over her head, ignoring the gasps of Anton and his crew.
    “Will!” she called. “I’m coming!” In only her pink bra and panties, Justine ran straight into the water, leaping over the first wave, then diving headfirst into the second. The ocean was much colder than the day before, but she didn’t care.
    When she broke the surface, she zeroed in on his location, on the dark hair she could barely make out through the salt stinging her eyes.
    Then she started swimming.
    “Justine!” His voice strengthened her strokes, making her legs kick harder to get there. Ten feet away. She could make out the color of his eyes, that gorgeous, cocky smile on his face.
    “Will.” Only a few strokes away.
    He was swimming toward her now, and right before they were about to knock heads, his arm hooked around her, stopping her momentum. He laughed and pulled her against his chest. “I knew you would do it.”
    She hugged him back, so tightly, a thousand words of apology burning her tongue, but she needed to hold him first. Just hold him.
    “Will,” she panted, still holding on. “I’m so—”
    But she didn’t get to finish. He kissed her. And she kissed him back, exhaling his name every time she took in fresh oxygen. Waves crashed around them and she felt Will’s legs kick with hers as they tread water together, their heads barely staying above the surface.
    He held her face, keeping his mouth pressed to hers in intermittent bursts of kissing and coming up for air. Despite the rain and sea, tears of relief built behind her eyes. A few moments later, her feet touched the bottom. Will’s arms tightened around her as they stood, the rough waves knocking against their bodies, unmovable together.
    “Justine,” he said, breaking their kiss. “I’m sorry.”
    “No.” She gasped for air. “ I’m sorry.” She clutched his strong shoulders just like when he’d taken her out in the water the first time, clinging to him. “I sent the wrong story. I’d never hurt you or your mother. Please believe me.”
    “I do,” he said, a laugh in his voice.
    “Will.” She splashed him. “You idiot . What the hell were you doing out there? They said you’re having a press conference.”
    He laughed again and pinched her chin. “I called your editor and told him that. Well, my mother did, pretending to be my publicist.”
    “What?” This was getting more and more bizarre. “Your mother…” She wiped her face. “Is she okay?”
    “She’s okay, Juss—a lot stronger than me, it turns