I rolled my eyes because my grandma loved to try to matchmake. “When exactly did grandpa pass?”
She scoffed. “That Irish fool wasn’t someone to enjoy life with. He passed from the heart attack he had coming for years.”
“So, you’ve lived without someone for a very long time. I can too.”
“No. I had your mother, and I had you.”
Her statement shot through my heart. I couldn’t let her see that, though. “I’ll be fine.”
“A man would be good for you.”
“I don’t think I need to deal with the men in this town. They’re all struggling for power and measuring…” I trailed off.
“Their dicks?” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t know how I ended up where I am but I can tell you. It’s all they’re doing. Try to remember to enjoy the small things. And ignore the big dicks.”
I laughed at her advice and that night, I let one or two tears fall at the idea that I wouldn’t have her to walk with soon.
Our time was running out. I was okay with it. She’d molded me to be. But I’d miss her. I’d miss my carefree life.
The water lulled me to sleep, like I belonged to it. I hoped I always would.
8
Morina
Like the ocean rocking me to sleep, the sun’s warm rays nudged me awake. I watched it rise as I carried my board to the water. I nodded at two of the guys I always met early at the surf. We didn’t talk much. We were there to wake up with the water, not with other humans.
The water washed over me as I dove in. It pushed my wild hair away, naturally smoothing it back the way the wind couldn’t.
The waves approached and I ducked one after the other. Into the breeze, then into the deep. Air and water. Air and water. A rhythm the ocean created or maybe the wind did. The sun warmed us as we took our first wave, and the ocean cooled us as we fell back in before we hit the sand.
The water wasn’t a place I went to think.
It was a place I went to escape and be held hostage at the same time. I needed this. I was addicted to it but it was one of the only places I felt free.
As the air got warmer and warmer, the town came to life and I rode in my last wave.
“You done for the day?” Bradley asked, not that he cared at all other than he wanted me to make him a smoothie soon.
“I’ll get the truck open soon. You can’t be that hungry.” Bradley was about my age and had been a loyal customer since I started working the truck.
“Not like the smoothie is going to curb my appetite anyway.”
“Then go to the cafe down the street.” I knew he wouldn’t.
He scrunched his nose at me. “And deal with the line? Nah.”
I rolled my eyes and rung out my hair as best I could. “You’d wait in line all day for me.”
He eyed me up and down. I was in a bikini and although I could have lost the extra weight on my ass, he stared at it every chance he got.
“You bet I would.” He winked.
I chuckled. We had a good friendship. Comfortable. And when we were both single, we’d indulge every now and then. With a dark full head of hair and a buff body, Bradley was a good amount of fun. The butterflies weren’t there, and I’m sure his heart wasn’t connected to mine in a passionate way, but we scratched one another’s itches when we wanted.
Except this last week, no one could seem to scratch the itch the way a certain man in a jet had. “Give me ten and I’ll have a Pink Princess ready for you.”
“Can you consider changing the name of that?” he yelled after me as I rushed away. I saw a few people idling by the truck, which meant they wanted a morning fix too.
It wasn’t the norm.
I usually had time to open and get dressed in some of the wrinkled clothing I stashed in a ball somewhere in the truck. I waved at a couple of guys I knew, one was a surfer, and then did a double take when I saw a black Rolls Royce idling in the parking lot.
One I’d seen before. One I’d ridden in just a week before.
My stomach flip flopped and a wave of queasiness followed. Not good. Sweating, I avoided the itch to duck down and hide.
As embarrassing as it was to admit, I actually gasped at the sight of both Dante and Bastian exiting their vehicle. Tall, built, and all straight lines in their black suits. Their shoes shone like they were made of diamonds and as my eyes trailed up, their faces didn’t disappoint either.
Both faces I knew.
Both faces I thought I’d never see again.
Bastian smiled like he’d heard my gasp. My mouth snapped shut.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes but not before witnessing how when he smiled it didn’t really meet his eyes. Not the way it had that night. His face had held youth and some sort of humor and connection with me on that jet. I’d felt like we belonged in the same universe.
But now, he was devoid of any emotion.
He could have been on Jupiter, light years away with the look he’d plastered on his face. Then his eyes cut away from me and I saw him scan the beach, like he was making mental notes.
My grandmother had always dealt with men like that. She said it was business, and the part of me that was happier being in the dark let it slide.
Those men walking toward my food truck were nothing but bad news. Bad news and a one night stand I wanted to forget.
Instead, he walked toward me, more lethal in the sunlight, like the night had cloaked his danger. He was ready to haunt me in the daylight rather than just my dreams.
As I opened the metal back door into my little sanctuary, I didn’t bother grabbing the ball of clothes in the corner. It was hot enough that I could make smoothies in a bikini anyway. It might be one of the last warm days, even with that chill in the air. The seasons were changing just as my life would be soon.
I threw some strawberries, yogurt, pineapple and ice into the mixer as I leaned back to see who was in the window. My first customer was an older surfer who switched up his drink every other day. “Jonah, what can I get you?”
“What are you making there?”
“The Pink Princess for Bradley. He likes them prissy.”
Jonah chuckled and turned to wink at Bradley who flipped him off. Then he shrugged and nodded toward the mixer. “I guess I like them prissy too. Add another to the blender.”
I dropped in all the ingredients and threw in two bags of my spice. I ground up cinnamon sticks, chia and flax seeds, agave extracted powder and other nutritional additions that added a pop of flavor. After adding a cube of frozen wheatgrass, I pressed the button.
As a longer line formed and I took down more orders, I spotted the suits moving slowly toward my truck, waiting their turn. Both of them scoped out the area like it was for some sort of sale. They’d soon learn this place was priceless, owned only by the water and the land. The seagulls may have had a few pieces of it too.
I handed another Pink Princess to the next customer and grabbed my hanging chalkboard sign as the beautiful men descended upon my food truck.
Suddenly my little window was letting in too much sun.