Beach Day with Brody

1. NAOMI

Naomi James stepped onto the private beach, sighing deeply.

“Well,” she said to the ocean, “here I am. It’s just you and me for the next two weeks. Bliss.”

The morning sun cast a warm yellow glow on the pristine sand. Naomi scanned the shore, taking in the seaweed and seashells scattered around. She had come here to survey the marine species, to ensure that nothing was amiss in this area of outstanding natural beauty. By the looks of it, everything here was thriving.

She put down her bags of heavy equipment, then adjusted her ponytail, rolled up her sleeves, and began meticulously setting up her workstation. As she prepared her sample containers, she hummed a happy tune.

“Alright,” she murmured at last. “Let’s see what we can find today.”

Naomi began to collect samples from the beach, using tweezers to pick up even the smallest pieces of seaweed without disturbing the surrounding area. With each item she collected, she made detailed notes in her logbook, noting its location, color, and any other distinguishing features.

Though she was aware of the idyllic beauty around her, she couldn’t afford to be distracted by it. The success of her survey depended on her unwavering attention to detail.

“Interesting,” she murmured, holding a piece of seaweed up to the light, examining its texture. “Definitely not something I’ve seen before.”

Her brow furrowed as she jotted down more notes, completely absorbed in her work.

And then she heard a loud bark.

Naomi turned around to see a scruffy red-haired dog, bounding across the beach. She sat up straight, her gaze darting to a nearby signpost. The sign displayed “Rules of the Beach.” Growing up with a conservative pastor for a father had ingrained in her the importance of following rules and maintaining order.

“Naomi,” she muttered to herself, “you need to learn to loosen up a bit. It’s just a dog.”

But the dog was barking so loudly it was off-putting. Even worse than that, it was running around in wild circles that sprayed sand in every direction, disrupting her work.

Naomi frowned, glancing back at the sign.

NO DOGS.

NO ALCOHOL.

NO FIRES.

NO GLASS CONTAINERS.

NO OVERNIGHT CAMPING.

NO SURFING.

She reached into her science kit for one of her plastic cable ties. Normally, she used these to bundle samples together. But right now, she had another use for them.

With a groan of irritation, she approached the dog, who looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “Sorry, buddy, but you’re not supposed to be here. It’s against the rules.”

Naomi fastened the cable tie around the dog’s collar and secured it to the “Beach Rules” signpost.

The dog whined softly, tugging at its makeshift leash.

“Sorry, pup,” she said, her heart sinking at the sight of the dog’s forlorn expression. “But rules are rules.”

She returned to her survey equipment, feeling a pang of guilt, even though she knew she was only following regulations. She shook her head, trying to refocus on her task at hand.

“Concentrate, Naomi. You have important work to do,” she reminded herself, picking up her sample kit again.

As she worked, the dog continued to bark and whine, but at least it couldn’t kick sand all over her work area now. She tried to forget about the noises it was making, promising herself that she’d call the mayor later on to let him know there was a stray dog on the beach that needed taking somewhere, anywhere, that dogs were allowed.

Luckily, Mayor Cooper was very friendly. In fact, he was the one who had employed her to undertake this work.

At first, she’d been nervous about traveling so far from home. She lived with her father in Houston, Texas, and the farthest she’d ever been before this was the Gulf of Mexico, which she traveled to every now and then to collect water samples.

She’d spent a while researching this job in Little Rock before taking it, and had been shocked to see that the small town in Oregon was a thriving DDlg community.

Naomi had read about Daddy Doms and Littles a few years ago, and had always wondered if she herself might be a Little. Her very traditional family meant she had no time at all to explore her Little side, so she was excited about this job on several counts. Number one, she loved doing important marine work. Number two, it would be exciting to live on her own, without her dad, for two whole weeks. And finally, she was going to try her best to let out her inner Little.

Finally, despite the dog’s barks, Naomi lost herself in the rhythm of her work.

And then she heard a loud shout.

“Fuck, yeah!”

It was a deep voice, coming from the direction of the ocean. What the heck? She looked up to see a figure on a surfboard. He had sun-bleached hair, and he was topless and extremely muscular, riding toward the shore.

“Are you kidding me?” grumbled Naomi. “What is this, National Break the Rules Day?”

A sudden splash of cold water sprayed across Naomi and all her carefully arranged samples.

“Hey,” said the surfer, coming to shore, dragging his board across her sample area, completely disrupting all the work she’d done so far today. He flashed her a grin. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Naomi frowned. Her hands trembled as she tried to salvage her samples, the waterlogged containers and scattered specimens making her frustration boil inside her. “It was,“ she said through gritted teeth, “until you came along ruining all my work. Not to mention breaking the beach rules.”

The surfer raised his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said gruffly, stroking his wet, shaggy hair out of his eyes.

Naomi noticed the man’s speech was slightly slurred. Drunk and surfing? At this time in the morning? Unbelievable.

She opened her mouth, trying to think of something sarcastic to say. She was momentarily distracted, though, by the sight of his toned body, glistening with saltwater and sunshine. She’d had a sheltered upbringing, and had never seen a topless man up close like this before. It was strangely arousing.

Pull yourself together, Naomi, she told herself. He’s a bad man. He broke the rules.

“You’re not meant to surf on this beach,” she said haughtily.

The man stared at her, his blue eyes twinkling, and then he reached into the back pocket of his board shorts and pulled out a bottle of beer.

“You’re joking, right?” said Naomi, standing up, feeling her hairs stand on end with irritation. “That’s two more rules you’re breaking right there. Alcohol, and in a glass bottle. Plus, it’s not even midday yet, and you’re drinking already? Do you have a problem, sir? I bet there are some good support groups in the area for people like you. Maybe even a local church—“

“Woah,” said the guy, raising his palms. “You don’t even know me and you’re already judging me. Look, it’s no big deal—this is my private beach. Which brings me to the question: ‘Who are you and what are you doing on my private beach?’”

“My name’s Naomi James,” she huffed, “and I’m a marine biologist. Mayor Cooper employed me to survey the species in the local area for the next two weeks.”

The guy took a swig of his beer, keeping his eyes fixed on her the whole time. Then, slowly, his eyes traveled down the length of her body and back up again. For some reason, that made her shiver.

“Well, Naomi,” he said, “my name’s Brody Walker, and I happen to live here. So we’re going to have to find a way to peacefully coexist while you do your marine survey. Which by the way, I fully support. It’s important to protect the ecosystem around here.”

Naomi scoffed. “Protect it? You’re tearing it up with your surfboard!”

Brody’s jaw tightened. “I hope not.”

“That all depends,” Naomi replied, “if there are coral reefs or seagrass beds here. Plus, depending on the products you use on your surfboard, you could be polluting the water. You may also be disturbing marine mammals, especially if you shout out curse words like that regularly in the water.”

Brody smirked. “Think I’m bad? You should hear the dolphins around here. Real potty mouths.”

Naomi didn’t laugh.

“Look, I’m sorry for disturbing your work,” Brody said, holding up his palms. “And if it’s true about my surfing, well, I guess your report for Mayor Cooper will demonstrate that. Then he can ban me from doing it anymore.”

Naomi pointed to the beach rules sign. “Pretty sure he’s already banned you.”

As Brody looked over at the sign, Naomi found herself looking again at his body. Those chiseled abs and broad shoulders, glistening in the sun. She noticed he had small scars on his torso, and wondered whether they were caused by surfing accidents. Or maybe another disgruntled marine biologist had savaged him with a sample scoop.

“Wait,” said Brody. “Did you tie up my dog?”

Naomi swallowed. “So that’s your dog.”

“Course it is. This is my private beach, remember?”

“Then I guess you’ll know there are no dogs allowed on the beach. See? It’s another rule.”

Brody let out a growl of frustration. “Jesus,” he said. “Some people think they’re so important—“

“I was about to say the same thing,” spat Naomi.

“I’m off to rescue my dog,” said Brody, dragging his surfboard over her work area once more. “Just keep out of my way from now on, okay?”

“I will if you quit breaking the rules!” she yelled after him.

Ugh.

She looked down at her ruined work.

This was going to be a long two weeks.