Surfs Up For Love – by ey Kassian #2
“Sunny. As in the Sunny? The beach bunny of surfing?”
“Uh, I guess?” Bree shrugged, unsure how to respond to the awe in his voice. “She’s always been Granny to me.”
He uttered a low whistle, his gaze returning to the board. “This thing’s a piece of history. It must be worth a fortune. Your grandmother was a great surfer—a legend. This board should be in a museum. Unless…” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re in the market to sell it?”
Bree chuckled nervously. “I should be, considering its weight. But no. Granny wouldn’t like that. And my brother thinks it belongs in his man cave.”
He smirked. “Why?”
“Because I made a bet with him. If I can’t ride it by the end of summer, I have to give him the board.”
After leaning the surfboard against the counter, he crossed his arms, a playful smile tugging at his lips. That lopsided grin somehow made him even more attractive. “Let me get this straight, Sunny’s granddaughter doesn’t know how to surf?”
“Nope.” Bree squared her shoulders, trying not to let his teasing get to her. “That’s why I need lessons. Can anyone here teach me?” She bit her lip, hoping. “Maybe you?”
He studied her for a moment, his smile softening. “I don’t teach.”
Bree’s cheeks blossomed while observing his stance. “That’s surprising coming from an employee in a surf shop.”
Frowning, he stood taller. “It’s been a while since I caught a wave.”
Bree tilted her head, curiosity flickering. “You’ve surfed before?”
His jaw tightened. “Yeah.”
“Why not teach me the basics. After that, I’ll find someone else.”
He hesitated, glancing at the board again. “I should make an exception for Sunny’s granddaughter, but I’m not the right person for this lesson.”
Bree stepped closer, clasped her hands, and pursed her lips in appeal. “Please? I need to get started.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly wavering. “What’s your name?”
“Bree.”
“Bree…” He said her name while assessing her. “Benzai Surf School is down the street. I’m sure they’ll help.”
She clasped his shoulder lightly, her eyes wide and hopeful. “That’s inconvenient. I’m here, you’re here—I have a feeling we’re the perfect fit.”
A blush rose to her cheeks, heating her face. Why had she said that?
He sighed, the corners of his mouth lifting. “All right, on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Sell me the board.”
Bree shook her head. “I can’t.”
He gestured toward a bored-looking employee leaning against the wetsuit racks. “Bob has training. Or there’s always that surf school?—”
Bree sighed, grabbing her board. “Granny, why did you send me here?” she muttered under her breath. She made it halfway to the door before she heard his voice.
“Wait!”
Her heart leapt into her throat as she turned. “Why should I?”
California boy stepped toward her. “Sunny sent you?”
“I’m not sure why. The employees here give terrible customer service.”
He huffed, shaking his head. Then that sexy guy smirked and said, “You’re pushing your luck, you know that? All right, I’ll take the bait. Let’s see if you have that Sunny vibe.”
Relief and excitement bubbled in Bree’s chest. “Really? You’ll teach me?”
“Yeah. But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
Bree grinned. “Deal. Might be helpful to know your name, though.”
“Jaxon,” he said, extending his hand as he walked toward her.
She took it, warmth rippling through her at the contact. “Nice to meet you. Let’s make this summer unforgettable.”
The surf lessons worried Jaxon. Why had he agreed to help—whether the nostalgia tied to Sunny’s legendary surfboard motivated him, or the way Bree’s beach-blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, or the fact she didn’t seem to know his identity. That last part was refreshing.
As he followed her from the shop, carrying her grandmother’s surfboard like a clerk attending to a customer’s groceries, he found himself glancing at her.
A slim woman in a carefree cotton shirt tied at the waist and cutoff shorts.
Her movements were purposeful and graceful, and her light, nervous laughter lingered in the air between them.
His gaze drifted lower, to sweet cheeks adorned with denim strings and well-shaped legs.
Shame on him. What are you doing, Ryder?
She’s a student; don’t get distracted by a sweet face and a hot figure.
Yet he couldn’t help himself.
“Give me your phone number,” he said, sliding the surfboard into the yellow Beetle’s open roof.
“Hand over your phone, and I’ll add it.”
Jax pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it through the open window without hesitation.
He didn’t think twice—until she smiled. Sweet Bree, she smiled as though he’d handed her a treasure, her expression warm and disarming.
No one had looked at him like that since a pack of beach bunnies had trailed him across the sand.
While their attention had been flattering, their pursuit had distracted him—he’d only wanted to focus on catching his next wave.
She entered her number and returned his phone. “Thanks for agreeing to this,” she said, her hand resting lightly on the steering wheel.
He leaned against the car. “When should I book the first lesson?”
She tapped the steering wheel. “Tomorrow? Or is that too soon?”
“Tomorrow, then. 1:00 p.m. near the pier.”
“What about the surfboard?”
Jax shrugged. It was old. Someone could get hurt riding that sea treasure. “Leave it at home. It belongs in a museum rather than the ocean. Wear comfortable clothing. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Drive carefully,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity as he stepped away from the car. “Keep that board safe. It’s worth more than your Beetle.”
She flashed him a placating smile, her cheeks flushed from the sun. Jaxon watched her leave the lot, the Beetle’s engine buzzing like a contented bee as it disappeared into the street. For a moment, he felt like he’d been pulled into a surreal scene from an old surf movie: Gidget meets Moondoggie…
Then reality crept in—his past. Why had he agreed to this?
He rubbed his sweaty palms against his pants, frustration brewing in his chest. The board hadn’t motivated him, not really.
Sure, Sunny’s name had stimulated memories—surf competitions and celebrity perks he’d buried in his thoughts—but his past had nothing to do with saying yes. Or did it?
No, it was Bree.
He’d been attracted to her from the start—her boho charm and the vulnerability beneath her bravado.
And maybe, just maybe, it was the way she looked at him, like he was a random guy in a surf shop, not a former surfing champion with a messy history to unpack.
His celebrity persona seemed irrelevant, and for once, that freed him to be himself.
Jaxon exhaled and ran a hand through his hair.
He’d convinced himself his surfing days were over.
But thanks to Bree, he planned to give lessons—a commitment that had him clenching his teeth.
He’d keep it simple, teach from the shoreline, and if forced to enter the water, stay near the shore.
Teach her to paddle, maybe stand, and leave it at that.
No need to dive deep—into surfing or the beach babe that charmed him.
“Damn it,” he muttered, shaking his head. He had a feeling this lesson would complicate matters, maybe his heart too.
Beachgoers crowded Huntington Beach, their chatter blending with the breathy rhythm of the ocean.
Bree weaved among families, children, and playboy types, a beach bag slung over her shoulder, sandals clutched in her hand, trudging through the soft sand as she scanned the shoreline for the man she’d dreamt about last night—Jaxon.
She wished they were sharing a first date, not the outcome of a bet. But regardless of the motive, she thanked her brother for the opportunity. It led to Jaxon, and she wanted plenty of time with him.
But the work remained, and her focus drifted to the ocean.
Could she accomplish this feat? The sun glinted off the water, waves rolling in steady sets, tempting surfers to test their skill.
Could she ride with them? Her gaze lingered on a group floating beyond the break, most wearing wetsuits, poised for the perfect swell.
She nibbled her lip, tension causing her head to ache, until she spotted him near two surfboards.
Taking a steadying breath, she approached. “Hi.”
Jaxon glanced up, the breeze catching his golden hair, and Bree’s heart gave an unexpected flutter. Dressed in an ice-blue Rip Curl t-shirt and cobalt board shorts, he looked every inch the quintessential surfer. When his gaze met hers, she pondered the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
“Hey, you’re on time,” he said, flashing her an easy grin.
Bree dropped onto the sand near him, brushing strands of hair from her face. “I didn’t want to be late for my first lesson.”
“Good attitude,” he said, his grin widening as he knelt beside the orange surfboard. He grabbed a coiled leash and began attaching it to the board’s tail, his movements deliberate.
“This is a great ride, perfect for a beginner,” Jaxon said, threading the leash cord through a plug and securing it tightly.
She eyed the brightly colored board, her brow lifting. “No one will miss me on that.”
His laugh was soft but warm. “That’s the point. Plus, it’s a nod to Sunny and her surfing legacy.”
“How thoughtful,” she said, surprised by his consideration.
“I’m a thoughtful guy,” he teased, giving the leash a final tug to check the knot. He held it up for her to inspect. “Ready to claim your ride?”
She gave him a half-smile, though her nerves were on edge. “So, are we doing this?”
“Only one way to know,” Jaxon said, standing and patting the board. “First step: lie down on the board.”
“Sounds easy enough.” Bree brushed the sand off her legs and positioned herself on the board as instructed.
“Almost,” Jaxon said, his voice low and calm while kneeling beside her. “Move back a little. You’re too far forward.”