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The apartment wasn’t much, but was the first place Connor had lived alone and didn’t share a bathroom with anyone. It was a feeling he could get used to.
Opening the surf app on his smartphone, he checked the morning’s conditions and found them marginally acceptable. It wouldn’t be until fall before the waves got really good, but they were decent enough today. He tossed a towel, wetsuit, and other gear into a backpack, then grabbed his surfboard and exited the private stairs to the street.
He walked along Crocus Ave, the primary shopping district on the island. Although quiet in the predawn light, it would bustle with activity in an hour or two, once the sun rose and the businesses that catered to the breakfast crowd opened.
As he passed Shore to Please Donuts, he caught the glow of lights and inhaled the sugary scent of donuts and other freshly baked pastries. If he wasn’t having sex, at least he could have donuts. He made a mental note to stop on his way home.
At Sixteenth Street, he turned right and headed toward the ocean. A couple of blocks later, he crossed over Ocean Ave and jogged up the ramp of the boardwalk, hurrying across to the stairs to the beach. Toeing off his shoes, he trekked across the sand until he reached the water’s edge. He inhaled deeply, the scent of salt from the water filling his veins with energy and bringing a smile to his lips.
Tossing his gear on the sand, he tugged on his wetsuit. He grabbed his board, then ran into the water and dove into an oncoming wave. Breaking the surface, he smiled. Life didn’t get any better than this.
Abby O’Connell had woken before dawn—again—after another restless night. With a week left before the grand opening of her soap shop, she had a million things to do and not enough hours in the day. Most nights she crashed in exhaustion after midnight, only to wake after a few hours and stare at the ceiling.
Usually, she woke with new tasks for her growing to-do list. But today the cause of her restlessness came in the form of a green-eyed, six-foot, sandy-haired ghost from her past named Connor Maguire. They’d dated on and off a solid three years after her family moved to Pelican Bay thirteen years ago.
Abby had been ticked when her mom moved them out of Philly, where there was always something to do, to the sleepy beach town.
And right before Abby’s senior year!
Back then, Abby had a lot of attitude and resentment toward everything. When she was four, her dad died from an undetected brain aneurysm that burst. In the blink of an eye, her perfect family had been permanently changed.
Forced to sell their house in Northeast Philly to cover expenses, her mom had moved Abby and her two sisters into a two-bedroom apartment near the hospital off Broad Street in the heart of Philly, where she worked as a nurse.
It wasn’t ideal, but over time they’d adjusted. When the girls got older and no longer needed help from the part-time nanny she hired, her mom switched to working the overnight shift, which left Abby’s older sister, Natalie, in charge of watching them in the evening. Unfortunately, Nat wasn’t the best role model and used to leave Abby in charge of their younger sister, Olivia, while Nat went clubbing.
That stopped when Natalie got knocked up at eighteen. She kept the baby, and while much about their life got complicated, Abby’s nephew, Liam, quickly became the focus of all four O’Connell ladies.
Abby’s mom wanted a better life for all of them…one outside the city. A patient told her about the wonderful times she’d had at Pelican Bay on vacation. Her mom took the family for a day trip, fell in love with the town, and hadn’t looked back.
Which was how Abby found herself in a new town her senior year of high school.
Connor had been the perfect combination of hotness and trouble that Abby had been looking for to rebel against the move. He wasn’t afraid to take chances and lived life to the fullest, from surfing to partying.
After his multiple failed attempts at asking her out during her first week at school, she ran into him on the beach late one day after school, where he’d been surfing. Sitting on the sand, she watched him for a while, admiring the way his long, lean body moved in tune with the waves. When he’d had his fill, he set his board down and dropped into the sand beside her.
“Ever surfed?” he asked.
“Kinda hard when living in a city,” she snapped.
“You’ve never been to the shore before?”
“Of course I have, but I’m more of the lie-out-and-tan type.”
“Right.” He unzipped his wetsuit and peeled it down his chest, revealing a flat stomach with enough muscles to make Abby notice. “I could teach you.”
Abby stared as he brushed the water off his face, the droplets sliding onto his perfect torso. Down, down they slid, past his belly button and beyond. The rush of wanting surprised her. She was no virgin, but the sex with the two boys from her old school hadn’t been memorable or lasted more than a couple of weeks. And after Nat got pregnant, Abby had learned to keep her hormonal urges at bay.
Seeing Connor with his shaggy, beach-blond-streaked hair, smiling eyes, and ripped bod caused those urges to wake up.
“I don’t have a surfboard,” she said, and wiggled her toes in the sand.
“I have one you could borrow.”
She shrugged in response.
He leaned forward, and for a quick second Abby thought—and kinda hoped—he was going to kiss her. “I’m here the same time most evenings, if you’re interested.” He gave her a sexy grin before standing and picking up his board. “See you around, Abby.”
He walked away, the backside of him as perfect as the front.
