Read Online Embrace the Night by Caridad Pineiro - Free Book Online
Authors: Caridad Pineiro
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Chapter 1
Zack Taylor sped across the waves, fighting for balance atop the surfboard. Awkward at first, but gaining stability as he adjusted his legs into a wider stance and bent his knees.
He rode the wave as far as he could and then kicked out, sending the board flying in one direction while he sank into the cool water. As he rose to the surface, the familiar pull of the leash registered on his leg and he swam toward the board so he could climb back on.
Grabbing the rails of the board, he slid across the surface, but thumped one edge with his prosthetic leg as he struggled to get on. The surfboard swayed side-to-side with the sudden imbalance before he steadied it.
A little shaky, but it felt awesome to finally be able to go surfing again.
It almost felt like flying , he thought as he paddled out to wait for another set of waves.
Surfing was one of the few things he’d missed when his family had moved from place to place during his dad’s Army service. He had picked up the sport when his dad had been stationed close to the Delaware beaches and he’d kept surfing any time that their latest deployment had been near the ocean.
Even during his tours of duty, he would find a way to surf if a beach was nearby. There was something about the ocean and its vastness with which he identified. Sitting there, in that great aloneness, waiting for just the right wave, suited him.
As an Army brat, he’d been alone for most of his life. Except for family, of course.
It had just been too difficult to make friends and then lose them every time his dad transferred to a different base.
Surfing had gifted him with something else: Patience.
He’d learned it was far better to bide his time to earn a perfect ride then hurry up and wipe out in a bad wave.
When he reached the spot where a few other surfers waited for the next set, he sat up and straddled the board, his legs dangling over the edge. Well, his one leg and three quarters of his left with the durable prosthetic. He floated there, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the wash of the water all around him.
Enjoying life and appreciating just how fragile it could be.
It had taken him a long time to get to this point. To get past the pain and anger at his loss and be thankful that it hadn’t been worse. To be grateful for the path on which he’d been set that had brought him here.
He gazed back toward the shore and to the growing crowd of people on the beach. He could make out his boss and friend Mark Smith and his wife Bridget as Mark hauled the volleyball equipment down to the sand. Following them like baby ducks chasing after their mother were another group of his friends. His work buddy and former Navy Seal Rafe Castillo and his wife Elena. Marine Lieutenant Trevor Mason and Maggie Sullivan, Bridget’s younger sister, visiting again from New York City.
His friends.
It was weird to say that after the many years that he hadn’t had any.
And he knew that chances were that Samantha would be joining them soon.
Lieutenant Commander Samantha Whittaker.
She’d snared his attention the very first time he’d joined Mark and his wife at one of these gatherings and later again at the other parties held by the many veterans who lived along this stretch of the Jersey Shore.
He’d be lying if he said that it had been anything other than a rockin’ hot bod and stunning face that had made him take notice the first time. But it hadn’t taken him long to see past her beauty to the strong and smart woman inside. One who laughed often, but whose gaze was shadowed by pain.
He wondered a lot about what had put the darkness there and what would drive it away.
He also wondered if he’d misread something else in that gaze: Desire.
He thought he’d seen it after the first couple of times that they’d talked. A hesitant half glance and that look that said she maybe wanted more, but was afraid to say so.
Which puzzled him considering the kind of
Zack Taylor sped across the waves, fighting for balance atop the surfboard. Awkward at first, but gaining stability as he adjusted his legs into a wider stance and bent his knees.
He rode the wave as far as he could and then kicked out, sending the board flying in one direction while he sank into the cool water. As he rose to the surface, the familiar pull of the leash registered on his leg and he swam toward the board so he could climb back on.
Grabbing the rails of the board, he slid across the surface, but thumped one edge with his prosthetic leg as he struggled to get on. The surfboard swayed side-to-side with the sudden imbalance before he steadied it.
A little shaky, but it felt awesome to finally be able to go surfing again.
It almost felt like flying , he thought as he paddled out to wait for another set of waves.
Surfing was one of the few things he’d missed when his family had moved from place to place during his dad’s Army service. He had picked up the sport when his dad had been stationed close to the Delaware beaches and he’d kept surfing any time that their latest deployment had been near the ocean.
Even during his tours of duty, he would find a way to surf if a beach was nearby. There was something about the ocean and its vastness with which he identified. Sitting there, in that great aloneness, waiting for just the right wave, suited him.
As an Army brat, he’d been alone for most of his life. Except for family, of course.
It had just been too difficult to make friends and then lose them every time his dad transferred to a different base.
Surfing had gifted him with something else: Patience.
He’d learned it was far better to bide his time to earn a perfect ride then hurry up and wipe out in a bad wave.
When he reached the spot where a few other surfers waited for the next set, he sat up and straddled the board, his legs dangling over the edge. Well, his one leg and three quarters of his left with the durable prosthetic. He floated there, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the wash of the water all around him.
Enjoying life and appreciating just how fragile it could be.
It had taken him a long time to get to this point. To get past the pain and anger at his loss and be thankful that it hadn’t been worse. To be grateful for the path on which he’d been set that had brought him here.
He gazed back toward the shore and to the growing crowd of people on the beach. He could make out his boss and friend Mark Smith and his wife Bridget as Mark hauled the volleyball equipment down to the sand. Following them like baby ducks chasing after their mother were another group of his friends. His work buddy and former Navy Seal Rafe Castillo and his wife Elena. Marine Lieutenant Trevor Mason and Maggie Sullivan, Bridget’s younger sister, visiting again from New York City.
His friends.
It was weird to say that after the many years that he hadn’t had any.
And he knew that chances were that Samantha would be joining them soon.
Lieutenant Commander Samantha Whittaker.
She’d snared his attention the very first time he’d joined Mark and his wife at one of these gatherings and later again at the other parties held by the many veterans who lived along this stretch of the Jersey Shore.
He’d be lying if he said that it had been anything other than a rockin’ hot bod and stunning face that had made him take notice the first time. But it hadn’t taken him long to see past her beauty to the strong and smart woman inside. One who laughed often, but whose gaze was shadowed by pain.
He wondered a lot about what had put the darkness there and what would drive it away.
He also wondered if he’d misread something else in that gaze: Desire.
He thought he’d seen it after the first couple of times that they’d talked. A hesitant half glance and that look that said she maybe wanted more, but was afraid to say so.
Which puzzled him considering the kind of
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