Read Online Making Waves: A Perfect Kisses Novella by Ophelia London - Free Book Online Page B

honed in on the horizon, the farthest sliver of ocean, letting her mind wander. It wandered too far—jumping to worst-case scenario, like always—and she jerked her hand away.
    “You don’t have to decide now,” Will said, obviously sensing the return of her anxiety. “But I’d love to go for a swim, if you don’t mind.”
    “Not at all. Of course I won’t keep you from swimming. I just don’t know if I can.”
    His kind brown eyes studied her for a moment. “Did you bring a bathing suit with you today?”
    She shook her head. She hadn’t even brought one to Hawaii.
    “Okay, let’s go then,” he said, and pushed back from the railing, heading toward the stairs.
    “Where?” she asked, grabbing her laptop and following him toward the car.
    “There’s a store down the road.”
    The second he opened the passenger door for her, Justine’s hands and feet felt icy and heavy. All of her was suddenly cold. Scared. “No, wait—”
    “It’s okay. We’ll baby-step this thing. It’s up to you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t say you’re going to swim, but you will need a suit if we’re going to the beach. That’s logical, not scary.”
    “Right.” She nodded twice. “Not scary.”
    Will helped her into the car, then climbed in and started the engine. “And I do remember how much you enjoy shopping,” he said, sliding on his sunglasses.
    She laughed and felt the tension in her shoulders loosen…just a bit. “This is true.”

Chapter Eight
    How long did it take to try on a bathing suit? Justine had been in the dressing room for a very long time. For a second, Will wondered if she’d climbed out a window and fled on foot. He hoped this little experiment wasn’t freaking her out.
    Once he was sure she was really behind the dressing room door, he wandered around the small store, flipping over the one touristy postcard that bared his surfer name. He was never more grateful for his careful, incognito identity than right now. The last thing Justine needed was pressure. If he was going to help her through this, it was all about nice and easy.
    And he wanted to help. He couldn’t take away her loss, but maybe there was something he could give her.
    “Any luck?” he said, moving to her dressing room.
    “I’m not sure,” she replied as her door swung open. “What do you think?”
    Thinking wasn’t something Will was able to do right then, because when Justine stepped out of her dressing room wearing a teeny-tiny red bikini, every drop of blood rushed from his brain and headed south.
    “Um, nice,” he managed to garble. “ Very umm…”
    “It’s not too much?” She pivoted around to display her back half.
    Hooooly hell.
    Will’s pulse went into maximum overdrive, his helpless gaze glued on the tiny sliver of red fabric that could hardly be considered a bathing suit bottom.
    “Umm. Shhhyoob…” When it was probably obvious he couldn’t form a complete sentence, Justine turned to face him. A second too late, his eyes darted to hers. He hadn’t the damndest idea what his expression looked like, though he was pretty sure he resembled a horny teenager drooling over the cover model on the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue…live and in person and smelling like springtime.
    “Judging by your reaction, I’m thinking too much.” She stepped back into the dressing room. “I’ll try another.”
    It wasn’t until her door latched that Will was able to take a breath. Damn it, the girl was sexy. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? He took a deep inhale and swiped a shaky hand across his forehead. Maybe getting her practically naked wasn’t such a great idea. He was doing this to help her, not seduce her.
    How much help would he be if he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands away?
    A few minutes later, Justine’s door opened again, slowly this time, as if she didn’t want to startle him. She wore a deep blue suit, a two-piece, but not nearly as tiny as the red one. Will