New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

Normally he could stand right in this spot, with his picture-perfect view of Lake Tahoe, dotted with sailboats and whitecaps, and be so satisfied with his life he couldn’t stand it.

He loved this place, it was his heart and soul. It was also a symbol of all he’d accomplished in his life, of how far he’d come from the young, homeless street rat he’d once been. It had taken every ounce of courage and grit he’d had to manage college, then to procure an internship. Even more to start up his own company, but he’d done it.

Though he was no longer a nobody, some of the stigma had stuck to him, and it wasn’t often he let people inside. For so much of his childhood and young adulthood he’d had no control over his life, and now as a direct result, he valued his independence above all else.

Even his friendships were treated with kid gloves and some distance.

Until Becca.

There was just something about that woman. That he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was was more than a little disturbing. It wasn’t attraction, he assured himself. Not sexual attraction, anyway.

Yeah, right.

But sleeping with her would be a very bad idea. Sex, great as it would be, would ruin everything because afterward he’d be looking for a way to escape and she’d be planning their two-point-five kids and a white picket fence.

Today, though, when she’d been talking about making a change, talking about adventure and strip clubs, he couldn’t help but take notice. She was running hot and itchy, and she intended to get that itch scratched.

Something akin to panic filled him at that thought. Platonic panic, he assured himself, but panic nonetheless. After all, anyone could see she was a baby when it came to affairs of the heart.

And she was going out looking for action.

It was simple really. He had to do something. She’d made it clear that tonight was the night.

Like a caged lion he paced his office, knowing what kind of man she’d attract at a strip club. A bad one. An unkind one. One who would take advantage of her.

Dammit!

Someone was going to have to look after her, help her, protect her.

Someone was going to have to find out what the hell she thought she was doing, and he hoped it would be someone who cared about her. Someone who understood she just wanted an adventure. Someone who wouldn’t hurt her.

Someone like him. God. Him.

He swore again and grabbed his keys, hoping he wasn’t too late. Luckily the town was small, there were only a limited number of places she could have gone.

If she even stayed in town that is. She could have gone to South Shore, where there were any number of places she could go find her trouble.

Summer. She’d know what Becca was up to.

He hoped.

BECCA DID GO FIRST. Not by choice, but when she and Summer walked up to the man in charge of the parasailing, he took one look at Becca and said, “You first.”

“Me?” she squeaked in tune to Summer’s nervous giggle. “Why me?”

“Because, and no offense here, lady, you look as if you might back out after your friend here goes.”

“She’s my sister.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “All the more reason for you to go first.”

Well it had been her idea, she told herself as she was strapped into a complicated-and hopefully very safe- contraption. Only fair that she go first.

Right?

Sounded good in theory. But she screamed when the first rush of wind lifted her from the launch pad, and she gripped the strap in front of her so tightly her fingers promptly went numb.

She screamed when Summer waved to her from the shore. Summer, who was one little tiny dot on the sand. Oh my God, Becca thought, slamming her eyes closed, screaming again.

Adventure, a very teeny voice reminded her.

So she opened her eyes. And continued to scream when she looked down from her height of over one hundred and fifty feet and could see the entire Tahoe Basin spread out beneath her.

Oh my God!

When they started to lower her, and her stomach switched places with her now scrambled brain, and she kept on screaming. The rush was amazing, huge, and worth every penny of the exorbitant fee she’d paid to be scared witless.

At fifty feet she started breathing again. At twenty-five feet she waved triumphantly down to Summer, who was standing next to a tall, dark, handsome looking man… Twenty feet…

Kent.

He was standing there next to Summer, head tipped back as he studied her descent with an inscrutable look on his face.

Still okay, Becca told herself at fifteen feet. You’re okay. Exhilaration raced through her, both because she’d had her first and second adventures already, and now Kent was looking at her in a way that made her think her third adventure might be far more interesting than she could have imagined.

Their gazes met, his dark and strangely fierce. A tingle started in her stomach, which was now thankfully back in it’s rightful place behind her belly button.

Ten feet.

And she remembered, she was looking pretty hot. Her hair, her makeup…had he noticed?

Oh yeah, she could tell by the way he was staring at her that he most certainly had noticed.

Yep, everything was going pretty darn good, and it remained that way…right up until the time she missed the launch pad on her descent and hit the icy, cold water of Lake Tahoe.

SHE DREAMED ABOUT IT, the mascara running down her face in oh-so-attractive rivulets, her clothing plastered to her body like a second skin as they’d hauled her out of the water, dripping like the catch of the day.

And was rudely awakened by the alarm.

Groaning, Becca buried her head because it wasn’t just a dream-it had really happened.

She wasn’t sorry she’d tried parasailing, she wasn’t even sorry she’d hit the water. That Kent had witnessed the whole thing was the sorry part. It was one thing to willingly make a fool of herself, but it was quite another to have an audience while doing it.

He hadn’t laughed when they’d unceremoniously dumped her back on the launch pad at Summer’s feet, he hadn’t dared, but she thought maybe he’d wanted to.

And what had he been doing there anyway?

After making sure she was okay and as warm as possible behind the heater in her car, Kent had vanished as quickly as he’d arrived.

Had Becca only imagined that flash between them? The sun had been setting, she remembered as she picked out one of her new outfits. It could have easily been a trick of light, that look in his eyes. Yeah, that was it.

A few minutes later she stepped into her new panties. The red lace thong immediately gave her a wedgy, but Summer had insisted she try them.

Doubtfully, she pulled on one of her new dresses and wondered if she would be able to go all day without yanking at her underwear.

She also wondered what Kent would say to her today. Would he mention the new look?

Probably not.

She supposed her next adventure would have to be something other than jumping her hard-to-read boss. But what?