Page 1 of Florida Sunshine

Chapter One

Dane

I surveythe old building rising up from the sand, a testament to the past. It looks out of place in between the sleekly modern builds flanking it on either side.

It’s an eyesore.

That’s okay. It won’t be that way much longer.

I recently acquired this property when the previous owner got in over his head and needed a buy-out. I’d made him an offer he couldn’t refuse because beachfront condos is what I deal in, and this building is standing right in between two of my other developments.

I’m going to bulldoze this piece of shit down and build something new from the ashes. Something modern and contemporary and luxurious like everything else in my portfolio.

It’s going to be glorious, and it’s going to make me a ton of money like every other development I’ve done.

I get out of my Bentley and walk around to the back of the building to check out the view from the back.

The building looks just as shabby from the backside as it does from the front, but the ocean view behind it is breathtaking.

The crystal blue of the Atlantic Ocean twinkles in the summer sunlight as the waves roll up and crash onto the shore, diffusing into a spray of white foam.

Umbrellas, coolers, beach towels, and lounge chairs sprinkle the white sand with flashes of color. People play in the ocean and lay in the sand. It’s a nightmare for the locals—filled with tourists.

It’s a condo developer’s wet dream.

But that’s not what causes my pulse to race and my chest to constrict almost painfully in a reaction unlike any I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

It’s when a girl in a simple white bikini throws back her head and laughs. It’s not the bikini that has me stopping in my tracks. Living in Florida, bikini-clad forms are a dime a dozen, though her body is definitely enough to tempt a man. She’s slim with just enough curves in all the right places. I like that her tits aren’t overly full where they’re falling out of her bikini top, but they’re not so flat she can’t fill out of her top. She’s got just enough rise to the mounds of her breasts, and the cheeks of her perfectly tanned ass barely peek out of the sides of her bikini bottoms—just enough to tease. I find myself wishing her bottoms were thongs so that I could see what I can already tell is a perfectly perky, round butt.

It’s not her body that grabs my attention and has me rooted to the spot, though. It’s the sound of her laughter. It’s like the musical tinkling of bells. It’s pure and unadulterated, and her face looks so angelic, even from here.

Long blonde hair flows down her back to her waist. It’s wavy and messy in that carefree, beach-blown way. She’s with a group of friends, and I wonder who said what to make her laugh like that.

She bends to pick up the volleyball that fell down by her feet, and I watch in fascination as she holds it in one hand and then pops it from below with the other, serving it over the net.

The group on the other side scrambles to hit it back over the net, but the hit goes awry and the ball goes sailing sideways toward where I’m standing.

She says something to her friends with a toss of her head over her shoulder as she’s already walking my way to retrieve the ball.

I’m not really close enough to the volleyball to warrant picking it up, but I find myself crossing the few steps over to it anyway.

I pick the ball up and wait as she approaches me, and then I damn near can’t breathe when my eyes lock onto hers.

They’re a light blue-green, the color of seafoam. The tan on her skin and the light blonde color of her hair make them stand out even more.

They’re vibrant with youth and innocence and mirth, and I can’t stop staring at them—at her.

The closer she gets, the more I make out other details I couldn’t see from a distance, like the rosy pink hue to her puffy lips, the spikes of her dark lashes, her high cheekbones.

She licks her lips and then smiles up at me, and my nostrils flare.

I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me, but this girl has me feeling like I’ll die if I look away from her.

I don’t say a word. Instead, I just hold out the ball as she finally reaches me, and I stare down at her, drinking in the sight of her up close like I’ve never seen a woman before in my life.

* * *

Summer


Tags: Emma Bray Romance