Do-Over Rules

Ten minutes. It's plenty of time to walk down the beach to the meeting spot for today's swim lessons. And...plenty of time to see a ghost, apparently.

When I tossed my pack over my shoulder and signed off duty at Lifeguard Tower four, I never expected that I'd get blindsided.

I was happily thinking about a parts list to order for the car restoration when I looked up and there she was.

Mia...my Ex. I almost scrub my eyes. But that would be an admission that I might be losing my mind. Surely it's just a doppelgänger. There's no fucking way my former wife is in Lynn's Cove, my town. She went into hiding in Europe, said she never wanted to see me again. It's not like California is a little hop and a skip away.

Plus, she'd never wear a dress like that—way too stuffy and normal. Definitely not her.

But damn, whoever she is, she's close enough to give me the cold chills and a dose of pissed-off all over again.

I command my feet to start working again as the woman turns her back and walks farther away.

I try to shove her out of my mind along with the bitter taste of anger that she left behind.

A gaggle of little swimmers are waiting on me, so there's no time to chase her down. Not that I really want to. I have no reason to want to see someone that dredges up those soul crushing memories. Ever.

Jeremy's already chatting with the kids when I get there. Thankfully, it's impossible to ignore them. They drown out any and all thoughts in my shocked brain. Kids love to scream when they play in the water. You add water and the volume control goes right out the window.

My ears will be ringing for hours, far longer than the swim lesson with the herd squealing kiddos surrounding my legs. As we begin, they are hardly more than blurs of neon swimsuits and sounds that humans shouldn't be capable of making.

I duck out of the way just in time to avoid a spray of water unleashed from one kid's hands. Losing myself in the moment, I laugh. “Almost got me.”

Jeremy, my fellow lifeguard's eyes are wide in disbelief as he watches the madness.

“You must really like kids.” I nod, “I do, I once thought I'd have a houseful of them by the time I hit this age.”

Jeremy knows I'm divorced so he doesn't say anything else, and before my mood has time to drift dark, I say, “I usually give them a couple of minutes to get this out of their system before we begin.”

He grimaces, “I can see why.” After a few more minutes of ear torture, I yell, “Listen up, we're about to start our lesson.”

Six little faces turn toward me, they shove at their soppy hair and blink saltwater from their eyes.

“Okay, Amelia, how about holding my hand instead of my leg?” I pry her little hands from around my knee. “That's it, hold onto my hand.”

“But...” She protests. I grip her hand, “See, this is much better. You can jump up and down when you hold my hand.” I demonstrate by hopping up and down in the water.

Jeremy's grinning like he's seen the funniest thing on earth.

“Man, you're good at this.”

“It's fun, once you get hang of it.” We spend the next twenty minutes showing the kids how to face the waves, and how to duck under the bigger ones. Amelia squeezes the life out of my fingers the whole time.

“Okay, now let's ride a wave to the beach and take a snack break!”

“Yay!” Shouts one really, really excited little boy named Jack. “And I love...I love riding waves. Seee...watch me.”

He flops himself down in front of the next wave and gets scooted all the way back to the beach.

When we start walking back to the shore through the thigh deep water, I glance over. Jeremy has one boy hanging on his back, and another clinging to his arm. “You all right over there?” I joke.

“We're good. They're not ready to ride a wave yet.” I watch all the other kids catch their own waves. Once I know everyone is safe, I ask my little cling-er-on-er, “Amelia, wanna catch a wave?”

Her green eyes are big as an owl's as she watches my face.

“Come on, let's do it. Climb on my back.” I get her settled piggy-back style. She wraps her arms so tightly around me I'll have blue lips if I don't hurry. I lower myself into the water and let the next wave carry me in. Amelia laughs the whole way.

A herd of eager moms meet us as we hit the beach. Libby Meyers rushes toward me to claim the sea-monkey off my back. She makes it a point to plant her hand right on my bicep before she grabs her daughter. “Look at you two! You are amazing, Bishop.”

The look she's wearing is a little too something... like she's eyeing a piece of chocolate cake. Her eyes skim over my bare chest in an appreciative sweep.

I'm kind of used to it, honestly. I've gotten pretty good at deflecting lifeguard fantasy chasers during my decade of working for the county.

I swing Amelia down off my back and pass her to her mom.

“Just doing my job.”

“You're a natural with kids.”

“They're funny. I enjoy teaching them how to stay safe, which makes my job easier as a lifeguard too.”

I don't say that dealing with kids is a hell of a lot easier than dealing with adults.

“Mr. Archer!” Calls Jack's mom as she swivels her way toward me. Single mom number two wants some attention as well.

“Good afternoon Anne, Jack did really well.” She bats her mascara coated eyelashes and sort of twists around so her swimsuit shows a little more of her Grand Canyon cleavage, “He just adores you.”

I start to back away before I get caught in someone's snare, “Let's get some snacks and get those kids back in the water.”

Jeremy's already opening the bag of snacks and juice boxes when I get to him. As he hands things out, I get a thank-you card from my bag.

“Hey, Moms, while the kids eat, I'd like to get this thankyou card to the owners of The Tides restaurant signed for sponsoring today's lesson with the county.”

The card gets passed around. I eat some goldfish and drink a juice box that looks like a toy in my hand. After everyone's had time to warm up, we head back to the water for a lesson on rip currents.

Jeremy looks a little less shell shocked this time. He's finding his groove, and Jack seems to be his sidekick now. Wonder if Anne will show him her tits too?

By the time we get back to the beach again, most of the moms are sun bathing. So the goodbyes and thank-yous include a few skin to skin hugs.

I used to try to avoid them getting all up on me, but now I just get the hugs over with. Better to get it out of the way. I figure it's making someone's day to hug the lifeguard, even if it's the last thing I want to be doing.

Jeremy swivels around to me when the last mom-child pair is gone. “Oh, my god. I got attacked. Two women tried to hug me at once. And that last woman rubbed her giant boobs all over me, then stuffed her phone number in my hand when she was leaving.”

I can't contain my laugh. “It was your turn today!” He groans. “I had no idea kid's swim lessons would be so dangerous.”

Kneeling down, I unzip my duffel bag and fish my hand around inside. I pull out a folded slip of paper. “Every time...”

I hold up the hand-written note so Jeremy can see the words. In feminine cursive it reads, “Call me if you ever want to have adult swim, Camille,” Her signature is followed by her digits.

His eyes go wide. “Oh, shit!” I crumple the number and shove it into the wet pocket of my uniform shorts. When I get back to the tower, I'll throw it away. I never call them and I never take the notes home. Not after what happened before.

He mutters, “I had no idea.”

“I guess fit guys who like kids are in demand. I could hook up with plenty of them if I wanted to.”

Jeremy shakes the sand out of two county issued beach towels that the kids had been sitting on. “Have you ever taken one of them up on the offer?”

“Oh, no. I'm not in the market.”

“You're divorced, right?” I let the word settle into my throat for a second. I never wanted to be divorced, but it happened and seeing Mia's twin just reminded me of the fact that I loved her. I mean really, really fucking loved her. “Yeah, I am.”

“This is probably too personal, but can you ever see yourself getting married again?”

“Nah,” I admit. “I'm in no hurry to get that kind of involved again. You ever think about getting married?”

“Sure, man. But I haven't found anyone even close to being the one.”

“Good luck with that,” I mutter. “Hope you have better luck than I did.”

Once we've cleaned up, I break off from Jeremy to deliver the thank you note to The Tides restaurant. If I don't do it now, it will end up in my bag for weeks.

I pause outside the hotel door to pull on my county issued lifeguard t-shirt, an obnoxiously bright green thing with a big rescue cross on the front and back. Dashing my hand through my hair, I try to look as presentable as possible. Not that people in town aren't used to seeing me salty and wind whipped. I've been like that since I was a kid. Can't imagine it any other way.

I'm underdressed for the place, The Ocean Inn is swanky, and the Tides is a five-star restaurant, but this is official lifeguard business so the uniform works, and I'm not here for a hotel room or a meal.

Actually, I've never eaten at The Tides. Suits give me hives so the place is not high on my list of priorities for dates or special occasions...if I had such things.

The restaurant that sponsors the kid's ocean swim lessons sits on the top floor, the penthouse, and has its own dedicated elevator. As I round the corner to the nook that holds the elevator, the door is closed.

The staircase catches my eyes. Six floors is nothing. The stairwell is quiet and cool as I take the steps two at a time.

I'm surprised by a locked door when I hit the fourth floor. It appears it takes a swipe card to go any higher— I can't take the stairs all the way to the sixth floor.

What the hell? Guess I'll have to take the elevator after all. I drop back down to the third floor and press the call button.

After a couple minutes, the door slides open. I step inside. You might as well have smacked me with a frying pan. I wouldn't have been any more stunned than I am when I realize the former Mrs. Mia Archer, my Ex is standing in the corner.

Well, fuck. I guess that really was her.

I SWALLOW HARD, and her name comes out on a broken remnant of my voice. “Mia.”

Seeing a ghost up close never looked so good.

Or felt so eviscerating. Just when I was starting to stitch my gaping gut-wound back together, beginning to feel like I could hold the pain at bay, she shows up, looking like the wild butterfly that once drew me in.

Yep, she lured me the way sweet nectar draws a bee. She won't do it again. Fool me once...and all that shit. She breathes, “Bishop.” Her slender hand flutters to her neck.

Fuck me sideways. I wondered how I would feel if I ever saw her again.

It's way more painful than I ever could have imagined. That glimpse of her on the beach was NOTHING compared to this.

My heart clenches hard behind my breastbone, feels as if it might just stop. “Shit. I did not expect to see you ever again.”

After a few seconds she chokes out, “Well, I'm here, it's not a hallucination.”

“A nightmare,” I mutter. I can't rip my eyes from hers. Like a moth can't resist a flame. A cascade of emotions crosses those too wide, pale gray windows of hers.

I want to fucking lower my mouth to hers. For a few seconds just the press of skin to skin. But I know something inside of me will ignite if I taste the honey that forever haunts my dreams.

And if I unleash the hunger and pain inside of me it will shake the foundation of the hardened man I am. No I won't go there. I want answers for why she did what she did. “What—”

Suddenly the floor below us falls by at least an inch, causing my insides to jolt.

Mia screams, “Oh my god!” She grabs for the wall as I stumble forward.

I sway, and steady myself with a hand against the wall too. I chuckle, “That's not a good feeling.”

Her wild eyes scan the elevator. “Listen, do you hear that?” I tilt my head, as if it might help me understand what is going on. “That's a weird sound...”

“Elevators aren't supposed to make creaking sounds,” she whispers.

The floor drops again, jolting down, a total of maybe three inches this time.

A high pitch gasp-yelp tears from Mia's throat. She's clinging to the railing along the wall like a scared cat changing onto a tree. And I can't blame her much.

I grab her wrist, pull her toward the floor. “I think we should sit down.”

The eerie as fuck groaning sound starts again. I gaze at the ceiling. “I don't like this one bit.” She croaks. “I thought you don't mind heights?” She jabs at my arm. “That's different. There are safety nets when I'm working.”

“These things have a lot of safety mechanisms.” Mia twists her hands in her lap, her brow creased in worry. I know she's trying to keep from chewing her fingernails. It was a habit she was fighting when we were married.

Mia catches me looking at her, “I haven't chewed my fingernails in years, but right now I want to rip every nail off.”

“Chewing them right now won't help a bit.” I offer. She frowns, “B—” Her eyes fly wide. The elevator is moving. Not like normal moving. It's slipping downward or something.

“It's okay.” I try to sound confident.

She shakes her head violently. No. “This is not okay.” A loud clang rattles through the elevator. That does it for her apparently, pushes her right over the edge. Before I know what's happening, she's got her strong, slender acrobat's body wrapped around me like I'm a fire pole.

“Mia, what the hell?” I rasp as my betraying hands pull her right into my damned lap.

She's shaking. The woman with nerves of steel is scared out of her mind. I've never seen her upset like this. “Do you have some fear of elevators I don't know about?”

Her blonde hair bobs as she nods her answer against my chest. “I'm fine as long as I'm not stuck in them.”

“We should try to call someone.” She reaches for her purse, then her hand stalls, “My phone is in the car.”

I groan. “Well, I'm not much help either. Mine is in the console of the truck.”

I look around for the elevator phone. Leaning back, I pop the little door open and pull down the handset. It's supposed to ring automatically. There is no sound on the other end. “Hello. Hello.” Nothing.

I stretch over and push a few of the buttons in the phone cabinet and get no results. I put the receiver back and shut the door. “Nothing here.”

“Don't you think someone will notice and call for help.”

“Sure. Sooner or later,” I grumble. “When the dinner hour hits, I'm sure someone will be mad, the elevator isn't working.”

She groans, buries her face deeper into my chest. “I'm going to be late for my interview.”

That's when it hits me. The smell of her—that delicious mix of wild woman and lavender shampoo. It drops a shot of testosterone the size of a bowling ball right into my groin.

Oh, hell no. This is not happening.

I'm supposed to be mad at her. I'm supposed to fucking run like a wild animal away from this witch.

But here I am, butt to nut, with her wrapped up in my arms, with my body doing all the thinking because my brain sure as hell isn't.

I try like hell to ignore the buzzing in my veins that threatens to turn me into a raving lunatic.

Something needs to happen fast. Either we better get rescued, or we better have an argument, or something to turn this train around because I'm like a ticking time bomb.

It's T-minus two minutes til I kiss the shit out of her and regret it for the rest of my life.

The elevator groans again. Really loud this time. She clams up. Honestly, I do too. Idle chit chat isn't covering up the concern that's growing by the minute. Something's very wrong.

Suddenly we're plunged into darkness. Not even an emergency light. She whimpers, “Kill me now. Go ahead— I'm going to have a heart attack.”

I chuckle. “It's just the dark. I know you're not afraid of the dark.”

“This is not just the dark. This is in the pitch dark, suspended three floors above the ground, in an elevator that's possessed.”

“Pretend you're somewhere else.” She giggles then, and I get a rush of goosebumps as I recall the sound from a lifetime ago. “What's funny?”

“I just remembered when we were in that cabin in Mammoth and all the power went out. Remember that?”

“Yep, I do. I think I had to crawl to the kitchen to find the emergency candles.”

“That was a fun weekend.” She murmurs. A long silence stretches between us. “Yeah.” I admit.

She burrows around, getting comfortable against me. Her slender fingers dance along my jawline, then she's cupping my face in her cool hands. “In case we die, I need to do this.”

I'm too stunned to move when she touches her mouth to me.

For a second, I'm lost in her. The familiar sweet flavor of her mouth melts my brain.

When she pulls back, I get mental whiplash. I nearly snap all my teeth off before I manage to grit out. “Why are you here?”