Free Stranded With Her Ex by Jill Sorenson Page B

air near the bird blind, not an uncommon sight. Maybe they had their eye on a sick pup.
    Often, scavengers were the first indication of a shark attack. If they’d been flying over the surface of the water, wings flapping frantically, he’d have looked closer. A lazy circle over land didn’t garner a second glance.
    When he was finished, he dropped his binoculars.
    Jason stood next to Sean, situating himself in the frame of the shot. “Brent said he’d do shark watch again this afternoon.”
    Sean muttered his thanks. Offering to take Dani on a tour had been a mistake, but he couldn’t change his mind now.
    “Anything you want us to talk about?” Jason asked.
    Brent shrugged. “Waves. Sharks. Whatever.”
    Jason put his hand on Sean’s shoulder, nodding in the direction of the Perfect Wave. She was in fine form this morning. “Eight-to-ten, you think?”
    “At least,” Sean said, smiling.
    “You ever paddled out in double overheads?”
    “All the time.”
    “Maverick’s?”
    Sean laughed off the question, shaking his head in regret. He’d surfed some big waves before, but Maverick’s was huge. The infamous spot in Northern California was for daredevils only. “Have you?”
    “Just once. I got grinded.”
    “Lucky you didn’t die.”
    “Yeah. But I love being able to say I tried it.”
    No one had ever tried the Perfect Wave, and Sean knew how much Jason wanted to. His own mouth watered for a taste of it. When he was near the ocean, he liked to surf every day. Going for weeks without his favorite sport was difficult, but he’d become accustomed to denying himself pleasure.
    He was an expert in abstinence.
    Talking about the Perfect Wave had become a morning ritual for them. Maybe it was pointless and immature, like bragging about women.
    “What would you take out there?” Jason asked.
    “Today? A short, for sure.”
    “Yeah. Me too.”
    “There’s a shortboard in the supply closet,” Brent commented.
    Surfboards were very useful in shark research, so they always had a few on hand. Because of the time they spent in the water, surfers were the most likely victims of shark attacks. Sean had experimented with several different shapes, sizes and colors, trying to discover if the sharks had a preference. As far as he could tell, they’d bite anything. Many of the boards had chunks missing, but some were intact.
    The shortboard Brent mentioned was a recent donation, and it promised a nice ride. Both Jason and Sean had both already expressed an interest in testing it.
    Jason gave the Wave a hungry look, moistening his lips. He was young and bold, with a lust for life and an appetite for glory. Sean knew that having Brent film the feat, and include it in his documentary, made the idea even more tempting.
    “The Foundation would never let you come back,” Sean pointed out. Farallon Island was a federal preserve. As government employees, they were expected to follow safety procedures and adhere to strict standards.
    He didn’t bother to mention the obvious, that Jason could get eaten by a shark.
    “I have a hoodie wetsuit,” he mused, glancing at Brent. “You’d have to shoot wide, and promise not to tell anyone it was me.”
    “Done,” Brent said.
    “You’re out of your mind,” Sean said.
    “Would you tell?”
    “No, but that doesn’t mean you should do it!”
    His eyes darkened. “Maybe you want to get the jump on me. Is that it?”
    “No, you idiot. I don’t want to explain to your parents that you got killed out there, showing off on a stupid dare.”
    Brent raised his hands, claiming innocence. “I didn’t dare anyone to do anything.”
    “You made the suggestion,” Sean said. “Footage like that would be a great addition to your documentary, and you know it.”
    “Let’s just drop it,” Brent said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble, and I don’t condone reckless behavior. You two have talked about riding that wave before. I thought you were serious. My mistake.”
    Your