Free He's the One by Linda Lael Miller

torso. With her armor back
     in place, she stared at herself in the mirror. Yikes. She needed an entire tube of
     no-frizz and an hour with her makeup bag.
    But first things first. She stepped out of the bathroom. The cottage was cozy but
     small. Single bedroom, living room, and kitchen open to each other. It’d come casually
     painted in beachy, muted colors of light blue and earth tones, and the little bit
     of furniture they’d put in matched. They’d bought the place as a fantasy escape, but
     their harsh reality had been that they’d rarely had the time to come.
    Or Ella hadn’t. In the past two years her job had cut into her personal time considerably,
     something else James had hated.
    But for the first time she’d had a career, not just a job, and Ella had loved feeling
     needed.
    With perfect twenty-twenty hindsight, she could admit she’d given her job more than
     she’d given her marriage, and that shamed her to the core.
    But James had never needed her. He’d loved her, passionately, of that she had no doubt,
     but he’d never needed her. Not like she’d needed him.
    Still, their relationship had deserved more. James had deserved more.
    In one sweeping glance she could tell she was entirely alone. The west-facing wall
     was all windows, open to the ocean. The sun had gone down, leaving the sky flaming
     in purples and blues, and there, at the water’s edge, stood the shadow of a man.
    James.
    As she watched, he stripped out of his shirt and pants in economical movements, his
     tanned, sleek, hard flesh nothing but a blur in the night as he lifted his arms and
     dove into an oncoming wave. She lost sight of him after that.
    It wasn’t the first time. She’d lost sight of him when he’d walked his damn fine ass
     out of their house six months ago, which had nearly killed her.
    But thoughts like that one only made her sad, and she didn’t have time for sad. She
     needed to get home. Needed to get back home to Los Angeles, and then up to Santa Barbara
     to get onto the Valeska.
    And yet she stood staring out at the ocean, at the occasional flash of James, swimming
     as if the devil himself was on his heels. It used to be she’d go to him . . .
    But his problems were no longer hers. He was no longer hers, and to prove it she turned away to grab her duffel, still on
     the couch. She’d grab some clothes, get dressed, and go.
    Any minute now.
    With a sigh, she dropped her towel and grabbed the bikini off the floor, the one she’d
     stripped out of a couple of hours ago, before hopping into her fated shower. She slipped
     back into the wet scrap of material thinking the modesty was silly, considering James
     had just seen her stretched out and captive for his perusal, but she figured it might
     put them on more even ground.
    Even ground was good, and she was a master of finding it. After living with well-meaning
     but hard-to-please parents all her life, then a string of boyfriends who’d lasted
     for less time than her string of meaningless jobs, she’d learned what she wanted.
    And that was to be appreciated for being who she was. Whoever that woman turned out to be. She’d thought James had been the man to do it, but she’d
     learned things didn’t always turn out how she wanted. That was life.
    She stepped outside into the warm night. There were no city lights, no highway noises,
     nothing marring the still, humid air but the sound of the waves pounding the shore
     and the small sliver of the moon lighting her way. She walked the sand until the water
     lapped at her toes. Every few seconds or so, as the waves shifted and moved, she could
     still see James bodysurfing, working his long, lean muscles for all he was worth,
     swimming out some nameless demon that she had a feeling might have a name after all.
    Hers .
    He took a four-foot swell, diving into the arc of water with skill and precision.
     He’d always swum like a fish, and standing there watching him, Ella was hit with a
     wave of her