Free Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2) by K.F. Breene Page A

touching as she softly put her other hand
on his back. “…here,” she whispered.
    She leaned closer to his face, to his parted
lips. His eyes watched her approach, heavy-lidded, wariness gone.
Krista felt light all over. The lighting, the waves crashing behind
them, the calm and quiet of the beach, all cast a mystical quality
on the moment.
    She moved slowly, as if through honey, their
eyes and face so close. Her hand turned him to her, moving him
closer rather than into the correct pose. His body lost all
rigidity and molded to her palms like play dough, his eyes glued to
hers like a drunk man clutching a cup of coffee. Even closer, his
eyes dropping to her lips, her eyes nearly closed, waiting.
Hoping.
    Within millimeters… his balance gave
out.
    He sucked in a breath as he
grabbed for her shoulders. In surprise she forgot to plant her
feet. After a tiny fight for balance they tumbled, landing with a
soft smack, his
weight pressing her deeply into the packed sand, sandwiching
her.
    She barely had time to say
“ Oh ,” or
“ yes please,” before he rolled to the side and lay next to her,
panting.
    “Are we done yet?” he asked to cover the
moment.
    “You are a long way to getting that pose,
but for today, yeah. I don’t want to stand any—“
    It was then that a wave washed further
inland than expected--or maybe not, since the tide was coming in.
The water washed up over them in a surge, dunking them, filling
their mouths with freezing cold, salty ocean.
    Krista’s first reaction, and the one she
went with, was to immediately panic! She wasn’t a sophisticated
ocean goer. In fact, the ocean and all its power terrified her. In
a world after Jim, where she craved control, the ocean was a power
all its own. Untamable.
    She flailed immediately, submerged, scared,
freezing water washing over her. She held her breath and closed her
eyes, thinking she was being sucked out to sea. A second later she
was hoisted up by familiar hands, the wave already receding.
    “Are you okay?”
    Krista opened her eyes, seeing Sean’s face
close to hers, largely in shadow. “That wasn’t a part of my
relaxation and energizing regime.”
    Sean smiled in relief, looking down on
her.
    “You reacted quickly,” she said with
appreciation, hugging her now-wet body.
    “All you had to do was stand up,” he
laughed. “C’mon, let’s get somewhere warm.”
    Through chattering teeth Krista said, “Warm
is good.”
    On their way to the house, as Krista was
feeling more like an icicle than a human, she noticed Sean was
walking normally, the cold apparently not affecting him. He swam in
the ocean often as a surfer, it was true, but he had a wetsuit for
that.
    “How are you not cold?” she asked through
chattering teeth. They were walking to his house, for which she was
thankful. It was closer.
    “I am. But I’m the man. I’m not supposed to
show cold.”
    “Do men just sit around and create man-code
for stupid things? Is it, like, a one-upper fest when these rules
get created? One guy says, ‘A man does not cry.’ And a second guy
says, ‘Well, except when at a funeral.’ And the first one says,
‘No, not even then. A man is strong. Only women cry, and women are
weak. A man is not weak. He does not cry.’ Then another guy, who
probably has a bigger pee-stick, says, ‘Except when drunk. When
drunk, a man may cry, but only for the dead, or the lost.’ Then the
circle of men nod their head, because that sounds like a good
hedge, and enter it into the man log. That about it?”
    They were in Sean’s house at that point.
Sean ushered Krista into a dining area just outside the
kitchen.
    “You have too much time on
your hands,” Sean said, laughing. “But I am cold, so please excuse
me.”
    She didn’t realize that was his introduction
to strip down to his boxer briefs.
    She looked away quickly when her groin gave
a worrying lurch. She remembered those big, muscular shoulders and
torso, but she hadn’t seen it tuck down