Page 24 of Free Wind (Lifeguards of Barking Beach #2)

“I might be in here,” Baz said over the radio, his usual low drawl sharp.

“Yeah, you’re in for sure,” Damo replied, keeping his binoculars trained on the head out the back.

From the tower, Damo watched Baz going flat stick in the buggy across the sand to reach the south end. It was a safer place to swim, but the patient had drifted way too far out and was tiring fast.

There was fresh chatter behind him in the tower, but Damo stayed focused on the man who was about to be rescued. Mid-morning, the crowd wasn’t hectic yet, but there were enough on the sand that it was eating into precious seconds before Baz finally made it.

He hopped out, taking off his blue uniform shirt and picking up the rescue board in one smooth movement that came from years of experience.

“Come on,” Ryan muttered, standing beside Damo and watching through another pair of binos, the chatter falling silent as they watched Baz punch through waves with powerful strokes. Water shone on his bald head and brown skin before he disappeared beyond a swell.

Damo’s heart thumped as the patient disappeared as well—before popping up again. A few moments later, Baz reached him, and everyone in the tower exhaled. Damo kept watch until Baz and the patient were back on shore, listening to Ryan talk to—

“Hang on!” Damo spun his chair to find Lachlan Yang with another lifeguard they all called Ronnie thanks to his horsey grin and ginger hair like Ronald McDonald. “The Shark returns! Shouldn’t you be in an office tower? Where’s your suit and Rolex?” He stood and held up a hand for a slap-shake.

Lachlan shook Damo’s hand with a smile that didn’t seem as big as usual. “Left them in the Bentley.”

Ryan threw an arm around Lachlan, his grin showing off the little gap between his front teeth.

His brown hair was short and messy and his white skin was rosy where he’d gotten too much sun on his nose.

He had another fresh tattoo inked on his lean torso.

This one looked like a horse, which struck Damo as ironic since Ryan’s surname was Bullock.

He’d initially been called “Bull Jr.” when he’d joined the service by the older guys who’d known his father, but he’d genuinely hated it so much that they’d relented.

Ryan said, “He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s back in action.”

Ronnie shared a surprised glance with Damo before saying, “Wait. Sharky, you’re coming back to the service?”

Lachlan shrugged, but it was anything but relaxed. “Yep. Missed all your ugly mugs too much.” He was tall with light brown skin and dark hair, his white teeth straight and even. But his smile was definitely not the usual wattage. He was still gorgeous, and—

Don’t think about Lachie being gorgeous!

Wait, why not? I’m allowed to.

No, you’re not! You have a boy—you have Blake. Who could maybe be your boyfriend. You have a boy Blake.

He was definitely allowed to think about Blake. Which was good, because he did almost every second he wasn’t concentrating on his job. Apparently, Damo was more vanilla than he thought. He’d never considered himself a prude or uneducated about sex, but bloody hell!

What Blake had said down in the garage under the tower was living in Damo’s head rent-free. None of his girlfriends had licked his arsehole, and it had never occurred to him to lick theirs.

After how far he’d gone with Blake that first night, he didn’t mind that they’d slowed down a bit. While part of him was dying to suck Blake’s cock again and have his own sucked—and try that arse business, definitely—he didn’t mind catching his breath.

For now.

God, he wanted to kiss him now and—

The radio in Damo’s hand squawked to life, and he dropped it with a yelp. It clattered onto the floor and he scooped it up as his face burned. He answered Baz, who cleared the patient he’d brought in to the beach, and Damo ordered himself to focus on work. He’d be seeing Blake in a few hours.

Six hours and forty-two minutes. Er, approximately.

He tuned back in to the conversation going on a few feet away as Ronnie asked, “Coming back as casual on weekends?”

“Nah,” Ryan answered for Lachlan. “We’re both full-timers again. I tried that job out at the mine, but all that money wasn’t enough. I need to be by the water.” He tightened his arm around Lachlan’s neck. “Lachie couldn’t stay away either.”

“Far out. It’ll be like old times,” Ronnie said as Teddy entered the tower. “Right, boss?”

Teddy said to Ryan, “Next, I’ll grow my hair back and your old man’ll waltz through the door again.”

Ryan’s face soured. “Yeah, nah. That arsehole can stay in Queensland.”

Teddy frowned, but didn’t say anything.

Damo asked Lachlan, “You’re not a lawyer anymore?” in the sudden silence, opening his mouth and jamming in his foot. Ryan glared daggers.

Lachlan flushed. “Well, I am, but, uh, I’m taking a break.”

“Don’t blame ya!” Ronnie quickly said. “No better place than Barkers.”

They all nodded and agreed, trying to smooth over the awkwardness as Teddy gave Lachlan his uniform, and Damo felt like the world’s biggest pork chop since clearly something had happened.

Lachlan had been a lifeguard all the way through law school before leaving for a fancy job in one of the posh office buildings in the CBD. He’d left shortly before Cody and Mia had joined, and it had barely been a couple of years.

Ryan clapped a hand on Lachlan’s back. “Come on, bruv. Let’s get you back in uniform and hit the beach.”

Damo scanned the water with the binoculars—and his mind started randomly turning over the word. Binoculars. Binos. Bi. Bisexual binos. Biiiiiiii. Did it fit him? What was the other word people used? As he watched swimmers playing at the south end, he rolled that word around on his tongue.

Then he was thinking about Blake’s tongue, and he was going to cop it if he got a hard-on in the tower. Jesus, he’d never live that down if he still had a job.

As Teddy checked medical equipment in the first aid area, Ronnie sat and wheeled close to Damo, keeping his voice low. “Whaddya reckon happened with the Shark? Never thought we’d see him back in blue.”

“Dunno. It’s definitely weird.”

Lachlan had gotten that nickname—the Shark—when he’d gone to law school, and they’d all joked about how they’d hire him to defend them when they got in trouble.

Had he always been gorgeous?

Duh, obviously. Damo remembered Lachlan’s sister had been a babe.

Their dad had been Asian and mum white, and they were both beautiful.

What he wasn’t clear on was if he’d really noticed Lachlan’s looks or if he was viewing everyone differently now.

He’d been curious for a while, but had he always subconsciously noticed blokes like he noticed chicks?

He wasn’t sure, and it probably didn’t matter anyway, but as Damo watched the beach, he wished he had a perfect, easy answer.

Later, Lachlan was in the tower for his break as Damo got ready to hand off control of the tower to Ronnie. Lachlan grimaced. “I see the microwave isn’t any cleaner.”

Damo laughed. “No, but it’s the new guy’s duty to give her a good scrub.”

“Too right,” agreed Ronnie. He watched the surf with the binoculars.

“I’m not new,” Lachlan grumbled, and he was definitely gorgeous, Damo decided. Not that it mattered—he had Blake, who was also gorgeous.

Did he have Blake? It had been less than a week, and it wasn’t like they needed to declare they were boyfriends. Why was Damo getting so hung up on labels? Bi, boyfriends—he needed to chill and go with the flow. He was at work. He was supposed to be laid-back except when someone was drowning.

Now he was thinking about home, and he tensed as he did another scan, fingering the purple cord around his neck. Mum was working a double, and he hadn’t actually seen her in a week. What would she think about Blake? Tabby would like him. Wouldn’t she?

“It was worth a try, mate,” Ronnie said to Lachlan before falling silent. He watched something on the beach intently before sitting back. “Hey, what’s the deal with Ry’s old man? He was pretty aggro about him.”

Lachlan sighed. “Yeah. Ry moved to Queensland with his parents when we were about fifteen. He moved back after high school—he’d never wanted to leave Barkers, and he and his dad had a falling out. His parents split a few years back, and he blamed his father.”

Ronnie asked, “His old man was a lifeguard here?”

“Yeah. Taught us to surf. He’s still a lifeguard out on the Gold Coast.”

“Guess he’s a real dickhead?” Damo asked as he watched a group of kids splashing in the shore break north of the flags. Close to the flags, but still outside the safe zone.

“No!” Lachlan cleared his throat. “He made a mistake, but Mr. Bullock wasn’t a bad bloke. He was cool.”

“Cool,” Damo echoed as he scanned the water.

“Anyway. Ry’s my best friend, and he has every reason to be aggro. Guess I just have a soft spot for his dad. We were both lifeguards because of him.” His face clouded. “Are, I should say.” He fiddled with the wrapper of the frozen burrito he was going to microwave.

“Bloody brilliant to have you here, mate.” Damo stood and slapped Lachlan’s back.

He gave Damo a small smile. “Thanks. Good to be back. Filthy microwave and all. It’s like I never left.”

Despite his curiosity about why the hell Lachlan had apparently given up his job as a lawyer, Damo bit his tongue for once. “I’m going out in the pink buggy. Ronnie, you and Sharky have fun.”

“Just Lachie,” he said. “I’m not a shark. Never was.”

“Exactly what a shark would say,” Ronnie replied, and they all laughed, though Damo wasn’t sure Lachlan’s heart was in it.

After his shift ended late afternoon, Damo was happy to change into street clothes, pulling on board shorts and a tee. Feet still bare, he said bye to the guys on the pack-up shift and hopped down the sun-warm wooden stairs.

The grass in the park behind the beach was springy underfoot, and he was practically skipping, his backpack slung over a shoulder. Scanning the long, narrow car park, he realized he had no idea what Blake drove.