Brian relishes in his most passionate of hobbies, but which one is it? Surfing...or driving the cute, blond lifeguard crazy? Molly's birthday party will give rise to some surprises of its own.

Brian had a goofy, beaming smile on his face as he looked quickly over his shoulder to see the monster wall of water rushing toward him. High tide was soon approaching, and this one had to be the biggest one yet. There was just something about mastering such a powerful force of nature that gave him in incredible high; almost an even bigger one than roping in a multi-million dollar account.

Leaping upright onto his surfboard just at the perfect time, his heart began to pound and adrenalin rushed through his veins as he bent his knees slightly and rode smoothly on top of the curling wave, feeling both exhilarated as well as in total control. "Yeah!" he couldn't help pumping his arm and screaming out over the sound of the water surrounding him. This is the life, he couldn't help thinking. He had to have been born a surfer in a previous life somewhere, because short of closing a big deal for Kinnetik, there was nothing else quite like this. He was glad he had finished up his obligation to Taylor, because now he had the rest of the week to do nothing but enjoy the sun, the surf, and some other 'leisurely' activities. That thought made him think of one particular blond he wouldn't mind doing a little 'exploring' with later today... In fact, ever since he had run into the lifeguard earlier, all sorts of intriguing possibilities had been sprouting up in his mind. The waiter had been doable, but not particularly satisfying. He wanted - needed - more. And there was something about that particular, slender little blond that appealed to him for some reason.

Scanning the beach as he rode his wave in, he noticed to his disappointment that the lifeguard chair was presently empty. Where the fuck had he gone; wasn't he supposed to be watching the beach for shark attack victims or someone who ingested too much seaweed or something? What kind of lifeguard was he? He groused. With his sunglasses currently hung on a cord around his neck for safekeeping, he rode his surfboard toward shore, squinting to look among the burgeoning crowd for the current object of his desire, but he was nowhere in sight.

Finally, however, he spied someone with bright, blond hair and red swimming trunks bent over, picking something up off the beach, and as the man rose up straighter and Brian confirmed who he was, his eyes went bug-eyed at the perfectly rounded, pert little ass practically winking back at him. Holy shit, he murmured in appreciation...just before the surfboard slipped out from under him and he lost his footing to go tumbling into the water.

Same Time...Justin's POV

"Everything's going to be okay," I assured my companion as I stooped down to peer into her troubled face. With her chubby little cheeks, curly blond hair and pink, two-piece swimsuit with ruffled skirt, she was positively adorable, and my heart went out to her a few minutes ago when I had seen her standing there a few feet away from my station, clutching a bright green, plastic sand pail with tears running down her cheeks.

I had hopped down from my chair, actually relieved to finally have a reason to stretch my legs a little, as I went up to her and stooped down to ascertain what was wrong. Through hiccups and sniffles, I had finally discovered that she had gotten detached from her mother somewhere and was feeling understandably scared and lost. It had taken me a few minutes to figure out where she had last seen her - over by the hot dog stand a few hundred feet away - but by the time I took her hand and began to walk with her toward the concession stand in search of her mother, an anxious-looking woman who bore a striking resemblance to her came rushing up to us.

"Is that her?" I asked the little girl as I pointed at the woman; the little girl broke out into a big cry of "Mommy!" before she went rushing into her arms. I smiled in relief as the woman walked up to me, the little girl now safely held against her chest.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed. "I've been looking all over for her! I turned around for a just a couple of minutes to get the hot dog, and she must have wandered off somehow. I was so afraid that she had gone into the water; she can't swim yet. That's why I was coming to find a lifeguard."

I nodded. "Well, I'm just glad that she's okay," I told her, wanting badly to tell her next time to watch her child a little better but holding my tongue. Instead, I politely reminded her," It's very crowded here today. It's easy to get detached from someone, even for just a few seconds."

She nodded contritely. "I know. I'm sorry; I won't let her out of my sight anymore," she promised as I nodded back at her. "Come on, Honey; I've got our food over there," she told her, indicating a towel several yards away. I smiled as the little girl turned around in her mother's arms and gave me a shy smile and a wave of one chubby, little hand as I suddenly noticed she had left her pail behind. "Wait!" I cried out as I picked the pail up. "She forgot this!" I called to the mother as she nodded and thanked me as she retrieved it and handed it to her daughter. As they walked away, the loud crash of the waves behind me made me turn around, just in time to see one of the surfers take what appeared to be a bad tumble off his board as my heart pounded in alarm.

I took off at a dead run toward the surfer, watching anxiously for any sign of him coming back up in the water. I could see the surfboard bobbing up and down nearby, riding in with the wave.

I didn't even have time to grab any rescue equipment as I ran toward where I had last seen the surfer fall. Wading, then swimming against the current as I hurried as fast as I could through the water, I came up for air frequently as I swam so I could spy the surfboard now heading toward shore and use it to help guide me toward where the man had last been seen. My previous training - and several hours of swimming in the resort's pool for exercise on a frequent basis - had honed my arms to where they were surprisingly more powerful and stronger than they looked as I used them to quickly paddle toward the surfer's last-known location. I managed to latch onto the surfboard in case it was needed as I swam up to it, using it as a flotation device so I could look around a little easier for the victim. Where was he? Finally, I spotted a dark-haired head about ten feet away from me, bobbing up and down in the water. I could see the guy was conscious; he was thrashing around in the water as I got closer to him. "Stay calm!" I yelled out to him over the waves. "Everything's going to be okay!" It seemed like as soon as I spoke, however, something happened, because he seemed to be pulled under the water and then came back up, his body now floating lifelessly on top of the surface.

"Fuck!" I yelled out as I swam as fast as I could over to the man. Had something attacked him? As I came up beside him, I dragged him to the surfboard and managed somehow to hoist him over onto his back to examine him more closely. My heart threatened to stop as I immediately recognized him as the surfer who had spoken to me earlier. I forced myself, however, to stay focused as I felt his wrist for a pulse and to my relief detected a strong, steady beat; I could also observe no apparent injuries. I could see his mouth slightly parted and his chest rhythmically rising up and down. "You're going to be okay," I told him, although at that moment I had no idea if that was true or not. "Just hang in there." Actually, I was scared out of my fucking mind. Once I had rescued a kid from the deep end of the municipal pool when he had gotten spooked over being in such deep water and I had to go pull him out. But this was completely different. This man wasn't moving at all; just lying there on the board. How did this guy go from being conscious to seemingly unconscious in a relative blink of an eye? I couldn't see any bruises or bites on him; in fact, he was gorgeous looking. Even soaking wet he looked amazing, I decided, as I admired the smooth, flat, golden skin and the classic-looking face... Get a grip, Justin! I chided myself instantly as I shook my head in disgust, clutching the edge of the board as I began to paddle as fast as I could toward shore.

Fortunately, the surfer hadn't been that far from the beach when he had wiped out, so while it seemed to take forever to get back to shore, in reality it was more like five minutes before I reached shallower water.

A crowd of people stood at the shore's edge, watching the drama taking place, as I finally heaved the surfboard to shore, exhausted over the exertion. Fortunately, my worry over how to get the guy onto the beach itself was solved relatively quickly when another lifeguard - an older, deeply wrinkled, grizzled veteran who went by the odd name of Zipper and was tanned to almost the point of being brown - rushed up to help me drag him onto the sand and lay him down onto his back. A group of gawkers stood approximately 15 - 20 feet away as he examined him.

"Is he breathing?" he asked me as I nodded and placed him onto his side to make sure there wasn't any water in his lungs that needed to be expelled. Feeling the heated stares of several people nearby, I leaned down in front of the man's slightly-parted lips to confirm that he was still breathing, placing my hand on his upper arm to brace myself, when all of a sudden I wound up with a hand gripping the back of my neck and my lips firmly plastered against his. It took me a couple of seconds to realize what was happening before, with a sputter of indignation, I pressed my palm against his chest and gave him a rough shove away from me, causing him to flop softly down onto his back. His hazel eyes fluttered open and twinkled mischievously back at me as he waggled his eyebrows and smiled.

"What...What the hell do you think you're doing?" I growled, my face warming over all the attention I was receiving.

"I needed some mouth-to-mouth," he deadpanned with a shrug of his muscled shoulders as everyone tittered and my face turned a deep shade of red that threatened to match the color of my swim trunks. Even Zipper chuckled beside me as the now clearly-uninjured man propped himself up on his elbows and smirked back at me with a distinct sort of "Gotcha" look on his handsome face.

"Well, I never...I thought you were...How could you..." The words slipped out as a jumbled mess, and despite the presence of children nearby, I couldn't help telling this moron (albeit gorgeous moron) just what I thought of him. "You asshole! I thought you were really hurt! How could you do that?" I huffed loudly as I rose to my feet and began to stomp back toward the lifeguard station, the laughter from everyone nearby ringing in my ears. I even heard a few of them clapping - clapping! - as I hurried back toward my post as quickly as I could.

Apparently not quickly enough, however, because just as I placed my hand on the wooden railing to ascend back up to my chair, I felt someone grab my upper arm and twirl me around. My heart pounded as I saw my 'victim' standing there facing me. He sure recovered quickly enough.

"What the hell do you want? You've had your little fun! Now leave me alone!"

He had the audacity to chuckle. "Aw, come on, Gidget, it was just a joke!" he replied with one side of his mouth quirked up. "Are you that uptight?" His eyes swept down toward my groin as I cursed my body's reaction to him. Damn man. "Yeah...I bet you ARE tight; uh, I mean, uptight."

I frowned at the odd name as my face flushed; I had no idea why he was calling me "Gidget," but I decided by the sarcastic way he was saying it that it had to be something demeaning and derogatory, which just made me even angrier. My eyes flashed in irritation as I glared over at him. "Go find some other amusement," I told him as I turned my back to him. "I've got work to do."

A low whistle of appreciation sounded behind me as I rolled my eyes, but I chose to ignore it as I ascended the steps back up to my 'perch.' After I sat back down and took a swig of my water, I peered down at the man, who was still standing in the same, exact spot with that exasperating smirk back on his face. "Well? Show's over!" I told him. "Go find some other stool pigeon to fool."

He laughed. "You're pretty hot when you get all riled up," he decided, hands on his hips as I harrumphed. "You get a lunch break, Gidget?"

"What's it to you? And what happened to Dudley Do-Right?" At least being interested in animation graphics, I was familiar with the name of the famous cartoon Canadian Mountie, and that one nickname was somewhat complimentary, unlike the other one.

He grinned up at me and shrugged. "Well, I don't know your real name, and I like Gidget better," he told me mysteriously. "If fits - well, except for the feet," he decided as he cast his eyes downward toward my unadorned feet, currently clad in a pair of lime-green flip-flops. "You know what they say...; if you have big feet, then you must have a big..."

I squeezed my eyes shut, the heat rising to my cheeks as I cursed myself for how easily I could be affected, at least by this sexy stranger. No, actually, I hadn't heard that saying, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where he was heading with that one. "Just go, will you? I'm working here!" I deliberately didn't look at his feet. That was one part of his anatomy I hadn't focused on yet, but I suspected if I did, they would have to be gargantuan, then, at least if what he was intimating was true...

He downright chortled in glee this time at my reaction as he smiled up at me. "Well, I'll find that out some other time," he told me. "Later," he dismissed me as he placed his mirrored sunglasses back on and headed over in the direction of where I had left his surfboard. Visions of whacking him over the head with it appeared in my mind as I yelled back, "There won't BE any 'later'!" With a backhanded sort of wave, he soon was swallowed up into the crowd, and once more I was left alone. "Arrogant asshole," I muttered as I folded my arms across my chest, but my heart was pounding just the same.

Despite his less-than-stellar manners, when he had stood there just now, eyeing me like a juicy piece of meat, it was all I could do not to imagine what it would feel like to have his lips plastered to mine in a real kiss, and to have his lean, trim body pressed against me as we rocked together in the throes of passion. And those eyes - it was the first time I had had an opportunity to study his eyes, which seemed to change from a green to a burnished gold at a moment's notice. His bronze-colored skin set off his eyes perfectly, and his upper arm had felt taut and lightly-muscled under my touch. Hell, everything about him was perfect - except for his manners.

"Aaargh!" I growled as I reached for the tube of sun blocker to reapply it to my body. If I didn't wind up with sunburned skin after this, I would be damn lucky. After I finished, I picked up the binoculars lying beside me and pretended to be searching the beach and ocean for anyone in need of my assistance, but deep down I knew what I was really doing as my eyes easily spotted the other man carrying his bright yellow surfboard toward the water as if he didn't have a care in the world. Sighing, I put my sunglasses back on and turned away from where he was to resume my patrol.

Late Afternoon...

"Thanks," Brian replied as a deeply-tanned, blonde-haired female resort employee handed him a paper ticket similar to a coat-check or valet parking stub. It listed identification information that he would need in order to retrieve his newly-acquired surfboard later. There was a small, fenced-in area behind the store where resort guests could either rent surfing equipment or leave their own property for safekeeping. It was yet another special benefit that Craig Taylor had installed at the resort, and it was one more convenience that had helped to make his establishment stand out among all the others.

As Brian trekked the short, wooden walkway back up to the hotel, he noticed Craig Taylor sitting at one of the back patio tables near the swimming pool, shaded by a large, aqua-colored umbrella and sitting with an elegant-looking blond woman and a strawberry-blond haired, young girl. They were all sipping drinks with some typical, tacky, miniature umbrellas stuck in them as he approached them.

"Brian!" Craig greeted him with a smile; he seemed more at ease this afternoon than he had been during their morning breakfast meeting. "Have a seat, and come and join us," he urged him. "I'll order you a drink."

"Thank you for the invitation," Brian told him politely as he shook his head. "But I think I'm going to head up to my room for a while." He had been surfing for several hours now, and the exertion - along with the brutal sun - had made him tired and drowsy. As feeble as it sounded, he wanted nothing more right then than to head up to his room, relax in his suite's Jacuzzi, and then lie down for a while before he went in search of something for dinner. He had had nothing for lunch, and was quickly getting hungrier by the minute. His hope of meeting a certain blond for lunch had, unfortunately, not materialized.

Craig nodded as the woman and young girl eyed him curiously. "Oh, I'd like you to meet my wife, Jennifer, and my daughter, Molly. Jen, Molly, this is the man I was telling you about who's creating the promotional campaign for the resort - Brian Kinney."

Brian nodded over at the two females as he reached to grasp Jennifer's hand. "Mrs. Taylor." He turned to the young, freckled girl sitting next to her and smiled. "And Ms. Taylor." Molly giggled at his formality as he couldn't help grinning back at her.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kinney," Jennifer told him in a cultured, soft voice. "Craig's been raving about what you came up with for the resort. He's very excited about the business he thinks will be generated from it. He's very impressed." She couldn't help studying the tall, handsome man standing before them, noticing his apparel. "You surf?" she asked with a smile.

He nodded. "Yes," he confirmed, brushing some sand from his arm. "I've only lived here in California for about six months now, but it's sort of a guilty pleasure of mine, you might say."

She nodded back at him. "Yes, Craig tells me that you're originally from the Pittsburgh area?"

He nodded. "That's right. Lived there all my life until recently."

"I guess this is quite a departure, then, from what you're used to."

He nodded at her with a smile. "Definitely. But I prefer the warmer weather...And I love the ocean." He paused as a waiter came over with another drink for Craig. "Well, it was nice meeting you and your daughter," he told Jennifer. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Uh, Brian? Why don't you join us for dinner later? We're celebrating my daughter's 13th birthday tonight with surf and turf. Our chef makes the best filet mignon anywhere in the state," Craig informed him with just a hint of pride.

Brian was a little surprised by the offer, having gotten the impression earlier that his client wasn't too ecstatic about the promotion he had created toward the gay market; apparently, though, Taylor must have had a change of heart - or at the very least realized how lucrative that campaign could be. If nothing, he was an astute businessman. "I don't want to intrude on a family occasion," he told him, although steak and lobster did sound appealing. And he had heard about the filet mignon here, although he had not tasted it yet. That was one thing Pittsburgh tended to excel in over this state; he had yet to find a good steakhouse. He had heard, however, that this resort came the closest to good quality steak, and he had wanted to try some of it.

"Nonsense," Jennifer gently chided him. "There's more than enough room, and there will be way too much food. You would be doing us a favor by helping us to eat it."

"That is, as long as you get there a few minutes before our son does," Craig added with a grin. "He can eat like a horse."

"Craig," Jennifer chided him with a gentle laugh. "Justin does have a good appetite," she told Brian. "But I'm sure there will be plenty. Please say you'll join us. Six-thirty?"

Brian finally nodded. "Okay. In the main dining room?"

She shook her head. "Actually, we'll be in the private dining room where you and Craig met earlier this morning for breakfast," she advised him as he nodded.

"Sounds good," he told her as he turned to go. "I'll see you at six-thirty, then." He nodded at the group before he headed toward the rear entrance leading into the resort.

"Well, he seems like a nice man," Jennifer murmured as she watched him go. "Awfully young, though, to be heading up a multi-million dollar ad agency."

Craig nodded as he took a sip from his new drink. "Yeah, but I checked out his credentials, and they're legit," he told her. "And you saw his ideas; very up-to-date and creative. Although I'm still not too sure about part of it. This whole thing about wanting to be with someone of the same sex..." He had told her about Kinney's ideas toward gearing part of their promotion toward a gay demographic; but Jennifer had actually decided that it was a brilliant idea.

"Craig, I thought you had accepted Justin for who he is," she said quietly. "How is this any different?"

"I do," Craig told her stiffly. "I have. But...It's still hard to come to grips with, Jen. I mean, women with women and men with men? It's just not...natural. And I'm not sure that some of the other patrons are going to appreciate that sort of thing."

Jennifer glanced over at her daughter before she replied, "Perhaps we should discuss this later in private."

Molly sighed heavily in exasperation. "Mom, for Pete's sake, I'm not a baby. He's gay, not from another planet! Sheesh. So this Mr. Kinney wants to advertise the resort in the gay community? I think that's a great idea! They have money just like everyone else, and I've never seen any other hotel ads welcoming them. Just think of all the business we'll get."

Jennifer quirked one side of her mouth up in amusement. Their daughter always had been too perceptive for her own good. She reached over to grab Craig's wrist before he had a chance to say anything he might regret. "And just how many gay magazines have you seen, Sweetheart?" she asked her daughter with one eyebrow raised in question.

Molly's skin almost flushed to match her hair as she admitted in embarrassment, "Well...none." Craig let out a sigh of relief. "But there's the internet. The travel sites, I mean," she hastily added as her parents gave her a wary look. "I just haven't run into a lot of them - that's all. I think he's got a good idea," she finally concluded. She furrowed her brow as a possibility occurred to her. "Hey, I wonder if he's gay, too. Is he married?"

Craig growled, flustered. "How would I know? That's none of my business - or yours."

Molly shrugged. "I know; I just think he's good looking. I just thought that if he was gay - and not attached; well..."

"Molly Elizabeth Taylor," Jen sternly scolded her. "He is much too old for your brother. Don't you even go there," she warned her as Molly huffed in disappointment.

Craig eyed his daughter incredulously. "Are you out of your mind, girl? You just get that out of your head right now," he told her curtly.

"But you said that you..."

"That's not what I meant," Craig told her. "I just mean your mother's right; he is much too old to even consider that possibility. Now I expect you to keep that idea to yourself when he comes for dinner tonight, do you understand me?"

Molly rolled her eyes as she played with the paper umbrella in her virgin daiquiri. "Yes, Sir," she finally replied glumly as Craig nodded back at her.

Same time...

Emmett smiled over sympathetically at me as he locked up the surfer shop for the day. "Baby, you look beat," he told me as I walked up to him.

I sighed as I brushed my hand through the top of my head. "That doesn't even begin to cut it," I admitted. "I never thought just sitting up there on patrol would be so exhausting. It must be the sun beating down on me all day long. Even with the shade, it was hot as hell up in that chair."

Emmett nodded at me as he appeared to look me over studiously. "Turn around," he told me unexpectedly as I frowned at him.

"Huh?"

He smiled as he motioned with his hand for me to do as he asked. Shrugging, I turned around, twisting my head backward to see if I could tell what he was looking for. "What?" I asked him curiously.

He explained as I turned back around, "Just checking to make sure you weren't sunburned anywhere."

"I don't feel like I am," I replied. "Am I?"

He shook his head and smiled. "No, not that I can tell."

I nodded as I let out a deep breath. "Well, it was incredibly boring up there all day," I told him. "The most exciting thing was a little girl who got lost."

"Oh, really?" he said with an eyebrow quirked at me. "That's not what I would say."

"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.

"I saw your little rescue of the stud out there earlier," he explained, clearly enjoying himself as my face turned red.

"That was NOT a 'rescue,'" I told him brusquely. "The asshole faked the whole thing. He wasn't hurt at all."

"I know," Em told me with a smile. "I noticed. Have to give him brownie points for having balls, though. Yes, he is an asshole, but he's one, damn, sexy asshole, though, wouldn't you say?"

I bristled as I placed my hands on top of my head in aggravation. The last thing I needed was to be reminded about him again; he was the only thing I could think of for the past several hours as it was. "Em, stop! I...I wasn't paying attention to that. I was just doing my job."

"I guess sucking face with him didn't allow much time for ogling up close and personal." He teased me.

My face reddened even more. "I had nothing to do with that! He did all that on his own. That was HIS idea."

He laughed at me. "You poor baby, being mauled like that. I got a good look at him when he came in earlier to buy that fancy surfboard he wiped out on. Shit, he is one fine-looking specimen of man. I wonder if he's staying at the resort?"

I sighed as I turned to head up toward said resort, my friend following along beside me; shit, I hadn't even thought about that possibility, but it was a very large resort with both suites and free-standing cottages sprinkled throughout several acres. What would be the odds of running into him, then, even if he WAS a guest? I didn't even want to think about that likelihood. "Em, can we just find another subject to talk about...please?"

"Sure thing, Sweetie," he told me with a smile as we stepped up to the wooden walkway. "Oh, by the way; I ran into your dad at lunchtime. He told me to remind you about your sister's birthday dinner this evening."

I groaned; after the long day I had experienced, the last thing I wanted was to do that. I would have much preferred to just go up to my room and collapse onto the bed after a nice, hot shower. But I knew for Molly's sake I had to go. I nodded as we entered the back patio surrounding the swimming pool. "Thanks for reminding me," I told him. "Did he say what time?"

Em nodded. "He said six-thirty downstairs in the smaller dining room."

I sighed. "Right." We entered through the back entrance to go our separate ways, Emmett having a two-room suite in the employee's wing to the left and my suite located on the right. "Well, I'd better get upstairs, then, and take a shower. Maybe I'll have time for a short nap," I replied hopefully.

He squeezed my shoulder. "Hang in there, Baby," he told me. "And when you go to bed tonight, you can dream of giving your mystery hunk some more CPR."

"Bye, Em," I told him sternly as he laughed at me. Shaking my head, I headed toward the elevators.