The Beach House

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1

Beginning of June

“This bites,” Mason Adams announced as he dropped his two bags in the middle of the living room’s hardwood floor.

He glanced around the house with a critical eye. He stood in what he thought was supposed to be the living room anyway, but he spotted no television. Just a big overstuffed couch, a coffee table, and an easy chair. There was a big stone fireplace, too. The couch and the easy chair both faced out toward a large picture window overlooking the ocean.

“It doesn’t have to bite,” his agent, Ashley Stenson, declared, entering the house after him. She closed the front door. She was a tall, thin woman with dark, wavy hair she wore softly about her shoulders. He thought she might be over six foot by an inch or two. Most straight men Mason knew considered her exotically beautiful. “Oh, it’s lovely.”

Mason decided to look for the family room or television room. Surely there had to be one somewhere. Casting a glare at Ashley, he brushed past her to tour the rest of the beach house.

The first room he came upon after a short hallway was a big, bright sunny yellow kitchen. He liked the huge size of the stainless steel refrigerator. The counters were granite and in the middle of the spacious kitchen sat a large island.

Ashley stood in the doorway. “Wow, this is one nice kitchen. I don’t even have one like this in my house.”

“All but the fridge is wasted on me. I don’t cook.” He opened the fridge. “There’s nothing in here.”

“Yes, you have to fill it with food, Mason. I’ll give you money for the grocery store later.”

Mason kicked the door closed. “I have to do my own shopping?”

“Yes, it’s what normal people do. And don’t kick the appliances. We have to pay for any damages you do while you’re here.” Ashley grabbed his hand. “Let’s see the rest of the house.”

He allowed her to lead him down another hallway. Hopefully she was taking him to where the television could be found.

“These are spare bedrooms,” she said, gesturing to an open door on either side of the hallway. “You can look at them later. There’s not much to them. They have a bathroom between them, too. If you had guests over, they could stay there, but for now, no guests.”

Mason peered into the rooms as they went by, looking for the television sets. Each room only had beds and dressers. Frowning, he followed her up a staircase at the end of the hall.

“The second floor holds the master and bath, of course. It’s above the living room and also overlooks the ocean. There’s also a laundry room up here. Great planning as far I’m concerned,” Ashley said. “And a couple more bedrooms and bathroom.”

He didn’t spot any televisions in the other two bedrooms up here either. “Is there a den or a family room?”

“No. There’s a sitting area in the master bedroom, though.”

A sitting area. Must be where the television was located.

The master was stunning, even Mason could appreciate that. The bed was a large four-poster king with a canopy, and the dresser and armoire were all in matching cherry wood. Directly to the right of the bed area were a fireplace and two overstuffed chairs along with an end table upon which a teapot and cups and saucers had been set. It reminded Mason of a model home.

“This is the sitting room area.” Ashley pointed to the chairs and fireplace. She sighed. “It’s divine. Better than I even thought from viewing the pictures.”

Across from the bed were French doors leading outside to a deck. Ashley flung open the doors and stepped outside. Mason followed her, the sea breeze grabbing his blond tresses and flinging them everywhere.

The view was breathtaking. The serene ocean waves rolled onto the sand, gulls flew overhead, and in the distance he could see the Embarcadero lined with shops and restaurants, as well as the famous rock of Morro Bay, El Morro.

He inhaled the fresh ocean air and then rubbed his bare arms. Damn, the clouds were rolling in from the sea, beginning to envelope the rock and with him wearing only a tank top and jean shorts, he was more than a little chilly.

Ashley smiled and, taking his arm, which had little goose bumps forming on it, led him back inside. “Fantastic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. But, where’s the television?”

“There isn’t one. They told me that when I rented this place.”

His jaw dropped. “What?”

“Mason, you are here to recover.”

“You expect me to stay here for three f*****g months without a television?”

Ashley shook her head. “It’s not the end of the world, honey. Let’s see how it goes. If things go well enough, maybe in a month or so, we can bring one in. There’s a movie theater on Main Street if you get too bored. You can walk there.”

“This is un-f*****g-believable.” He turned away from her, fury making him see red.

“When you came out of rehab, you agreed to my terms,” she reminded him. She took his hand and brought him to the sitting area and gently pushed him down in one of the chairs. She sat in the other. “You almost died.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” She smiled sadly. “I’m the one who found you lying in a pool of your own vomit. My heart nearly stopped. I thought you were dead.”

Mason stared at his hands, unable to look at the deep concern in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Mason. Be well. You promised me you would try. You’d lay low here, take some time for yourself, and try to live a normal life for a while.”

He let out a shaky breath and met her dark gaze. “Okay.”

She touched his cheek. “Great. Now, let’s move your stuff into this room and unpack and then I’ll take you to the grocery store for some food.”