Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

street wouldn't be paradise compared to this hellhole!"
    Shane's hand stole up to his jaw remembering the bruise that he had worn for almost 2 weeks after that conversation. His father's fist had lashed out faster than a cobra striking its prey. His sainted father's way of ending every argument was to hit…hit hard.
    Shane closed his eyes as he struggled against the sadness that threatened to overwhelm him. He refused to shed one more tear over that bastard. After his mother had died, the father he knew seemed to die right along with her. At the age of 13, Shane had been freshly out and angrily defiant about it. His mother had been his lifeline…his anchor in a sea of confusing emotions and desires. And then she was gone. Cancer that had been left undetected for far too long stole her from their arms like a thief in the night, and the light had gone out in his father's eyes and shriveled his soul.
    Shane rubbed at the tears threatening to spill from his eyes and took another sip of his drink. Getting drunk seemed like a good idea right about now! On top of all that, right before he had left for the ocean side resort, his friend Ryan had informed him that he was not going to be able to hire him to work in his tattoo parlor. For as long as he could remember he had wanted to work with Ryan. He was, simply put, the most amazing artist Shane had ever known.
    They'd met during their third year at college. Ryan was already working part time in a parlor across town and offered to show Shane the ropes. He became Shane's first crush. Oh sure Shane had lusted after other guys but never before had he felt the world tilt quite like it did when Ry walked in the door.
    Unfortunately Ryan's heart was already taken by Tom, the store's owner, leaving Shane to often wonder what life might have been like had he been the one to put that light in his friend's eyes. By the time Shane had finished his apprenticeship, his sketchbook was full of drawings that he had hoped one day to preserve in ink and they were good…damn good. Hell, his own back was a testament to his artistic talent. But the recession had hit small business owners hard and Tom and Ryan simply couldn't afford to hire another artist right now.
    So with the loss of his dream job as a tattoo artist down the drain, he was licking his wounds and still trying to figure out a way to turn down the job his father had offered to him. Graphic designer. A euphemism for computer hack! Somewhere in the back of his mind Shane knew that it was unfair to think like that but still the crushing weight he felt wrap around his soul every time he contemplated working a 9 to 5 job in an office left him feeling claustrophobic.
    The very thought of no longer pursuing his dream fed his feelings of failure and left him with a sense of hopelessness. But he knew that if he went home and told his old man that he was turning down lucrative employment, his ass would be handed to him on a platter. Every way he turned the future looked more and more dismal. Yeah, getting drunk was looking better and better all the time.
    Shane was pulled away from his depressing thoughts by the sound of running feet across the patio. He looked up just in time to see a flash of red trunks and long, muscular legs as they flew by in front of him. Standing up to see if he could figure out the reason for all the activity on the beach below, Shane caught his first full glimpse of the man who was attached to those legs. He stood just a little taller than Shane's 6 feet. His lean muscled body was tanned a golden brown from the sun and his hair was blond, almost golden. As the man stopped and pivoted round to look back at the patio, Shane caught a glimpse of stunning blue eyes. Without a doubt, Shane had never seen such a beautiful man.
    As he stood watching, the reason for all the running and commotion became clear. Someone had gotten pulled under the pounding surf and was being rescued by a second lifeguard, already in the ocean. The blond man began to help the other guard who was now struggling to pull a prone figure from the crashing waves. Shane found himself stumbling toward the shoreline to watch the drama unfold.
    "Jaime, grab her feet and let's get her further up on the beach away from the surf."
    So that was the blond man's name. Jaime. Shane let it roll off his tongue as he watched the two men carry the unconscious woman straight toward the area where he had stopped. As they rushed toward him, he found himself pedaling