“You’re such a romantic,” she scoffed, trying to hide her smile.

“Yeah, I know, baby.”

We headed out of town and southeast along the coastal road, burning out of Pisa and racing south. I felt good—more than good; I’d been given a fresh chance and I was going to make the most of it.

With Caro’s arms wrapped me, I felt like I could conquer the world. And if things went the way they could in Afghanistan, I might have to. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. I still had 10 days of leave left—I was going to make the most of it.

The campsite Caro had found was just an hour from Pisa, outside the village of Polveroni, and right by the ocean. And there were waves. Holy hell, the Mediterranean had surf—three to four feet of clean lines rolling up onto a beach break. I’d have gone body surfing and been stoked, but that bitch lady luck was with me today—and I saw a shop with boards to rent.

“Game on!”

Caro laughed as I almost sprinted inside, for once leaving her to stow the helmets by herself.

The owner looked up as I came in.

“Buon giorno! Can I rent a longboard for the day?”

“Si, signore! I got seven footers and eight footers—what do you need?”

Usually, I’d have taken the seven footer, but I suddenly had the urge to get Caro on a board with me. Ten years ago we’d caught some waves together—I wanted to do it again, this time knowing that she was mine and nothing could take her away from me.

I bought a huge beach towel and a pair of boardshorts, wincing at the bright Hawaiian pattern. I knew Caro would bust my balls about that.

“We don’t have a tent; do you rent rooms, too?” I asked.

I really liked the idea of spending the day surfing, the evening fucking, and the night listening to the waves break on the beach.

The owner grinned at me. “Sure, I have one cabin I rent out. It’s my brother’s, but he’s away. It’s small, but it has a bathroom. The bed is large,” he said, and winked at me. “You can use it. Thirty Euros?”

As soon as Caro saw me, she honed in on the boardshorts, a vomit-inducing red, orange, yellow and lime green.

“Hey, Marine! You’re in danger of doing color!” she laughed

I grinned back at her.

“Yeah, well, it was all they had. Either that or I’d have to do it in the nude. What do you think, Caro, naked surfing?”

“It could catch on, or you could get arrested. But I’m telling you, Sebastian, if you do get arrested and I don’t get laid tonight, I’m going to be mighty pissed at you.”

I grinned at her stern expression.

“Now you’re talking. By the way, the guy in the shop said that he rents out rooms. He said it’s pretty basic—just a big, old bed and a small bathroom. But I thought it would be kind of cool to be able to hear the waves tonight. Is that okay?”

“Very okay,” she smiled.

The day was going great, but then I saw the ugly as fuck swimsuit that Caro was holding. Seriously? My girl was gonna wear a granny suit in dark blue?

“Wait, that’s what you’re going to wear?” No fucking way!

“Yes,” she said, a puzzled expression on her face. “Why?”

“Stay here,” I commanded.

I headed back to the beach shop and the owner looked surprised to see me back so soon.

“Hey, I need a bikini for my girlfriend.”

“Sure, we have several,” and he pointed at a rack in the corner.

I picked out something that I knew she would look hot in—and something I was looking forward to taking off of her later.

I jogged back outside, pleased with the fifty Euros I’d just spent.

“Here. Wear this.”

Caro’s mouth dropped open, a look of horror on her face as I passed her the bikini. Admittedly there wasn’t a lot of it…

“I can’t wear that, Sebastian,” she gasped. “There’s nothing to it! I’m forty, not twenty!”

I wanted to roll my eyes at that comment—I didn’t.

“You’ll look amazing, Caro. I want every guy on the beach to know how hot my woman is.”

“I may as well go topless!”

“Yeah, baby.”

She shook her head, but her eyes were saying yes. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy in love,” I agreed, scooping her into a kiss that rapidly became heated.

“Fine, I’ll wear it,” she said breathlessly when I put her down.

Damn straight!

I held up the beach towel while she changed, taking a few sneaky glances. She was so preoccupied with not being seen by anyone else on the beach that she didn’t even notice. She tugged at it a few times, trying to cover up a little more, but there was a reason I’d picked out that swimsuit.

“I can’t wait to take that off you,” I whispered into her ear.

She gave me a half smile.

“Sex or surfing, Sebastian?”

“Sex,” I said at once. No brainer.

Her cheeks pinked up, but then she laughed and shook her head.

“Well, you’ll have to take a rain check—we haven’t booked that room for the night yet. And I’ve warned you what will happen if you get arrested.”

“You owe me a lot of rain checks, Caro. I’m going to enjoy cashing them in.”

Giving her a look that told her I always collected a debt, I yanked off my t-shirt, enjoying the way her eyes tracked across my chest and stomach, then I dropped my jeans and briefs, standing buck naked in the sunshine.

“Sebastian!” she hissed, glancing around to see if anyone was watching—but not before she’d taken a long look herself. Oh yeah, my woman loved to look.

But I’d already pulled on my boardshorts by the time her eyes flicked back to me. I laughed at her surprised expression.

“Years of practice changing out of my wetsuit in windswept parking lots along Sunset Cliffs, Caro,” I explained. “I’ll show you how quick I can get out of my clothes now if you like?”

I wasn’t joking and she knew it.

“Go. Surf,” she commanded.

I pulled off my dog tags and placed them around her neck, and fuck me if it wasn’t the biggest turn on, the way they nestled between her breasts.

“Here—look after these for me.” I took a deep breath and dragged my eyes up to meet hers. “Those look hot on you, Caro. Really fucking hot.”

She fingered the small pieces of metal, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. That finished me, so I pulled her into my arms, kissing her thoroughly, dipping her so low her hair brushed across the sand. Then I stood her back on her feet, holding on until she stopped swaying. She shook her head in amusement, but I didn’t miss her slight breathlessness or the heat in her eyes.

I winked at her, scooped up the rented board and jogged down to the water’s edge.

The ocean had always been my safe place—away from my parents, away from school, or work, or whatever was weighing on my mind. When I was 17 and Caro came back into my life, the beach became our place, away from prying eyes and the judgment of the world. And when she left me, the ocean was the place I came to remember and to forget. Catching waves, being one with the water, whatever bullshit reason you wanted to make up, the ocean gave me peace, because when you’re catching a wave, you don’t have the time or space to think of anything else. In that sense, it’s a bit like sex. Fuck knows what Freud would have said if he met me.

When Fido was killed by an IED, I’d been in the south of Iraq and couldn’t get home for his repatriation and funeral. So on my next leave, I’d organized a paddle-out with a few of my buddies and the guys who’d known him. He’d have liked that.

Today was the first chance I’d had to surf in over a year. I’d missed it. Being in a dump like Afghanistan, surrounded by nothing but deserts and death, Stone Age villages, and women hidden away, the ocean seemed like a dream from another world.

I surfed for an hour, reveling in the freedom, the salt spray in my face and the sun on my body. Every now and then I’d look back at the beach, checking on my girl, watching her relax in the sunshine.