Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series
Page 9
Chapter Nine
Sophie’s new phone rang, startling her out of her concentration. She set down the navy blue bead she’d been twisting among thin ropes of delicate silver and looked at the display, expecting Eric’s name to pop up instead of Abby’s. The kneejerk dread vanished and she smiled, remembering that she never had to answer Eric’s hourly check-ins ever again.
Abby had convinced her that she could still be a part of the twenty-first century and stay anonymous with a pay-as-you-go phone, but having one made her uneasy. Eric’s PI was relentless. It was highly unlikely he would track her down via a cell phone she could easily throw away, but if anyone could, it was his man. Dismissing the troubling thought, she answered, refusing to be a prisoner to the monster she fled. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me again. Sorry to bother you.”
Abby had called twice already this afternoon. The first time was just to chat and the second to invite her to Saturday night’s monthly girls’ get-together. She loved that Abby had thought to include her. For the first time in her life, she had an actual girlfriend. During most of her childhood she’d been too obsessed with basketball to worry over close friends. In high school and college, she’d concentrated on her education and need to bead when she wasn’t busy scoring three-pointers for her team. She’d always been content to do her own thing—her crushing shyness had demanded it be so. And she’d always had her mother. Now she had Abby to talk to and hopefully the other women she desperately wanted to get to know. “You’re not bothering me.”
“Good. I actually only have a minute. I have a meeting with Lily in five, but there’s been a little change in plans. Girls’ night isn’t going to be at Lex’s after all. I talked her out of that crazy idea. Owen’s due to arrive any second. The doctor told Lex and Jackson today that if my adorable new nephew doesn’t decide to make his debut by Monday they’re going to help things along.”
“That’s exciting.” She fiddled with her chain-nose pliers as visions of a small gift for Alexa started taking shape.
“I’m pretty pumped.”
“Do we need to reschedule?” She didn’t want to be disappointed. She was trying not to be. Alexa was terribly uncomfortable, and Olivia was eagerly awaiting her new brother.
“Nah. Morgan’s hosting instead.”
She smiled. “Okay. Where does she live?”
“Just a couple miles from Ethan and Sarah. I’ll swing by and give you a ride if you want.”
This not having a car thing was becoming inconvenient. Now that she had a bit of a life, she needed to get places and not have it take an hour. She shrugged away her frustration. The bus would be her mode of transportation for a long time coming. “I appreciate the offer.”
“Is six okay?”
“Yes. I’m still trying to decide what I should bring.” She stood, walking to the cupboards, perusing the selection of baking supplies she had on hand.
“You don’t have to bring anything.”
“Yes, I do.” She loved being creative in the kitchen. Now that she didn’t have to worry about getting everything perfectly right and approved before she could shop or make it, she enjoyed cooking and baking again. Stone certainly didn’t seem to mind.
“You’re the boss.”
She grinned at the idea. She was the boss of her own life. The utter thrill of being her own woman, of making her own choices and being able to come and go as any other adult could and did, made her giddy. “Then it’s settled. I’ll go for something sinful and chocolaty.”
“Now you’re talking. Oh, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you Saturday. Oh, Lily loves the jewelry by the way. She’s wearing the necklace and earrings right now.”
“Really?” Lily Thomas liked her work. An actual fashion mogul was wearing something she made.
“I wouldn’t make it up. Okay, I really need to hang up. Bye.”
“Bye.” She ended the call on her way back to the card table, sighing, perfectly content. Rain fell in chilly sheets and the wind blew in nasty gusts, but that didn’t dampen her spirits. She was in a warm, half-finished house doing the job she loved while beef stew simmered on the stove. She picked up the wire-wrapped bead she’d set down and attached the piece to the sterling silver fishhook, mentally rearranging tomorrow’s schedule. She’d planned on a full day of work but now that she had weekend plans, she would have to finagle. She loved that she had to finagle.
She needed to get to the bead store for more supplies, stop off at the grocer’s for ingredients for her chocolate mousse brownies, and run by the department store to pick up a few more items on her shrinking list of things for Stone’s kitchen. She’d made a huge dent after her lunch date with Abby three days ago, but there was still more to see to, and she would get it done.
She set down the second fishhook wire, now swinging with a matching dangle, and slid up the sleeves on her stylish creamy blue cardigan. She was four days into her new, quietly sleek look and she adored every second of it. The frumpy woman who fled on a borrowed bike was gone for good; the confident, professional businesswoman, which was exactly what she intended to be, was here for the long haul. She no longer wore her hair in a bun or a hoodie to go out in public. Eric would no more recognize her dressed like this than he would if she wore a cap shoved low on her head.
She glanced at her to-do list and started tidying her ever-growing workspace, worrying a bit. Eventually she was going to have to apply for a license and deal with taxes. She had too many orders coming in to ignore her responsibilities in that regard, but the risks and complications that would come with establishing her place of business diminished her sense of peace, leaving her cold. Eric would find her, and he would come.
She shuddered out a breath, barely able to tolerate the thought. She wasn’t ready to deal with him. She couldn’t be sure she ever would be, but if she took the next step she would have to. She set her assorted pliers in the ancient cloth, rolling them up tight as she did every day, reassuring herself that waiting a while longer to deal with Uncle Sam and the state of California would be fine. Right now she was too busy to deal with the headaches anyway. Everything was happening so fast. Sarah’s mother already sold the six sets she’d scrambled to put together Sunday night and Monday morning. Janice had requested a dozen more by tomorrow to have on hand for the weekend, and Hailey had reminded her via Abby that she was very interested in hosting a party at her house at the end of the month.
Business was officially hopping, as she’d hoped it would, which meant there was no way she could keep up with the demand and clean Ethan Cooke Security. That’s why she’d stopped. Luckily when she called Cecilia Sunday evening to discuss giving up her night job, Cecilia had said she would let her go immediately. There was a woman at Stowers House desperate for the position. Sophie had happily handed off her responsibilities right then and there.
She gathered her supplies, and began stacking the Tupperware she was using to stay organized on the corner of the counter when a car pulled up in the drive. It instantly put her on alert, but she relaxed when she recognized the engine of Stone’s Mustang. She took the cloth off the rolls that had been rising for the last couple hours and slid the cookie sheet into the oven as the front door opened and closed. “Supper will be ready in about fifteen minutes,” she called.
Stone walked in, his hair and polo shirt soaked and dripping, carrying something squirming in a filthy once-white t-shirt. “Hey.”
She frowned as the something yipped. “What do you have?”
He peeled back the shirt, exposing a shaking brown and black fur ball. “I found him about two miles back on the highway. I almost hit him.”
She stepped away from the pathetic, whimpering pup as he shook in Stone’s arms. “Is he hurt?”
“I don’t know. I think he’s got a few scratches, and he’s cold. I didn’t want to leave him, so I brought him home for you.”
“For me?” She took another step away, thinking of her beloved Cooper. “No. Why did you do that?”
Cooper’s shocked cry echoed in her head. “I don’t want him,” she said as the dog let loose another round of mournful whimpers, tugging at her heart. “I don’t.” She turned away, closing her eyes, fisting her hands at her sides as she saw the bat come down, smashing into the side of her dog’s head as he tried to protect her from Eric’s vicious blows. Her sweet, wonderful Cooper had flown across the room, landing with a sickening thud. She’d rushed to him, her arms swollen and bruised, the pain unbearable, holding the love of her life as he took his last breath. Cooper had been all she’d had left of her mother. She’d brought Mom the adorable, silly mutt from the pound the day before she left for college, not wanting her mother to be alone. Cooper had been the best companion, and she’d let him down in the most awful of ways. She hadn’t kept him safe.
“Fine. I’ll just bring him to the shelter.”
She whirled, glancing from the gorgeous soaking wet man to the sweet puppy with sad brown eyes. “Why—why can’t you keep him?”
“Because I work all the time, and I can’t take care of him.”
She stared at the dog, loving him already, growing angry with Stone for putting her in this position. She didn’t want to get attached to an animal she couldn’t keep. She couldn’t stay here forever. What if she had to go? But if Stone brought him to the pound, he would more than likely be euthanized.
“I’ll take him down to the pound.” Stone wrapped him back up in the filthy shirt. “Go ahead and eat without me.”
“No.” She walked to where he stood, her eyes filling with helpless tears. “Just give him to me.”
He took a step back. “You just said you don’t want him.”
“He needs a bath and a meal.” She seared Stone with a look, reaching forward, pulling the puppy and disgusting shirt out of his grip. “The rolls need to come out of the oven or they’ll burn.” She froze, realizing she’d snapped at him.
“Why are you pissed?”
“I don’t…I…” That was it? There was no slap or shove for using a disrespectful tone? She raised her chin, trying to remember that not all men hit, and Stone didn’t. It was okay to be upset and voice her frustrations. He liked it when she did. “For putting me in this position.” She turned and walked to the bathroom with the shivering pup.
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Twenty minutes later, Stone stepped through his front door for the second time, carrying a bag full of supplies for the puppy. He set the items on the chair and walked to the stove, lifting the lid on the simmering stew, groaning as he breathed in the scent, more than ready for a huge bowl. He was freezing his ass off and hungry with it. Sophie’s cooking would take care of the worst of both problems.
Her soft voice traveled from the bathroom as the water ran in the tub. He moved down the hall, grabbing a towel from the fresh pile of clean laundry, drying himself off several steps back from the doorway as he watched her gently scrub the malnourished, whimpering pup.
“We’re almost finished. You’re a filthy boy.”
The pup lapped at her chin.
She smiled. “We’ll warm you up with the hairdryer then get you some milk and send Stone out for your dinner.” She gave the puppy a final rinse and grabbed one of the huge, soft towels. “Out you come.”
She picked him up and snuggled him close, resting her cheek on top of his damp head as she moved to sit on the toilet. She was so pretty in her fancy, fitted jeans and sweater. He hadn’t missed that she’d worn makeup and fixed her hair every day since her makeover or the way she hummed while she cleaned or worked at the table, making her jewelry almost non-stop.
Having her here definitely didn’t suck. Hopefully her new four-legged friend would make her want to stick around for a while. If the thought had crossed his mind when he scooped the miserable puppy up off the side of the road, no one needed to know that but him. He probably hadn’t needed to resort to slightly underhanded tactics; it seemed like she was going to stay. She certainly had a full closet, and Janice was calling her daily with new orders. And he’d seen the ideas she’d been fiddling around with for the catalog she was putting together for Hailey’s party. If he had to guess, she had every intention of setting up shop right here in the LA-area, and he didn’t hate the prospect.
But who the hell was she? He glanced into the half-finished room she slept in, trying to remember that it didn’t matter as he eyed the backpack she kept tucked in the corner. She was settling in well enough; all of her belongings were stacked in a tidy way among the chaos of tools and sheets of drywall, but she had yet to unpack the navy blue bag. He looked back into the bathroom and walked into the bedroom as she turned on the hairdryer.
Sophie had been living in his house for almost three weeks, and he knew nothing about her. She was starting to relax around him, but she never had anything to say about herself. Typically that worked for him. For the most part he didn’t give a damn about other people, but he wanted to know something more about his roommate other than her age and birthdate. He only knew she was about to turn twenty-five on June first because he’d waited until she was too distracted to keep her guard up, then asked in his own roundabout way.
Sophie was very careful with everything she said. If she didn’t want to spill, he would find the answers on his own. He tossed a glance over his shoulder as he crouched down next to her bag, hesitating before he unzipped the surprisingly heavy backpack. She had a right to her privacy, but he had a right to know who lived in his house. Or at least saying that made his conscious feel a bit justified.
He dug into the pack, recognizing the jeans and t-shirts she’d rolled tightly, then went straight to the bottom, grabbing hold of the thick, white business envelope, whistling through his teeth as he ran his thumb over the impressive stack of bills. He spotted the Trendy magazine featuring Abby on the cover and brushed his knuckles against something cool and hard. He lifted the silver frame, staring at Sophie smiling next to a stunning black-haired woman—her mother, maybe—as they both hugged the golden retriever mix nestled between them.
He frowned, wondering why she’d gotten so huffy about the puppy. Clearly she liked dogs. He slid the frame back in place as he spotted her purse, reaching for it as the dryer shut off. He quickly zipped the bag and left the room, hurrying down to the kitchen, making himself busy. He tossed the rolls back into the oven he’d forgotten to turn off when he grabbed them out the first time and took two new pale yellow bowls from the cupboard.
Sophie murmured to the pup in her arms as she stopped in the doorway.
He turned, battling with another wave of guilt as their eyes met. “I’ll get us some food.”
“There’s a salad in the fridge,” she said with a hint of cool.
He set down the bowls. “Look, I didn’t realize bringing home a defenseless animal was going to put your back up. I said I would take him to the pound.”
“He’s not going to the pound. You and I both know what will happen to him there.” She moved to the fridge, taking out the milk and a cereal bowl from the cupboard, pouring a small amount into the bottom. She microwaved the dish for fifteen seconds, stirred the milk with her finger, and set it on the floor along with the dog. “Here you go,” she said in her soft voice as she crouched down next to the puppy’s side.
The dog sniffed and started lapping greedily.
“He’s starving. You poor thing,” she cooed, petting him in long, gentle strokes.
He leaned back against the counter, watching Sophie’s graceful fingers move along the brown and black fur. “So give him some more.”
She shook her head, keeping her eyes glued to the dog. “Just a little at a time. We don’t want to make him sick.” She stood and put on an oven mitt, grabbing the homemade rolls she’d made at some point during the day.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad. I thought you’d like having the company.”
She met his gaze, letting loose a
small sigh. “Murphy will have a good home here until I can find him a forever family.”
“Murphy?”
“Yes.” She looked down at the sleeping puppy, laughing as the exhausted dog lay by the bowl with his ear in what was left of the milk.
He stared at her, certain he would never get enough of that bright sound. “So how old do you think Murphy is?”
“Mmm. Maybe twelve or thirteen weeks. He’s going to need an appointment with the vet.”
“He’s definitely not ugly. It looks like there’s a bit of retriever and shepherd in him.”
“Yes, I think you’re right.” She grabbed up the bowl and set it in the sink. “Your clothes are still soaked. I figured you would’ve changed.”
“I went to the store.” He gestured toward the bag on the chair.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you still mad?” He didn’t want her to be. Sophie’s quiet disapproval packed a nasty punch.
“A little.” She sighed again. “Why don’t you give me your shirt, and we’ll throw it in the dryer.”
He pulled off his top, setting it in her outstretched hand, then took hold of her fingers, tugging her closer. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes softened. “Thank you for your apology. It was kind of you to stop instead of leave him there. He probably wouldn’t have lived long if you had. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
“I should’ve asked.”
“He’s here now. We’ll take good care of him until we can find him a family.”
He nodded, unable to look away from those enchanting violet eyes, wondering who the hell the sweet blond with the wad of cash was. “I’ll get the salad, then I’ll get a shirt.”
“Okay.” She smiled.
He let her go and turned toward the fridge, reminding himself that Sophie and her bagful of secrets had nothing to do with him.
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