Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series

by Cate Beauman

  Hesitating, she almost stopped but kept moving his way. He must not have seen her after all. She weaved around a couple of Stone’s coworkers and stopped at his side.

  Amber made eye contact, giving her a small smile. “Hi.”

  “Um, hi.” She crossed her arms in the sudden awkward silence, looking from Stone to Amber, feeling as if she were intruding.

  “Hey.” Stone didn’t smile, nor did his voice warm as he spoke. There was no kiss as he hooked his arm around her waist and continued his conversation. “It’s early.” He took another easy sip from his beer. “The Dodgers aren’t out of the running yet.”

  “That’s optimism if I’ve ever heard it.”

  She swallowed the wave of hurt, staring down at the deck, absorbing Stone’s nasty slap of indifference. She’d eagerly awaited his homecoming from the moment he left, and he stood next to her as if he could take her or leave her.

  “Hey, Sophie.” Shane walked up, smiling, his stunning green eyes reflecting in the bright sunshine.

  She tried to smile. “Hi.”

  “How are things going over on Rodeo Drive?”

  “Good, thank you.” She did her best to keep her voice steady. “It was nice seeing you again, Shane. If you’ll excuse me.” She pulled herself out of Stone’s hold, looking into the dark lenses of his glasses, and went in the house, picking up her purse she’d set on the counter. “I’ll be right back,” she mumbled, making her way out the front door before anyone stopped her and hurried down to the driveway, grabbing the keys from inside her bag. “Murphy, come,” she called.

  He hesitated, then came running, jumping into the front seat as she opened the car door.

  “Let’s go home.” She took her seat, glanced at Stone’s Mustang, then turned over the engine and drove away, sniffling as her eyes filled. Apparently she and Stone wouldn’t be figuring things out anytime soon. Maybe he didn’t want to.

  Shaking her head, confused, she zigzagged her way through the backstreets of the Palisades and turned on Highway One. Tuesday night he’d taken her to bed, telling her how good they were together. Now he couldn’t even look at her, let alone talk to her. Maybe standing by her side was proving to be too much trouble. Perhaps her problems with Eric were more than he could or was willing to handle.

  I’m all in. His words echoed through her head as she let loose a humorless laugh. “Stupid, stupid Sophie,” she muttered, repeating one of Eric’s most favorite lines. She’d fallen in love with a man who’d promised her a year of his life, and he was ready to bail after a month. Stone had assured her he could stick out their farce of a marriage, but clearly he’d changed his mind, which he had every right to do.

  Minutes later, she pulled off the highway, sighing as she glanced in her rearview mirror. She spotted David’s white Toyota turning into the parking spot several yards back by the beach and ignored it. She took the road to the cliff, speeding slightly around the curves, at her wits’ end. Enough was enough.

  “Come on, Murphy.” Hurrying into the house, she changed into her running clothes, needing to rid herself of the sickening feeling she hadn’t been able to shake. “Should we run?”

  Murphy barked.

  “I agree.” They were going to run until she could think again and didn’t feel like crying anymore. “Let’s go, Murph.” She locked up behind her, making her way over the walking bridge at a jog, hoping the breeze and sound of the waves might soothe her as Stone’s arms hadn’t back on Ethan and Sarah’s deck.

  ~~~~

  Stone glanced toward the glass sliders, as he’d done several times since Sophie went inside, hoping she would come back out. The door slid open again while Amber went on and on about the virtues of her beloved Marlins. He swallowed another sip of beer, burying his disappointment when Kylee and Olivia stepped on the deck instead of his wife.

  He’d been a jerk when Sophie tried to say hello several minutes ago. She’d looked so damn beautiful in her long green dress, walking his way as the sun glistened off her soft, creamy skin. She sent him one of her shy smiles, the irresistible kind where she peeked up from under her long lashes as she tossed him a hesitant wave, and he’d simply lost his breath, which pissed him off. He didn’t want her to knock him flat every time he saw her. Four days in Spain was supposed to have lessened her hold on him—and he thought it had.

  During the endless flight home, he’d convinced himself he was done with her. He was sick of the sleepless nights and useless arguments. He was finished with compromising his needs, because Sophie wouldn’t deal with her past. If she wanted to stay married to him and cash in on her grandmother’s trust, she was going to have to choose: finally deal with Eric with the help he was offering, or take her chances on her own. He refused to dance on some fucker’s puppet strings because she wanted to look the other way. It was Eric or him.

  Then he saw her in their bed last night, asleep in her pink tank top by the pale light of the lamp on her side table, and his resolve started to crumble. When she walked out on the deck half an hour ago, making him ache with need, he knew she could make him crawl. Giving her the cold shoulder when he’d wanted to grab her up and hold her close had been his attempt at showing her and himself that no one brought him to his knees, not even Sophie.

  Now, he leaned against the railing in the warm Pacific breeze, yearning for the woman he wished he could cast aside, knowing he was completely sunk. In mere months the violet-eyed beauty had done to him what he thought no one ever would: She’d made him fall deeply and desperately in love. As he’d held her loosely against him, breathing her in and doing his best to ignore her, he knew there would be no ultimatums. He couldn’t walk away from her even if he wanted to. He and Sophie were in this thing for the long haul.

  His gaze followed the Matthews and Cookes’ spitfire daughters around the deck as they held something up for everyone to see. They started his way, and Kylee tapped his arm.

  “Hi, Stone,” she interrupted Amber.

  “Hey.”

  “Do you like it?” She and Olivia held up their wrists.

  He crouched down, instantly recognizing Sophie’s work. “What have you got?”

  “Charm bracelets,” Olivia said. “Sophie made them.”

  “She did, did she?” He set his beer on the wood, twisting their arms gently from side to side, studying the pink and purple doodads hanging from the thick silver chain. “Looks good.”

  “Sophie’s your wife,” Kylee told him.

  “I heard something about that.”

  “She’s a very nice sharer,” Olivia smiled.

  “She makes good bracelets,” Kylee added. “And she’s pretty.”

  He grinned. These two certainly had their fair share of charm. “I can’t argue with you there.” He let their arms go, looking into bright, excited eyes. Sophie was crazy busy with everything going on, yet she’d found the time to make two little girls’ day by bringing them bracelets. She was kind and sweet, and he a first-rate asshole. “I think I should go inside and tell her I got to see your pretty jewelry.”

  “She’s not here,” Kylee offered.

  He frowned. “She’s not?”

  Olivia shook her head. “She got her purse, and now she’s gone.”

  “Do you know when she left?”

  “Mmm, I think maybe five hours ago.” Olivia said, glancing at Kylee, who nodded her agreement.

  He raised his brow at their skewed sense of time and stood, sighing, remembering the wounded look in Sophie’s eyes as she turned and walked away. “I should probably go find her and keep her company.”

  “Okay. Bye.” They ran off, stopping in front of Shane, tapping his arm.

  “I’m heading out,” he interrupted Amber as she opened her mouth to speak again.

  She set down her glass of wine. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to find Sophie. Later.” He tossed his half-empty bottle in the recycle bin on his way down the deck stairs, bypassing the gabfest sure to be going on in the kitche
n, and walked around to the front of the house, noting that Sophie’s car definitely wasn’t here. Steaming out a breath, he got in his Mustang and drove toward the cliffs, trying to figure out how he and Sophie could finally put an end to their issues with Winthrop once and for all. But their problems with Eric would have to wait until after he apologized for being a dick this afternoon.

  Minutes later he pulled into the drive, getting out as Sophie turned the corner of the house, sweat soaked and flushed, carrying a panting Murphy in her arms. He shut his door, and her eyes darted to his as he walked her way. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” she said quietly, looking down as she continued passed him, unlocking the door and laying Murphy in his bed.

  He followed her inside. “You ditched the party.”

  “I had stuff to do.” She started down the hall.

  “I was a jerk.”

  She shrugged her shoulders on the way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her when she got there.

  He sighed, clenching his jaw, ready to wait her out. “Screw this.” He’d waited five damn days to patch things up; they weren’t leaving it like this for one more second. He hustled down the hall after her, swinging the door open as she peeled off her exercise bra. “Soph—”

  “Excuse me.” She covered herself, frowning.

  “I was an ass. I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged for the second time, tossing him the same wounded look she’d sent him on Ethan’s deck. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Yeah, it is. I wish you wouldn’t have left.”

  She pulled the elastic from her hair, sending a cascade of blond to her shoulders. “I didn’t want to stay.”

  Damn, he needed her. He settled his fingers in the edges of his pockets, afraid he would reach for her when she wasn’t ready to be touched. “I don’t blame you.”

  She twisted on the water, one arm still covering her breasts. “I need to shower.

  “Soph—”

  “I don’t like the way things are between us,” she blurted out, toeing off her shoes and socks, holding his gaze.

  “I don’t either.”

  “I don’t like that we never see each other anymore.”

  “I agree.”

  “I miss the way things used to be.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I’m not thinking.”

  “You didn’t call me back,” her voice tightened as it quieted again.

  He nodded with the wave of guilt. “I know.”

  “You didn’t wake me up when you got home.”

  “I should have.”

  “You, you—” She shook her head as she pulled down her shorts and panties.

  He grabbed her arm before she stepped into the shower. “I what?”

  “You hurt me.” Her lips trembled as she blinked back tears.

  How had he thought, even for a second, that he could let her go? “I know I did.” He stepped closer. “I’m sorry, Soph.”

  “I just want—” She swiped at a tear. “I just want this sick feeling in my stomach to go away.” Another tear fell.

  He dried her cheek with his thumb, kissing her temples and her forehead, wanting to soothe her. He stroked her jaw, needing her. “So let’s make it go away.”

  She gripped his wrists, holding his gaze.

  He touched his lips to hers. “Let’s make it go away, Soph,” he whispered against her mouth.

  Her eyes fluttered closed as she responded to his kiss.

  He plundered, cupping her face in his hands, consumed by her flavor he’d starved without. “God, I missed you.” He went back for more as she slid urgent palms up his arms and over his shoulders, then pulled the kerchief from his head, brushing her fingers through his hair.

  “I missed you too.”

  He slipped out of his flip-flops and took off his shirt and jeans.

  “These too.” She tugged the boxers away.

  He smiled, then expelled a long breath when she wrapped her hand around him. “Soph,” he groaned. “Soph.” He pulled her with him into the warm stream of water, kissing her neck and breasts as he trailed his fingers down her wet belly, slipping them inside of her, making her gasp as he moved in the rhythm he knew would send her over, capturing her lips once again.

  She moaned into his mouth, leaning against the wall, clutching him tighter while he kept his pace steady. “Stone. Stone.” She tipped her head back, her breathing rapid, her body tensing, shuddering as her cry echoed in the small, steamy room.

  He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around him as he sat on the tiled bench. Twin groans escaped them as she took him in, rocking her hips slowly. Staring into her eyes, he pushed himself deeper and wrapped his arms around her waist, lost in the pleasure they brought each other so easily. He kissed her tenderly. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

  “No more fighting,” she agreed, hooking her arms around the back of his neck, pressing their chests together.

  He gripped her ass cheeks, moving her up and down, grinding, craving to fill her.

  Whimpering, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders as she built, climaxing on a long moan, never taking her eyes from his.

  He clenched his jaw, resting his forehead against her as he gripped her closer, thrusting, finally exploding with a loud groan. Breath heaving, he slid the wet hair away from her forehead, content for the first time in over a week.

  “I like this,” she said quietly, stroking his cheek. “Nothing else matters when you and I are together like this.”

  He took her hand, kissing her knuckles, swamped with the desire to be tender. “We can do it again.”

  She smiled, grabbing the soap, washing his chest and arms. “I’ll never say no.”

  He took the bar from her, sliding it over her breasts and stomach, moving to her thighs. “How about dinner first? No phones, no work—just you and me.”

  She nodded, scrubbing shampoo through her hair. “I’ll never say no to that either.”

  He brushed soapy hands over her back. “What are we making?”

  She rinsed out the suds before adding conditioner. “There’s not much.”

  “I guess we’ll make do with what we find.” He stood, setting her on her feet, and finished cleaning himself, knowing they’d solved nothing over the last several minutes. Eric still hung over their heads, but he could let it go for now. They desperately needed an easy night together.

  “I want to eat and watch a movie on the couch,” she said, rinsing her hair for the second time.

  “Funny how things have been off between us when we both want the same things.”

  “Let’s get out and I’ll start dinner.”

  “I’m going to help.” He twisted off the water, kissing her.

  She nodded, smiling. “Okay.”

  Half an hour later, he and Sophie lay on the couch, her head resting on his chest while he polished off the last bite of his turkey sandwich, grinning as they watched The Heat. He slid his hand up and down her naked stomach, stopping at the edge of her bra, making his way to the hem of her shorts as she laughed at Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy interviewing their unfortunate suspect. Chuckling, he kissed her temple, smiling when she glanced up. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer, savoring the sense of complete contentment. Laying here was perfectly right. It had been too damn long since they did this.

  His cell phone rang on the coffee table, and he clenched his jaw, resenting the intrusion. He was tempted to let the call go to voicemail, but tipped the screen, glancing at the readout. Jeremiah Trombley. Son of a bitch.

  Sophie saw the readout as well and sat up, pulling away from him. “Why is he calling here again?”

  He steamed out a breath, noting her instantly tense shoulders and guarded eyes. Jeremiah had shitty timing. “Hold on.” He answered. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Stone. I just heard back from Eric’s attorney in regards to the letter we drafted him Wednesday. He assures me Eric doesn’t know what we’re talking about. He’s denying any
involvement with beer bottles, sushi, music playing in the parking garage, and the PI.”

  “Of course he is.”

  “He can only send his regrets that Sophie’s having trouble.”

  Fucking bastard. He bunched his hand in a fist, burning with rage. “How sweet.”

  “You’re going to need to start documenting. I’ve sent off a friendly follow-up to the conversation we had a couple of minutes ago—we’ll keep a solid paper trail, but we’re going to need some proof on your end if you plan to pursue this: photos if you see the PI hanging around, calling the cops and filing reports if there are any more beer bottles or music in parking garages. If he calls, make sure to save the number and let me know right away.”

  He knew the procedure. Now he needed to convince Sophie to get on board and help him stop this bullshit. “I’ll get on it. Thanks for checking in.”

  “Have a good night.”

  He looked at Sophie again, her frosty eyes staring at him, highly doubting it. “Thanks.” He ended the call, scratching at his head. Not even an hour’s reprieve... It was time to hash this out once and for all and move on.

  “I thought we were leaving that alone.”

  “You thought we were leaving it alone.”

  She stood. “What did you do?”

  “I had Jeremiah send Eric’s attorney a letter letting him know we want Eric to knock it off with the pictures and other shit.”

  “When?”

  “While I was waiting to board my flight to Europe.”

  She crossed her arms. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “You don’t seem interested in doing anything about it.”

  “You’re right, I don’t.” She paced from the coffee table to the television and back. “You don’t know him the way I do. He’s just going to continue because he knows it’s bothering me—or you in this case. You should’ve talked to me first.”

  “The way you talked to me about the whole thing in the first place?”

  She whirled. “This is exactly why I didn’t.”