Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss)

by Robin Bielman

  She lifted his T-shirt with her free hand. “You covered my back with this.”

  “I didn’t want you to get sunburned. I figured you put sunscreen on your legs, but not your back.”

  “Thank you.” She blinked up at him with soft, appreciative eyes that made him ache to sweep her into his arms.

  “Not a problem.” He took the shirt from her outstretched arm and pulled it over his head.

  She stepped into her shorts and pulled them up her slim legs. His eyes tracked up the length of velvety fair skin and settled on the slight flare of her hips as her hands zipped and buttoned the clothing. She bent to pick up her shirt, rewarding him with a very fine shot of her ass. Her eyes widened as she straightened. He’d been caught checking her out.

  Normally that didn’t bother him.

  But with Sophie, he wasn’t just giving her the once-over, not if the twinge in his chest was any indication.

  He grabbed their towels and avoided further eye contact. He felt like a damn teenager, confused and constantly turned on.

  “Your knee okay?” he asked after they’d taken a few steps, the sun at their back, miles of sand and unpeopled ocean in front of them.

  “It’s a little sore, but better than it was before. So is this beach really always this empty? It’s so beautiful I can’t imagine people don’t flock here. Especially this time of year.”

  “It’s difficult to get to, so yeah.”

  She made a face. “You’re not telling me something.”

  How did she know that? “The road we took is private, so unless someone knows another way to get down here, things stay quiet.”

  “Private meaning cars will get ticketed and towed if they’re caught parked where we are?”

  “Probably not, but people don’t know that. Beaches are all public, as is most access, so there’s plenty of shoreline that’s easy for beachgoers.”

  “You own the road, don’t you?”

  Smart girl. “Yes.”

  “The older woman I saw walking when we got here. Was she someone—”

  “My mom’s next-door neighbor.”

  “That’s nice,” she said with a thoughtful tone of voice that did something funny to the pit of his stomach.

  They hopped in the car and talked about random stuff on the way to his mom’s. The conversation flowed with ease.

  “This is my first time out of Montana and driving in a convertible, too,” she said.

  “Well, I’ve never been to Montana.”

  She smiled. “I guess you mostly stick to places near an ocean.”

  “Yeah. Open water is definitely attached to my well-being. I need to see it. Be close to it.” Although a picture of Sophie standing atop some mountain, sunlight bathing her in perfect light, wildflowers at her feet, flashed through his mind.

  “Someone, I can’t remember who, once said Montana should come with a surgeon general warning that it’s addictive. The sky is big and blue, and the air is always fresh and crisp and scented with pine. There’s a frontier spirit, but also a calmness, beauty in the landscape that slows your pulse.”

  “You love it there.”

  “I do.” She kept talking, filling him in on her favorite places, gesturing with her hands when she got really amped up about something and barely taking a breath between sentences.

  He could listen to her talk all day.

  “Teach me a few surf words,” she said, turning and tucking one leg under the other.

  The fact that she’d grown so comfortable with him and not asked him to teach her had a big smile spreading across his face. With her sweet-as-sin voice and enthusiasm for just about everything, he didn’t mind being told what to do. His mind raced to demands she might make in the bedroom.

  “Like what’s a brohah?” she said. “I heard it yesterday.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, but a few unruly red strands flew around her face. She kept swiping at them, which he found damn cute.

  “A brohah is a dude or guy.”

  She nodded and stared at him, waiting for more.

  “Uh, fibro means surfboard. Chocka means cool or awesome. Doke means unbelievable or crazy.”

  “Fibro, chocka, doke,” she whispered. “What else?”

  “Noodled is what you were today.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Exhausted.”

  “I’m not anymore. Go on.”

  “The rear of a board is called the tail. And if I call you Sheila, it means I think you’re chocka.” He slowed the car as they entered his old neighborhood.

  Sophie’s eyes darted around the car like she was trying to recall what chocka was, and then she grinned. “Thank you.” She settled back into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, the smile staying on her face.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He parked the car in front of his childhood home, the familiar tangle of nerves settling deep in his gut. Under this roof, the harsh words his dad had rattled off on a regular basis always came flooding back.

  “Zane!” His sister ran out the front door and greeted him the second he and Sophie started up the walkway. Her arms went around his waist and she held on tight. He squeezed back tighter. Eight months was too damn long to go without seeing her. “I’ve missed you,” she mumbled into his chest.

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Julia let go and put her hand out to Sophie. “Hi, I’m Julia.”

  “Sophie. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Sophie’s running the film festival and had a little time to spare today. It’s her first time to California so I thought—”

  “You’d show off our coastline?” Julia narrowed her eyes and gave her trademark smart-aleck smile. “Or something else?”

  His baby sister’s good mood relaxed the muscles getting a workout in his neck and shoulders since he and Sophie had left the beach.

  “Oh, we’re not…” Sophie started to say, her cheeks turning pink.

  “I’m here to talk about you, little sister, not me. What happened this morning?”

  The light in her eyes faded some. “Come on, Mom’s waiting out back with lunch. Mark had to head to work, but he says hi and he’s sorry he missed you.” She linked her arm with his. “We’ll fill you in while we eat.”

  “Tell your husband-to-be I said thanks for taking care of you.”

  Julia smiled, and they moved quickly through the house, Zane grateful to spend as little time as possible inside the four walls. The second his mom saw him walk out the patio door, her face brightened. “Hey you,” she said, coming around the glass table with her arms outstretched. Her blond hair was shorter and she looked a little thinner, but eyes still sharp and the same color as his swept over him.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  She put her hands on his cheeks and looked her motherly fill before giving him a hug. “It’s been too long.” He didn’t dare move a muscle, happy to let her hug the life out of him if she wanted to. They may talk and text often, but that didn’t mean his mom didn’t need the real thing in front of her.

  Mom stepped back and turned to Sophie. “You must be Sophie.”

  Sophie shot him a surprised glance. He’d texted his mom early this morning to give her the heads-up and tell her not to read anything into it.

  “Hi, Mrs. Hollander. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Please, call me Claire.”

  “Claire.” Sophie smiled at his mom. A genuine, companionable smile that Zane didn’t see very often—if ever—from the women he spent time with. No ulterior motive, no forgery, just the real deal.

  “Come sit. I’ve made all of Zane’s favorites.”

  “This looks wonderful.” Sophie took the seat next to him at the round table under the oversize blue umbrella. “And the view is amazing.” She looked out toward the sea close enough to be wet in in less than a minute. “Thank you. I’m sorry if we’ve kept you waiting. It’s my fault. We stopped at the beach and I fell asleep.”

  His mom and sister gave him identical looks, their mouths screwe
d up, eyebrows arched. But this lunch wasn’t about him whatsoever, and he needed to know what was going on with his sister.

  “What happened at the doctor’s?” he asked, lifting the plate of pesto pasta and handing it to Sophie.

  Julia took a deep breath and handed him the bowl of strawberries and blueberries. “I’m going to have surgery in three weeks. They’ll remove my entire thyroid. After that I’ll wait a few weeks and then have a radioactive iodine treatment to kill any remaining thyroid tissue.”

  “Iodine treatment?” Zane asked.

  “It’s a pill I swallow. Easy peasy.”

  “And you’ll be cured after that?”

  “Most cases are, yes.” Julia looked him straight in the eyes when she spoke, knowing, no doubt, that he needed nothing but honesty from her. They’d always been each other’s sounding board and rock. Julia, though, she’d been so much more when they were kids. She’d put him on a pedestal when he thought he’d be better off with the ground swallowing him.

  “Let me know the date and I’ll be here.”

  “I’d really like that.” She rubbed at the corner of her eye. A split-second gesture that crammed his heart against his chest. “Having you, Mom, and Mark there means everything.”

  “The American Cancer Society offers a lot of different types of support,” Sophie said, her hands in her lap, her posture straight. “I volunteer with my local group back home and they’re great. I could help you get in touch with the local chapter here if you want.”

  His mom spread her arms, one reaching into Sophie’s lap and covering her hands, the other taking Julia’s hand atop the table. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

  “Thank you,” Julia echoed.

  “How are the wedding plans going?” Zane asked, hoping to steer the conversation to a happier topic now.

  Those magic words turned the conversation on its head, and for the next twenty minutes, the estrogen at the table almost choked the life out of him. So he tuned most of it out, preferring instead to concentrate on the delicate slope of Sophie’s neck. The freckles across her cute nose. The soft, messy tumble of light red hair and the melodious sound of her laughter.

  “I wish I had more time to spend here. I would’ve loved to see your studio. The only things I can draw are hearts and flowers,” Sophie said.

  “A girl’s staple,” Julia replied. She threw a strawberry at him, pulling his gaze away from Sophie. “You’re awfully quiet over there, big brother. How about I tell Sophie about the drawings you made when you were younger?”

  Zane ground his teeth together. Graffiti. He’d done a little of that and wasn’t proud of it. “Not if you don’t want me to dump you in the ocean.”

  “Like you could still do that.”

  “That’s okay,” Sophie piped in. “Zane already has all the attributes I think I can handle.” She sank down in her seat and closed her eyes for a beat longer than a normal blink. “I mean what all girls could handle. You know, since he’s got the professional athlete thing going on. Add in that he’s funny and smart and kind and I’m rambling so I’m just going to be quiet now. Or actually use the bathroom.” She stood, her cheeks redder than the strawberry his sister had just thrown at him. “Could someone point me in the right direction?”

  “I’ll take you,” Julia said, popping to her feet and taking Sophie by the arm.

  “Julia,” Zane warned.

  “What? I’m taking my friend to the bathroom.”

  Her friend. He liked the sound of that. He just plain liked. Everything. Not good, dude.

  “So,” his mom said when they were alone.

  Nothing good ever followed “so.” “So,” he repeated.

  “You’ve never brought a girl home with you before. Not that I’m complaining. I’m glad you haven’t brought home the usual type of woman I see you pictured with. But Sophie—”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Oh, it’s something.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Sophie’s not one of your beach bunnies. She’s much more. Inside and out. And I think you know it, too.”

  “What I know is I’m here for a film festival and then I head to Tahiti and after that Bali and France. Sophie’s here for the festival and then she goes back home to Montana.”

  “Touchy,” his mom teased.

  Shit. He was. Somehow this woman he’d known for only a few days had gotten under his skin and wiggled her way to a place no one had reached before.

  His mom moved a piece of hair off his forehead. “You’ve been to those places many times.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ve never been to Montana.”

  “Are you trying to play matchmaker?” he said, surprised. She’d always stayed out of his love life. Even when he’d still lived at home and fooled around with more girls than he could remember, she’d never said a word.

  “Nope. Only trying to get that mind of yours to stay open.”

  He shrugged. Yes, he liked hanging out with Sophie, liked the unanticipated need in his gut when he looked at her, but he had no desire for anything to go beyond this week. So no way would he be a jerk and give in to the growing demand that he touch her, taste her.

  This week was about improving his image, not ruining it further by taking advantage of Sophie. Or worse, hurting her.

  Chapter Six

  Sophie stood a ways back from the crowd and swayed back and forth to the beachy tunes, unable to stop her body from moving to the uplifting beat. Honor’s shoulder brushed hers when they leaned opposite ways, and the constant reminder of friendship kept Sophie warm as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

  Her very first concert right on the beach, and it was amazing. Cool sand underneath her bare feet, waves undulating in the background, palm trees swaying, hundreds of people dancing, long strings of white lights crisscrossing over the audience…she’d dreamed this, and now it was real.

  The local band playing tonight slowed it down, and Sophie watched couples relax their tempo and wrap their arms around each other. Honor sighed.

  Sophie did, too, her thoughts spiraling back to Zane and their time together in the ocean that morning. How he’d looked at her like she was a mermaid or something. Like he’d never seen her kind before and enjoyed it. He’d put his hand on her lower back when they left his mom’s house. Opened the car door for her. Stopped at a tiny little candy store and insisted on buying her a bag of old-fashioned taffy, which he adorably ate more than half of on the drive back.

  “You’re thinking about him again,” Honor said.

  “What?” Sophie turned her head.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, girlfriend. You’ve been Zaned.”

  “I’ve been what?” And why did it sound like she’d been lumped into a very large group? She pulled down the hem of her dress, a sudden breeze having picked up the thin fabric.

  “Zaned. Haven’t you seen the shirts? It basically means you’re smitten with Zane Hollander, surf god.”

  Of course she wasn’t anything unique. She was just another one of his groupies. Breaking her rule not to get too personal with him because she couldn’t help herself.

  “Umm…” Sophie said.

  “I’m happy you are.” Honor nudged her. “He’s the best Mr. Right Now ever.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” So what if it was all in her head? She didn’t want to tell Honor their definitions were poles apart.

  “Hey.”

  Sophie jumped at the deep, sexy voice behind her. Zane had said he might see her tonight, but she’d refused to get her hopes up.

  He came into view looking sexy as ever in a collared short-sleeve shirt and shorts. Bryce was with him.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Bryce?” Honor said.

  “Honor?” he answered, just as surprised.

  “You two know each other?” Sophie took them both in, their eyes wide and stuck on each other.

  “Yes.” Honor’s breathless response had Bryce stepping closer.

&nb
sp; “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I live here.”

  “Wow. It’s good to see you again.”

  Honor nodded, and curiosity filled Sophie. She’d seen Honor around guys, and her friend did not get tongue-tied. Then Honor’s hand slipped into hers and squeezed, and more than curiosity pestered Sophie. Concern did, too. She was about to make an excuse for them to be on their way so she could find out what was going on when Honor spoke up.

  “I was just saying good-bye to Sophie,” Honor said. “I’m meeting some friends. I’ll, uh, catch you guys later.” She let go of Sophie, spun around, and took off down the boardwalk, the evening shade swallowing her.

  Bryce watched her go before his cell phone buzzed. “It’s Danny.” He stepped away, leaving her alone with Zane.

  “Do you know what that was about?” Sophie asked.

  “No idea.” His gaze raked down her body and back up again. “You look crippler.”

  She smiled, even though she had no idea what that meant. Everything that came out of Zane’s mouth made her giddy. “I hope that means something good.”

  He canted his head so his mouth grazed her ear. “It means pretty.”

  Her legs wobbled, and he caught her around the waist. “You get prettier every time I see you, Sophie.”

  She felt prettier every time he said things like that. “Th-thank you.”

  “I want to dance with you,” he whispered.

  “Okay.”

  Zane took a step back. He lifted her hand and spun her until she was pressed up against his chest. Both his hands moved to the small of her back. Her arms went around his neck. And they slow-danced to the soft, mellow music spilling from the speakers up onstage.

  Sophie almost couldn’t breathe, being in Zane’s arms like this. She didn’t care what the reason was for being there—for show or not—she didn’t want the music to stop.

  Their bodies lined up in all the right places, and she felt…she felt like she belonged there. Because there was no place else she’d rather be than slow-dancing on a beach with the sexiest, sweetest, most attentive man she’d ever been with. She laid her head on his shoulder and imagined the night lasting forever.