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

by Robin Bielman

  Sensations she’d never ever experienced before. She pressed her legs together.

  “I know this is way out of your realm of ordinary. It is for me, too. So don’t think I find this any easier. We can figure out something that works for both of us.”

  Meaning he didn’t socialize with pale, simple-looking girls from Montana who took to the sea and floundered. But.

  But admitting he felt out of his comfort zone did appeal to her basic desire to help those who needed it.

  Meeting his incredible blue eyes, she wondered what it would be like for someone like him to burn for her with genuine longing.

  “Your job is important to you, we get that.” Bryce broke into her dizzying thoughts. She slid her hand from Zane’s and moved her attention across the table. “I know this is your first big event on your own, that you’re filling in for your boss. We’re arranging a few informal get-togethers with town officials and notable residents. Let us hire you to take over the planning.”

  She thought about that for a minute.

  If she did these extra events for Zane, it would prove she was a go-getter and that she could get business on her own.

  Their suggestion niggled at her, though, sounding less than honorable. “Are you bribing me?”

  “Shit,” Danny said. His light brown hair and light eyes were a nice combination as well. Jeez, the three of them probably slayed women everywhere they went. “We don’t mean that at all. Extra work means more for your résumé, and it’s our way of saying thanks. We’re trying to be as up-front as possible here.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Film festival and Zane aside, we work with other athletes and events, and we’d be more than happy to recommend you and your company.” Danny’s sincere smile hit her square in the cerebral cortex, and just like that, she knew she’d accept their offer. These men were providing her with a chance to further her career. Added to Zane’s admission he was anxious, too, and the whole thing seemed doable.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “That means you’re in.” Zane’s confident tone twisted her stomach in a knot. He probably made commands all the time. The thought made her breathless. Take off your dress. Leave the pumps on. Lie down with your hands above your head. Don’t move.

  “Sophie?”

  Oh, sweet sugar snaps. He’s just a man, she reminded herself. Who wouldn’t for a second think anything inappropriate about her. She blinked and swallowed and forbade herself from looking in Zane’s direction. “Sorry. Yes?”

  Bryce narrowed his eyes. “Yes, you’re in?”

  Her heart beat the living daylights out of her chest. “Y-yes, I’m in. Let me know what Zane’s schedule is like and I’ll arrange a few small gatherings. I’ll be sure to let the local press know what we’re planning. And if there’s anything else you think I should know, I can be reached at the White Strand Inn or by cell.” She pulled out a business card and stood. “Thank you for the drink.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you.”

  She returned Bryce’s warm smile and turned to go. She’d made it halfway through the restaurant when Zane took her by surprise and grabbed her hand to lead her back toward the sand.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. Ignore the returning zings of pleasure.

  “Thought I’d walk you to your hotel.”

  “My hotel is that way.” She jutted her chin over her shoulder, since she held her messenger bag in her free hand.

  “Actually, it’s a nice walk along the beach. Come on.” He wove them through the narrow gap between tables. Once they passed tiki torches glowing a wonderful red and orange, she pulled him to a stop.

  “I’ll sink if I don’t take these off.” Sand was made for bare feet. Plus, that way she didn’t have a free hand, her shoes now dangling where Zane’s fingers had been intertwined with hers.

  “You know, this really isn’t necessary,” she added.

  “Can’t a guy just be nice?” He dazzled her with his white teeth, and was that a dimple in his left cheek?

  She had a thing for single dimples that went back to ninth grade and her crush on the star tennis player. “Bryce and Danny told you to get your butt off the chair, didn’t they?” She prided herself on being pretty good at reading people, but Zane was so charming she had no idea what was real and what was an act.

  “Yeah.”

  At least he didn’t deny it. He wasn’t even remotely attracted to her, which was nothing new. And which really didn’t bother her.

  Liar.

  They walked down the palm tree-lined beach in silence, Zane’s focus on the ocean. He seemed drawn to it even now, when the surf quietly met the shore and it was difficult to separate sea from sky. She inhaled the fresh air, the quiet darkness. Lovely Spanish-style houses and small shops sat along the boardwalk to her right.

  “So…why the sudden need for a new reputation?” She knew very little about the surfing world beyond what she’d studied on the plane trip. Honor had delivered everything she’d need for the film festival earlier in the evening, but nothing gave further insight into the walking sex on the beach beside her.

  She quietly cracked up, pleased with herself for making a joke that referenced Honor’s drink from earlier. And okay, chuckling on the inside also cooled her jets because heavens, the sexiest man on the planet was walking next to her.

  Drop your panties. Roll onto your stomach. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.

  “Sophie?”

  Her feet got tangled in the sand and she lost her balance. Zane caught her before she embarrassed herself a second time. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he held tight until she’d righted her glasses. “Sorry, got lost in thought there. I’m good now.” She wiggled free of his hold before she did mortify herself by doing something foolish. Like sniff him. “You must think I’m the biggest klutz.”

  “No. That would be my sister. She’s walked into more walls, closed her fingers in more doors, and spilled more beverages than I’m betting you have.” He spoke with fondness and warmth, and Sophie started walking again. Only faster. She didn’t want to know anything too personal about him to make her crush harder.

  “Did I miss your answer about your reputation when I zoned out?”

  He chuckled, and it was deep and throaty, and warmth got comfortable inside her again. “You did. Is this how it’s going to be when we see each other?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re nervous around me. I don’t bite.” He turned his head and swept a gaze over her that went from head to toe and back again. “Unless you like that sort of thing.”

  She gulped. No one had even so much as nibbled on her, her past two boyfriends—her only boyfriends—unimaginative and prudent in the bedroom.

  So she settled on all sorts of wild images of Zane.

  “That would be a yes.” His voice right then took on a huskier, deeper sound. Oh no. Could he tell where her thoughts had gone?

  Wait. “What, uh, would be yes?”

  “Your blush, Sophie.” The space between their bodies dwindled, their steps slowed. “The pink that spreads across your cheeks and down your neck is a dead giveaway that you’re nervous and like what I said. Even in the dark, I can see it.”

  Darn her fair complexion. She didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t or he’d know he was right. She took in the palm trees, located the hammock hanging between the two tree trunks that meant they were close to her hotel, and concentrated on the cold sand cooling her off from her toes all the way up to her bothersome cheeks.

  “We need to set some boundaries,” she finally said.

  “Oh?” he said, tease in his voice.

  “I don’t think we should talk about anything too personal. We’re only going to know each other for a brief time, and I do have all the other professional surfers and their films to think about, too. While I admit I am curious about surfing, I’m sure there are dozens of other things besides me you’re interested in, so let’s stick to fe
stival topics and respect each other’s privacy.”

  Her hotel came into view, bright lights glowing, and the faint sound of voices on the tail end of a whisper of wind.

  “You through?” Zane stood a good six inches taller than her, and because they’d drifted closer, she lifted her head to meet his question.

  “Yes.”

  He leaned down; his mouth was so close to hers that her breath caught in her throat and quivers flooded her body. “Boundaries don’t work for me,” he whispered.

  Butterflies in her head. Flutters in her stomach. Tingles in her toes. His soft voice didn’t leave any part of her untouched.

  She needed a fan—a big huge fan that would blow her back to Montana. Because she was so out of her league she might never recover from it.

  Chapter Three

  “You can’t wear that. You’re Zane Hollander’s date.” Honor pointed at the ordinary short black dress on Sophie’s hotel room bed like she hoped flames would shoot out of her finger and burn the thing up. “And did you bring anything with you that isn’t black or navy?”

  Sophie glanced down at her black pants and blue blouse. Pushing her glasses back up her nose, she let out a sigh. Honor had known her all of twenty-four hours and she already had her figured out. Blue and black were safe colors. Business colors.

  Boring colors.

  “Come on,” Honor said, picking up her bright yellow-and-orange-striped bag. It matched her flirty orange sundress. “We’ve got a few hours before the opening and I’m taking you shopping.”

  “Honor, I—”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer. You said you finished all the work you needed to do for today, and you don’t have to be at the cultural center and gardens until an hour or two before start time so…” She looked at the silver starfish watch on her wrist. “That gives us plenty of time to brighten you up.”

  “Okay. But let me just put in my contacts.” Luckily, she’d brought extra with her.

  Honor plopped down on the bed. “Hurry it up, girl. We need to skedaddle.”

  Sophie contemplated arguing, but her curiosity got the best of her. She’d never been shopping with someone like Honor before, and if she really wanted to leave her research image behind, then this was a great way to do it. For months, she’d been striving to shed the old Sophie. The one everyone called a homebody and brainiac and saw as plain and boring. She’d imagined herself more girly countless times, and she was ready to dress the part.

  Plus, plus, plus, shopping would get her mind off Zane. She hadn’t been able to get him out of her head since he’d almost kissed her last night on the beach.

  She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her cheeks stained the color of a ripe cherry tomato. She traced her finger along the seam of her mouth.

  Okay, so he hadn’t really tried to kiss her, but she liked to imagine he had. Fantasies of him using that gorgeous mouth of his on her had troubled her all night. The good kind of trouble, the kind that led her to take matters into her own hands while she lay in bed, unable to sleep.

  She was under no delusion that Zane had given her a second thought after they’d said good-night. Despite his concerns about his reputation, some gorgeous woman probably found him on the walk back to wherever he was going.

  “You almost done in there?” Honor called out.

  “Yes!” Focus, Sophie. She couldn’t let thoughts of Zane distract her. Not when her career goals were inching closer to reality with the opportunities in White Strand.

  Fifteen minutes later, she and Honor walked down Bluff Avenue—the hippest street in White Strand, Honor said. Quaint stucco and Mediterranean architecture drew Sophie’s eye to the boutique shops and gourmet restaurants. She happily window-shopped, enjoyed the sunshine on her face, the smell of seafood, and most especially, the untucked-shirt-and-flip-flops style everyone had going on.

  “Honorlicious, how goes it?” a cute twenty-something guy heading toward them on a skateboard said. He stopped just shy of colliding into Honor and flipped the board up into his hands.

  “It’s going. Dylan, this is Sophie. Sophie, Dylan.”

  Dylan lifted his chin, “Wassup?”

  Sophie smiled. His blond Einstein-style hair totally worked with his dark eyes and faded T-shirt that read Surf waves = Brain waves on H2O. She liked him immediately. “Hi.”

  “Pull your pants up, would you?” Honor said, tugging on his low-slung shorts. “They’re about to fall off.”

  “That’s how the ladies like ’em.”

  Honor rolled her eyes. “When they trip you up and you fall on your face, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Since when did you get sensible?”

  “Since…” Honor waved her arm at him. “Come on, Sophie. We’ve got shopping to do.”

  Dylan dropped his skateboard and pressed a foot on it. “Whatever. See ya around.”

  “How do you know him?” Sophie kept pace with Honor’s quick steps back down the sidewalk.

  “He’s my brother’s best friend.”

  “You have a brother?” Sophie’s eyebrows rose.

  “Yeah, but he’s not worth discussing at the moment. Come on.” Honor stepped off the curb to cross the street. “Ivy Bleu’s is right over there.”

  The chime of the bells from the clock tower on Main Street rang in Sophie’s ears as she followed Honor into the tiny clothing store.

  Before they ran into Dylan, Sophie had learned all of Honor’s favorite places and wished she had someone like Honor back home. Her new friend shared everything with such openness and camaraderie that Sophie had let slip things she’d never told another soul. Like the time she’d stolen a tube of lip gloss from the drugstore on a dare from the popular girl who lived across the street. Some might call it stealing, but Sophie had considered it preservation. The favored girls at school made fun of her for always having her nose in a book and dressing conservatively. Her one brush with shoplifting had bought her a short reprieve.

  “Hey Ivy,” Honor said to a tall, willowy brunette.

  Sophie had pictured Ivy much older, but she couldn’t be more than thirty. She’d owned the clothing store for the past two years, Honor had said. Ivy also designed clothes, and several of her creations were in the store. Honor introduced them, tacking on, “Sophie is Zane Hollander’s date tonight.”

  She’d sort of forgotten that the whole reason for shopping was to find something to wear tonight. So much for keeping her mind off the surf stud.

  Honor crossed her arms over her chest, a grin on her face, while Ivy sized up Sophie with enthusiastic eyes. “You’ll need something special, then.”

  A few minutes later, Sophie’s arms full of dresses, Honor and Ivy shooed her into a dressing room.

  “You need to come out and model each one,” Honor said, her elbows pressed to her body, her hands clasped under her chin. Excitement danced in her blue-gray eyes.

  “Yes, please,” Ivy added.

  Sophie smiled all the way down to her toes. They didn’t say anything about her figure being less than curvy, and picked colors and styles she never would’ve picked on her own.

  She slipped on a casual pink cotton dress with a scoop neckline and crossover strap in the back. Form-fitting in the bust, it had a fluid short skirt. Sophie pushed the dressing room curtain aside and spun around for Honor and Ivy. They both gave a thumbs-up. Honor said, “It looks adorable on you, but there’s still a lot more to go.”

  Sooo many dresses to go, and while several were definite misses, a few made her feel like a woman. And for a girl who never fit in anywhere, for this brief moment in time, Sophie felt like she belonged. She was finally playing dress-up, and Honor and Ivy seemed to be having as much fun as she was.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” Honor said as Sophie stepped out of the dressing room to model another dress.

  Sophie tried to tame the smile on her face. Didn’t work. “It’s my amygdala’s fault.”

  Honor frowned. “Your what?�
�

  Snap. She’d said that out loud. “The amygdala is the part of the brain involved in emotions such as happiness. It’s buried in the cerebrum, so that’s probably why you haven’t heard of it.”

  “Or science was my worst subject in school.” Honor narrowed her eyes. “You’re smarter than you look, aren’t you?”

  “I love you,” Sophie said, flinging her arms around Honor’s neck in a quick hug. No one had ever thought her anything but nerdy-looking, and Honor’s implication that she didn’t look like she was all brain power thrilled her. Sophie was about to mention her previous employment when her cell phone buzzed. Worried it might be work-related, she raced to grab it.

  She glanced at the screen and sighed. Her amygdala lost its pep. It was her mother. She debated whether or not to answer, but if she didn’t, her mom would just keep trying. “Hi, Mom.” Sophie slid the dressing room curtain shut and sat on the tiny satin-covered ottoman.

  “Sophie Rose, why haven’t I heard from you today? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. How are you?” She heard her mom exhale in relief.

  “I’m good now that I hear your voice.” Conservative, strict, but full of love for Sophie, Sarah Birch couldn’t cut her overprotective ties no matter how many times Sophie told her she was fine on her own. “What are you doing? Getting ready for the festival opening tonight?”

  “You caught me shopping for something new to wear.”

  “Oh, I wish I were there to help. Remember, a flared skirt is the best way to create the illusion of hips.”

  “I know, Mom.” Sophie smoothed a hand down the shiny material of the dress.

  “And you have such pretty shoulders, so you should show those off. But nothing low-cut or too short.”

  Sophie chewed on her thumbnail. “Got it. Hey, I need to finish up, so I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay, sweetie. Good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks. Bye.” Sophie ended the call and looked down at the V-neck dress. It wasn’t like she’d fall out of something no matter how low-cut, but she pulled the pretty garment over her head and moved to the next one.