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

by Robin Bielman

  He wouldn’t act on it, though. Coaxing her out of her shell would be a hell of a lot of fun. But Danny and Bryce were right. She was perfect—and he wouldn’t ruin her.

  Chapter Four

  “He told you you looked beautiful?”

  “His exact words were ‘I do love the way you look tonight,’” Sophie said to the ground. She still couldn’t believe Zane had spoken such words to her. “It doesn’t mean anything, though,” she added. “He was just being nice.” She thought she’d heard sincerity in his voice, but she couldn’t be sure. His charm wreaked havoc with the emotional part of her brain.

  “And honest. You looked amazing,” Honor said, bumping Sophie’s hip and linking their arms as they moseyed down the middle of Main Street. “Did he say or do anything else you need to tell me?”

  Sophie lifted her gaze to the booths lining the street. A Taste of White Strand, one of the film festival’s events, had drawn a huge number of participants. Every restaurant in White Strand was there, personal chefs, bakeries, and any shop with a culinary section, too.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Honor teased. “Like kiss you?”

  The glorious sun beat down on them, but that wasn’t why Sophie’s face heated. “Of course not. Like I said, he was just trying to make up for our surf lesson.”

  “So he just said good-bye at the end of the night and that was it?”

  “I didn’t see him after the screening. I got caught up with work, and by the time I was through, everyone had pretty much left.” She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t waited, since she was sure he had an after-party to attend. But she hadn’t counted on being so disappointed.

  Which meant her help with making Zane look good would cost her. She didn’t do things lightly. Never had. How on earth could she hang out with Zane and then leave White Strand with her heart untouched?

  It’s the first time your heart’s even been truly engaged. Let it live a little.

  She scanned their surroundings in hopes of avoiding Zane if he were around somewhere. The fewer times they bumped into each other, the better.

  “Huh,” Honor said.

  “Huh, what?”

  “It’s just that no one saw Zane last night. There were a couple of parties, but he wasn’t at any of them. I think he just went back to his rental house.”

  That made sense if he was really serious about working on his image.

  She wondered if he slept in the nude.

  Holy moly. She did not just think that. She fanned her Surf Fanatic Film Festival T-shirt away from her stomach. The balmy seventy-five-degree temperature must’ve just jumped into the eighties with the sun reaching the middle of the blue sky.

  “That’s unusual for him?” Sophie asked.

  “Totally. He’s usually the life of the party with women hanging all over him like he’s a ladder. And boy do they want to climb him.”

  “Who wouldn’t? Zane is…” Oops, she hadn’t meant to go down that road. Why couldn’t she keep her thoughts to herself?

  “Hot. Gorgeous. Sexy. To die for. Take your pick.” Honor elbowed her. “Good to see you’re not immune to him, either.”

  Sophie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She so wasn’t. She’d never felt so responsive before. So curious. “I can’t.” She peeked at Honor out of the corner of her eye. “Pick just one.” The two of them giggled.

  “Oh, hey. There’s Elena. Come on, I want you to meet her.” Honor led her to a booth where a really pretty, thirtyish-looking woman stood behind a table decorated with a blue tablecloth and silver platters of bite-size food samples. They’d been taste testing for the past hour, but that wasn’t going to stop Sophie from trying more.

  “Honor, hi,” the woman said.

  “Hi, Elena. Elena, this is Sophie. Sophie, Elena. Elena is the best personal chef on the West Coast,” Honor boasted. Then, leaning toward Sophie, she whispered, “She’s made lunch for the president.”

  “Wow,” Sophie said. “I better try one of everything, then.” She eyed the platters before picking up a mini taco. She bit into the crunchy goodness and moaned. “Oh my gosh, this is so yummy. What’s in it?”

  “Duck,” Elena said, a warm smile on her face. “Those are my hubby’s favorite, too.”

  Honor and Sophie indulged in everything on the table, all the while talking with Elena and hearing about her plans for the rest of the year. She was quite the busy chef and traveled up and down the coast to cook for many wealthy and famous people.

  The clock tower chimed, and Sophie dabbed a napkin at the corners of her mouth. “Shoot. I’m late. I’m supposed to judge the Battle of the Burger contest on the Culinary Stage. Thank you, Elena. Honor, I’ll catch you later?”

  Honor nodded and Elena waved good-bye. Sophie hurried down Main to the large stage set up for cooking demos and competitions. She’d stepped in last-minute when one of the judges had taken ill, happy to lend a hand. But seeing the large audience in attendance made her falter for a second. Not a single folding chair was left vacant. And glancing up at the stage, tiny flutters detonated in her chest. Zane sat at the judges’ table, a smile on his too-handsome face directed right at her.

  She broke eye contact and hurried to the side of the stage and up the steps.

  “Hi,” she whispered, sliding into the seat beside him just as the twelfth chime sounded.

  “Hi.” One little word and her body grew hyperaware of him. He smelled so good, like the beach and—she inhaled—vim and vigor.

  She turned to find the waitress from the Happy Harpoon on her other side. “Oh, hello. I’m Sophie Birch.”

  “Pleasure to officially meet you. I’m Midge.”

  Sophie returned Midge’s warm smile.

  “It’s Beach Café chef Rachel Boyce taking on Chef Alex Andrews, author of Best Burger, in today’s first challenge,” the emcee announced. He wore dress pants, a Hawaiian shirt, and flip-flops. His hair reminded Sophie of her dad’s—combed over and light reddish-brown.

  “Each will have twenty minutes to prepare their best burger before our panel of judges picks their favorite. And the clock starts now!”

  Elaborate “kitchens” were set up on the stage, and Sophie watched as Rachel and Alex got to work. Cheers from the crowd and a large digital clock counting down the minutes supplied incentive.

  “How are you?” Zane whispered, his sexy voice making her insides curl.

  “Good.” She kept her attention on the cooks.

  “You judging the chowder cook-off too?” he asked.

  She shook her head and scrunched up her nose. “I’m just filling in here.”

  His knee touched hers. She was pretty sure if she glanced under the table, she’d find sparks on her end. Skin to skin warmed her up like he was infused with sunshine. She ran her hands down her navy cotton skirt, trying to get it to scoot down a little in case it happened again.

  “You don’t like clam chowder?”

  “Not even a little.”

  The burgers sizzled, and delicious smells accompanied the steam wafting up from the stovetops. Many of the observers had pom-poms and waved them in the air as they rooted for their favorite chef.

  “Looks like our chefs are doing their best to out-cook each other,” the emcee said into his microphone. “And I don’t know about you all, but I’m getting hungry.”

  Sophie put a hand on her stomach. When she was little her mom used to touch her belly and tease her about having “just a little room left right here” for the vegetables she always tried to get out of eating. She’d hated anything green, but if she wanted dessert, she had to oblige. Of course, when her parents weren’t looking she slipped whatever she could to her dog, Duchess.

  Right now she wished she hadn’t sampled everything White Strand had to offer. Hungry she was not.

  “You do like burgers, don’t you?” Zane murmured.

  Okay, she’d kept her eyes off him long enough. She turned her head only to be hit with a pair of bottomle
ss blue masterpieces that stole her breath.

  He raised an eyebrow and one side of his very nice mouth perked up when she didn’t answer right away. And dang it, she knew her cheeks matched the color of Kool-Aid.

  “Of course,” she muttered. “Who doesn’t like hamburgers?”

  “Vegetarians.”

  She rolled her eyes. “There’s a burger for everyone.”

  “Not an edible one.”

  A grin took hold of her lips. He sounded like her dad. Daniel Birch believed in two food groups: meat and potatoes.

  Zane’s answering smile reminded her of how out of her league he was. He had his pick of women, traveled the globe, was an elite athlete. He wore charm like a second skin. She may not be cooped up doing research all day anymore, but this was only her first time out of Montana. And, she reminded herself, she was here on business. To prove herself and advance her new career.

  “Have you had burgers by both of these chefs?” Sophie asked, hoping to steer the conversation to the action onstage. She split her attention between Zane and the chefs. It stood to reason he might have, since this was his third film festival. Yes, she’d been studying up on Zane Hollander.

  He sat back in his seat. “I have.”

  “So do you already have a favorite?”

  “Not today.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and she absently rubbed it, thinking she had food there. Nothing came away on her fingers.

  “That’s, uh, very noble of you.” She stared across the stage.

  “On any given day, everyone deserves a fair shake. A chance to accomplish something they’ve worked hard for.”

  Sophie couldn’t stop the pull to look at him again. “Is that how it is in the water, too?”

  He ran a hand along the stubble on his jaw. “Yeah. Out in the surf, when it’s just you carving or pulling out your bag of antigravity tricks, there’s no predicting how things will turn out. If you get that unbelievable barrel, you’re golden. If you have to fight for something, you never know. Agility and precision play a big part, but there’s always a little luck involved, too. And it could be the guy next to you who gets a turn at the pipe dream.”

  He spoke with passion and conviction, and she was impressed with how much brain power it took to be a good surfer.

  “I get that. It’s a learning process, and the more you practice, the better your brain becomes trained to fire certain synapses in a particular order. And once they get comfortable with that, the results are usually instinctive. But you’re at the mercy of an always-changing wave.”

  “You’re talking about muscle memory,” Zane said.

  “Yes. You need that with the luck.”

  She watched him blink hard and wished that, with all her research, she’d discovered how to actually read someone’s mind. Was he intrigued or put off by her words?

  “Let me take you back out there.” He leaned forward, getting way too inside her personal space for comfort. “I promise I’ll be much more attentive than the last time.”

  She pressed back. No way sat on the tip of her tongue, but the way he focused on her, like he needed a second chance, kept her from expressing it.

  “I have a confession to make,” she said instead. “Sunday was the first time I’d even stepped foot in the ocean.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. Surprise. Wonderment. Maybe even awe. She wanted to hang on to that look until she figured it out or he said something, but a burst of cheers and applause pulled her out of his thoughtful gaze. She turned. The digital clock read 00:57.

  The chefs finished their burgers with seconds to spare and shook hands before a loud buzzer sounded.

  “Let’s get these burgers to the judges,” the emcee said, helping Rachel and Alex carry over the most amazing-looking burgers Sophie had ever seen.

  And the smell right under her nose? Holy grilled onions and bacon. She definitely had a little room left.

  “You’re drooling,” Zane teased.

  “I am not.” She straightened her back, pressed her hands in her lap, and focused on the two burgers placed in front of her.

  “Okay, you three,” the emcee said. “First bite goes to Rachel’s spinach and caramelized onion burger. What else you got in there, Rachel?”

  Rachel smiled and took the mike. “Mozzarella and gouda cheeses and my special secret sauce. I call it the Yippeekayay Burger.”

  Sophie was surprised to hear Rachel had an accent. Sounded Australian, but she couldn’t be sure. She cut the burger and lifted one half for a bite. Flavor burst in her mouth, and the meat was the perfect amount of juicy. She chewed slowly and carefully, savoring each bite.

  “From the looks on our judges faces, I think they like it,” the emcee said. “Now let’s dig into Alex’s. What’s going on between your buns, Alex?”

  The crowd cracked up with hoots and hollers about Alex’s “buns.” Alex, tall, handsome, and probably in his midthirties, didn’t seem at all bothered.

  “I call this the California Squealer Burger.” Squeals sounded from the audience like they knew all about the burger. “You’ve got cheddar cheese, a fried egg, coleslaw, and Cajun spices.”

  Sophie didn’t love spicy things, but she cleared her mind of that thought and cut into Alex’s burger. Once again the flavor and consistency were amazing. And despite the slight bite, it tasted divine. How in the world was she going to choose one over the other?

  “We’ll give the judges a few minutes to talk things over,” the emcee said.

  “They were both amazing.” Sophie let out a deep breath.

  “Agreed,” Zane and Midge said.

  “But I’ve got to give the edge to Alex. Something about that burger is damn near out of this world.” Zane reached out and ran the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. “A little sauce,” he said.

  Sophie couldn’t speak. Her lip tickled from such an intimate gesture. Without thinking, she darted her tongue out to lick anything he missed. Zane watched her with interest that was as much unsettling as it was exciting. Quivers swept up her arms.

  But again, he confused her. Was this for show or something genuine? Surely everyone in the audience had their eyes on him.

  Midge cleared her throat. “It’s a hard decision, but his unique culinary talent, not to mention his buns, gets my vote as well.”

  “What do you think, Sophie? Want to convince us we’re mistaken?” Zane said.

  She delighted in his question and appreciated his willingness to hear an argument if she had one. She thought about both burgers for a moment before shaking her head. “No. I’m with you.”

  “Do we have a winner?” the emcee asked.

  Sophie was given the honor of announcing their choice. Congratulations followed, then the stage crew quickly got to work preparing things for the next cooking demonstration.

  Zane put a hand on the small of her back as she readied to leave. “Take a walk with me?” he said.

  She didn’t answer right away. The only reason he’d want to be seen with someone like her was to improve his reputation, and she’d only agreed to the two screenings. Unless…unless he’d felt the same zing of pleasure she had when they’d talked about surfing.

  This overthinking-every-situation thing had to stop. “Okay,” she said.

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Live in the moment and try new things. And Zane was most definitely a new thing.

  Whatever happened next, she’d think like Honor would. She admired her new friend’s chutzpah.

  The moment they stepped down from the stage, fans bombarded Zane. Girls in bikinis, men with zinc oxide on their noses, kids with wide, adoring eyes. They all wanted to talk to him, get an autograph from him, take a picture with him.

  Him.

  A superstar in the surfing world. A man adored by millions worldwide.

  Sophie faded into the background. Someone elbowed her in the back. By accident, she knew, but she’d been pushed to the side her whole life. Out of nowhere, her eyes stung and she found it hard to
breathe. Memories from her youth came flooding back. She heard Zane call her name, but she was already a hundred feet away, on her way to somewhere else.

  Anywhere else.

  How silly she’d been to think for even a second that she’d stand a chance at his side.

  She had two meetings later, so she headed back to her hotel to do some work—that’s what she did best. Several details still remained for the concert tomorrow night. She also needed to confirm a few things for the small dinner she’d arranged for Zane and members of the city council. And while the festival committee had the films and venues ready, she wanted to double-check on the slight change in the screening schedule.

  You’re here to work, Sophie Birch. To prove yourself capable of handling large events on your own. There are no limits, her mom liked to tell her, even though Sophie saw tiny badges of disappointment behind the encouragement. Her mom had married at twenty-two, had Sophie at twenty-three. And so at the ripe old age of twenty-four, she knew her mom thought her a spinster. Even more so since she’d given up her academic job and, according to her mother, any chance of meeting a nice scientist or professor.

  She breathed in the fresh air and looked up at the palm trees lining the street. They stretched beyond her line of vision. If she narrowed her eyes, she thought she might be able to see where they ended.

  But she didn’t want to look there, instead steering her regard to the last of the booths. She didn’t want to find or be anywhere near an end. She had no plans to settle for just anything. Yes, she wanted to marry, but not before she’d established her new career. Had a life. Experiences. Flying here on her own and stepping out of her comfort zone was a new beginning, and she hoped that by the time the festival was over and she flew back to Montana, she’d be a changed person. Take some West Coast back to the home she loved.

  …

  She’d never set foot in the ocean before two days ago.

  Zane couldn’t get that statement out of his head. He couldn’t get her out of his head. And she’d just run away while a crowd swallowed him.

  “Zane, can you sign my program?”