“Zane, right here on my bikini please!”
“Zane, say cheese!”
“Zane, how about dinner tonight?”
Shiiiit. He should have taken Bryce up on his offer to help keep people at a distance today. But Zane appreciated every single one of his fans. They didn’t judge him or put him down. They idolized him and it felt damn good. This just happened to be the first time they’d come between him and something…someone…he didn’t quite understand.
Sophie kept surprising him. He liked listening to her talk, and for some reason he didn’t feel inadequate around her when that talk turned more serious. He’d done research and been coached on the science of surfing, so when she’d shared her thoughts, he knew what she was talking about. And he wondered what else, besides event planning, sat tucked away in that intelligent mind of hers.
He stood tall enough to see over the heads of the crowd, and it looked like she was heading back to her hotel. As fast as he could, he signed and smiled and then took off in the same direction.
It took guts to jump into a surf lesson on the same day she’d jumped into the ocean for the first time. Courage. He admired the hell out of her for it. The first time he’d hit the ocean, he cried like a baby when a wave knocked him over. Okay, so he’d barely come to his mom’s knee, but it took a damned long time before he let her lure him back down to the surf after that.
Of course then he’d taken to the sea like a fish, and his mom could never get him out of it. He’d forget his homework and chores and spend hours in the water. At first it was to be better than all his friends at surfing, but as he got older it became a means of escape.
In the distance, the translucent turquoise ocean called to him. He should leave Sophie alone. She probably had festival stuff to do, but he wanted her to join him in the waves. He wanted to wipe away her first experience and show her some fun.
Not his usual reaction when the water tugged. Loner, most of the guys on the circuit called him. Solitude suited him out there. He craved it, actually.
But for some reason he chose not to examine too closely—it wasn’t his responsibility to make sure Sophie liked the water—he was in the mood for company.
Her company.
He’d never met anyone like her. Sweet and innocent one minute and he’d swear to God ready for sin the next. Her blush turned him on, and when her lips took a joyful turn, his heart raced. Something only surfing had done before.
When he’d touched her bottom lip with his finger, an unexpected current of energy had made his skin hot. Seeing her flustered, then her tongue dart out, he’d had to stifle a groan. She had no clue how sexy she was.
A minute later, as he approached the check-in desk inside the lobby of the White Strand Inn, Tango nodded in greeting. Zane had no idea where the nickname came from or what Tango’s real name was, only that he’d played pro football and now owned the boutique hotel.
“Hey, brah,” Zane said, “you slumming it today?” A special guest must be arriving—otherwise he didn’t think Tango worked the front desk.
“I am now,” Tango said, his deep voice on par with his huge size. The guy could probably bench-press a truck.
“Funny.” Zane put his elbows on the polished wood desk.
“What brings you by?” Tango said.
“I’m here to see Sophie Birch. Can you tell me which room she’s in?”
“I can ring her room for you. Let her tell you where she’s at.” He smiled and nodded at a couple passing by.
“I’d like to surprise her,” spilled out of his mouth, shocking him. Why the hell did he want to surprise her? Was he hoping to catch her wrapped in the soft terry cloth robe Zane knew the hotel supplied and nothing else?
That would be affirmative.
Tango narrowed his eyes. Several silent seconds ticked by. “Far as I can tell, that girl’s a fine human being. You’re not planning to corrupt her, are you?”
He wanted to corrupt her over and over again, but he wouldn’t. “No, sir.”
More silence.
“Just want to take her to the beach.” Unless he counted making her blush again. Was that corruption?
“If she comes back like she did the last time, you’re eating sand.” “Menacing” pretty much described Tango’s glare. “Room 305.”
Zane pressed his hands on the counter and rose. “Thanks. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”
“You keep those hands to yourself.”
Huh, Sophie had herself a fan and watchdog. Good thing. Zane liked to think he could be trusted, but he’d lived for so long now in wolf’s clothing he wasn’t sure he knew how to be good.
He saluted Tango and took the stairs to the third floor. He needed to burn off some energy. Reaching her door, he paused mid-knock and dropped his arm. He never did second thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him? Get your shit together, Hollander. She’s just a girl. He knocked.
Sophie opened the door wearing the same T-shirt and skirt she’d had on at the burger competition, but her feet were bare and black-rimmed eyeglasses sat atop her nose. “Zane?”
“Hey. Sorry about losing you.”
“You didn’t lose me. I left.”
That she did. “Can I come in?”
She hesitated a moment. “Uh, sure.” She stepped aside and he entered the large room with an ocean view. The sliding French door was open, and the gravitational pull of the beach led him to the patio.
“Nice view,” he said over his shoulder.
“It really is. This is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed at. Not that I’ve stayed in very many places.” She came up beside him, and her cinnamon sugar scent teased him.
He wanted to taste her. Eat her up.
“Is this your first time seeing the ocean, too?”
“Yes,” she whispered like she was embarrassed about it. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that before our lesson the other day.”
“No apology necessary. I’m pretty impressed you did what you did.”
“Really?” Delight wiped out her shame, coaxing big-ass smiles out of them both.
“You’re a lot tougher than you look.” He turned his head toward the ocean, afraid that if he looked only at her, he’d do something stupid. Bikini-clad women dotted the beach, but not one sparked his interest like the woman next to him. Especially now that pink colored her cheeks. He wanted to take her full bottom lip between his teeth, kiss her, slip his tongue inside her mouth, and once he’d had his fill, lick his way down her body until—
“What about you?” She curled up on one of the cushioned patio chairs.
“What about me?” He took the other seat, stretching his legs out and situating himself for an easy view of the beach through the iron slats of the patio railing.
“How would people describe you?”
Her question drew his undivided attention. “Depends on who you ask.” He smirked. “Women and men have very different opinions of me.” The sun glittered off her auburn hair, casting a radiant halo. “All good, mind you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you ever get tired of it?”
“It?”
“The fame. Being recognized everywhere you go. Having to always wear a certain image.”
His heart beat a little faster. The image he shared with the world was far from the guy his family and close friends knew. He got the feeling from Sophie’s warm, interested eyes that she really wanted to know what made him tick. In his world, women only wanted to know how to get in his board shorts, so it took him a minute to process her curiosity.
And damn if it didn’t bother him that she apparently didn’t want in his pants.
“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”
Her soft voice wove a soothing thread of warmth through his system. Just like it had the opening night of the festival when he’d opened up to her, unthinking. Somehow, she’d discovered a way to crack open his vulnerability—and leave his confidence intact.
“I’ve got the be
st fans out there. Most of them have been with me since day one. It’s really only at big events like this that attract more than the usual spectators that it can get a little crazy.”
She tilted her head. “You seem to handle the pressure really well.”
“Want to know a secret?” He leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs.
“Okay,” she breathed.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I’m like a vault.” A small smile played across her lips, a tiny gift he’d remember all day.
“Give me your hand.”
“What?”
“Your hand.” He put his out, palm up, and moved his fingers back and forth, gesturing for her to pony up.
She uncrossed her arms and placed her hand carefully on top of his. He cupped it between his, enjoying how damn soft her skin felt. “A guy in Hong Kong taught me that rubbing your hoku relieves stress.” Zane couldn’t help it; with a very light touch, he rubbed his thumb across her palm. She shivered.
“Your hoku is the flap of skin that connects your pointer finger to your thumb.” He moved his thumb there and applied pressure. “It’s an acupressure spot that alleviates upper body tension, and when you squeeze it, it minimizes stress.”
Rubbing his thumb in circular motions in the sensitive spot, he watched Sophie’s shoulders relax. Her eyes close.
Holy hell. If she responded to his touch so easily and hypnotically here, he could only imagine how she’d respond if he touched her in more sensitive spots.
His gaze fell to her smooth, creamy legs. Her skirt had lifted some, giving him a peek at her pretty thighs. How he wanted to stroke her there and move higher.
A tiny moan escaped her lush mouth, and her eyes jerked open. She whipped her hand back and sat taller. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I had a little stress to relieve.”
He was damn tempted to offer his services on other parts of her body, but he refrained. “Works like a charm, right? So if I get stressed when I’m out in public, I just rub my hoku.”
She sucked in her bottom lip and then burst out laughing.
“Sounds a little dirty, doesn’t it?” he said.
“Uh-huh.” She pushed her glasses back into place and turned her head to look into the room. He followed her gaze to a stack of papers on the bed.
“How about that swim in the ocean?” he asked, remembering his reason for being there. And needing to cool off. To his surprise, Sophie pressed his hot buttons.
“I can’t. I’ve got a bunch of little things to take care of. Besides, you’ve got another surf lesson this afternoon,” she pointed out.
“How do you know that?” He’d forgotten about it.
“Bryce sent over your schedule so I’d know when you were available for some meet-and-greets.” She furrowed her brows. “What?”
He scraped a hand over his head and through his hair. “Nothing.” Seemed Bryce was as comfortable with Sophie as he was. “So how long have you been an event planner?”
“Umm…not very long. Almost a year.”
“First job out of college?” She looked a few years younger than him.
Moving her legs out from under her, she crossed them at her ankles and sat taller. “No, actually. I graduated four years ago. I was twenty.”
“Wow.” Zane gulped. His dad’s hurtful words about his intelligence rang in his ears. The fact that he didn’t even graduate from high school clenched every muscle in his body. He and Sophie might have connected on surfing, but she was otherwise out of his league.
“I studied neurobiology and used to do research for the university in Montana I graduated from, but I decided I wasn’t really happy doing that.”
He watched her pulse tremble in her throat. Why was she nervous? Did she think he’d like her less knowing she was smart? If anything, he was even more intrigued and impressed. He’d sensed she was special, and he wanted to know more.
“What made you pick event planning?”
Her gaze went somewhere over his shoulder. “There was an event at the university for the chancellor’s retirement, and for the first time I got to dress up and go to a party and I loved everything about it. I thought it would be nice to be part of something where everyone had fun.
“I know it’s silly.” She waved her arm in the air. “But then in the ladies’ room I met the party planner and we got to talking and she was hiring. I gave notice the next day.”
As inadequate as he’d often felt without a high school diploma, he’d seen how people could be cruel to someone who was smarter than everyone else and didn’t fit the “norm.” In a different way, he guessed Sophie might have felt like an outsider, too, given her accomplishments at such a young age.
“It’s not silly. I admire your courage to change professions and go after something different.”
“I wish my family felt the same way.”
“They think party planning is beneath you?”
“As my mother likes to say, ‘Intelligence without strong purpose is a waste of your IQ.’ She means well, but I wish she’d let it go.”
Zane wasn’t sure what to say. When would Sophie figure out he wasn’t all that smart? And once she did, would she still want to have these conversations? He’d talked more with her than he had any other girl since longer than he could remember. He needed to get up and walk out the door before she figured him out.
His brain didn’t get the memo to his mouth, though, and he found himself saying, “Have you got some free time tomorrow?”
She searched his eyes for a long, torturous moment. “I might.”
What the hell was he doing? Hoping her smarts would rub off on him, maybe? “Good.” He got to his feet. “I’ll pick you up at ten. Plan on being out for a few hours.”
“Where are we going?” She rose and followed him toward the door.
“The beach.”
“For hours?” She bumped into him when he stopped to open the door. He inwardly smiled.
“I didn’t say which beach.” He stepped into the hallway.
“Should I bring anything special?” Excitement sounded in her voice.
“Just your smile,” he said over his shoulder. And then he hauled ass before something else stupid came out of his mouth. What had just come over him?
He was headed north tomorrow to visit his mom and sister. They’d planned to come down for the festival, but Julia had a doctor’s appointment in the morning and wasn’t up for a few days away from home and her fiancé.
And now he was bringing Sophie along with him when there would be no one with prying eyes. Huh.
Chapter Five
The drive up the coast dazzled Sophie, and she let her astonishment at Zane’s taking her home with him disappear. She sat in the front seat of his rented convertible with the wind blowing her already-unruly hair into complete disarray, and she loved it. The warm sun caused sweat to trickle down the middle of her back, and she loved it. The sea sparkled like a thousand daytime stars shone down on it, and she loved it.
The impossibly handsome man in the driver’s seat kept glancing at her—her!—and she loved it.
They’d been mostly quiet on the drive, letting the scenery do all the talking. Sophie chewed the inside of her cheek—because of nerves, but also because she didn’t know what to say.
Were she and Zane friends now? They’d had some wonderful talks like they were, and if not, why the heck would he take her with him? She knew he felt bad about the surf lesson. She could see it in his tempestuous eyes when he brought it up. But this went way beyond making it up to her. And it went beyond helping his image, because they’d left the festival and inquisitive eyes behind them.
Her heart beat a little harder inside her chest at the thought that Zane might genuinely like her. She settled back into the leather seat, closed her eyes, and imagined him pulling off the side of the road to somewhere secluded and showing her that he really liked her.
Strip and put your hands on the hood, Sophie.
A shi
ver raced through her. And then, oh my heavens, Zane made a sharp left turn and her eyes flew open. Her pulse quickened. Her fingernails dug into the seat as she sat taller. They bounced down a deserted one-lane road, trees blocking the sun’s rays.
“Sorry about that,” he said, taking note of her open jaw. She clamped it shut. “I’m always a second behind that turn-off.”
“Wh-where we going?”
“My beach.”
“Your beach?”
“It’s not really mine, just a favorite. Not a whole lot of people come here. We’re only twenty minutes from my mom’s house but…”
“But what?”
The road narrowed and the bumpy pavement turned to dirt. Then the trees gave way and they came to an abrupt stop. White sand and a blue sea lay before them. It looked like a postcard, and Sophie couldn’t help herself. She let her question slide, undid her seat belt, and stood up to get a better look over the windshield. Zane turned off the ignition and rose beside her.
“I can see why it’s your favorite,” she said. Devoid of people, the unspoiled stretch of bleached sand and aquamarine waves rolling gently onto shore calmed and excited her at the same time. She could almost hear the water calling her name, beckoning her to slip into its vastness.
“Yeah?” He sounded pleased, but with a hint of doubt.
She studied him out of the corner of her eye. Even in profile, he was magnificent. And he had some seriously sexy hair growth above his mouth and on his chin, caramel-colored stubble streaking the blond. How scratchy would it feel on her skin?
“Yeah. It’s not only beautiful but secluded. You’ve probably brought lots of girls here.” She took a second to glance around.
Zane’s gaze stayed on the beach. “Actually, you’re the first person I’ve brought here.”
Her stomach flipped, like a fish out of water. He turned and their eyes met. She swore she saw the sea rippling in the depths of opaque blue that kept captivating her.
He was hurting. Deep down, something troubled him, and if he let her, she’d help him. She might have little experience in the way of men, but she’d always been good with strays, and that, she realized, was how he looked. Like he had no home.
Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss) Page 7