by Shirley Jump
Before they knew it, the clock struck two in the morning and the bar was closing. Sophie should have been tired, but she could hardly think about sleep. Maybe it was all the conversation. Or the simmering attraction between them. Either way, when they hit the sidewalk and turned toward home, she tried not to look disappointed that the night was over.
At the corner, Harlan paused. His blue eyes gleamed in the soft light cast by the globe-shaped lamps lining Main Street. “I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s go watch the dolphins.”
“But it’s dark out,” Sophie said. “We can’t see anything.”
He glanced at his watch. “In a few hours, they’ll be swimming along the shore. Let’s go down to the beach and wait for them.”
She laughed. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe. Okay, definitely. But I’ve lived here for almost two months now and haven’t set foot on the sand. I lived in Texas forever and rarely got over to the coast.”
“Hmm…a fellow workaholic.”
“You know what they say about that, don’t you?” She shook her head. “All work and no play makes for grumpy ranch hands.”
She laughed. “Is that what we are? Ranch hands?”
“Close enough. We both work sunup to sundown, and deal with more crap than we should.”
She laughed again. Why had she never noticed before how funny Harlan Jones could be? How enjoyable spending time with him was? The hours had seemed to fly by, and the thought of having even more hours with Harlan filled her with anticipation.
She liked him, genuinely liked him.
“Let’s do it,” she said, putting her smaller hand into his large, warm one. All the while thinking she was crazy for doing this, crazy for spending time with a man who could—and probably would—broadcast every detail of her life on the radio. But all she saw right now, all she felt, was Harlan’s warmth, his strength, and his touch. “So what will we do between here and sunrise?”
He grinned. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
The innuendo sent a rush of heat through Sophie. Half of her wanted him to suggest spending those hours at his house. The other half was afraid he would—and she would get even more wrapped up in him than she already was. If they took this further than kisses, Sophie knew without a doubt she’d tumble down a rabbit hole she might never escape. Because if his kisses were any indication of his ability to please a woman—
Well, she’d never leave a bed or Harlan again.
“Do you mind if we stop at my house first?” he asked.
Oh, God, he’d said it. Stop at his house. Take the next step.
She could say no right now and head home. It was the wisest choice, really. The one that kept her far from all temptation.
“I have to let the dogs out,” he said when she hesitated, and Sophie felt silly for even thinking he’d meant anything else.
She thought back to those amazing, one-of-a-kind, earth-shattering kisses. Had that been a fluke? Or did he want more?
More that that, did she want more? All the way back to his house, she tried to decide. And couldn’t. Instead, she opted to part ways when they reached his house, telling him she wanted to run home and change into something warmer since the temperature had dropped during the night. She took the time to pack them a picnic breakfast, and grab a thick blanket to use on the beach. By the time she met up with Harlan again, it was after four. He was waiting in his truck in her driveway, a clear sign that he hadn’t intended to take her back to his house and up to his bedroom.
A part of her was relieved. Another part was very disappointed.
“We’re crazy,” she said after she climbed inside his truck. He had the dogs in the back—something she wasn’t thrilled about—so she kept the cooler and the blanket up front with her. Knowing Mortise and Tenon, breakfast would be devoured before the truck reached the end of the street. “We both have work in the morning.”
“We’ll be back in time.” He put the truck in gear and turned out of her driveway. “Why? You tired?”
“No. I really thought I would be. I can’t remember the last time I stayed up all night. I’m always in bed by eleven, up by five, off to work by six. It’s almost like…doing this is wrong, you know?” She traced the outline of the house on the corner in the light coating of steam on the window. “I never, ever ditch my responsibilities to go to the beach, just because.”
Instead of taking a right, Harlan turned to Sophie, leaning across the truck’s interior until he was inches away from her. He tipped her chin, bringing her lips just below his. Sophie’s heart hammered in her chest and her pulse began to race. He was going to kiss her again, and the anticipation nearly drove her mad.
“I think you should do more things just because,” Harlan said, his voice low and gruff.
“Things—” she let out a breath “—like what?”
“Like this,” he said, and lowered his mouth to hers. This kiss was more like a slow waltz, with his lips drifting over hers, his fingers dancing along her jaw. She leaned into him, inhaling the clean, strong scent of him until all she knew, all she cared about was Harlan.
He drew back, but didn’t release her. “Now that I think you should do all the time.” He grinned. “Just because.”
She could hardly breathe, hardly think, and yet every ounce of her wanted him to do that again. And again. “That could be dangerous.”
His gaze met hers, and even in the dark, she could feel it penetrating beneath the layers of her soul. “Anything between you and I could be dangerous.”
They took the Tampa Bay Bridge across the bay, driving all the way over to the Gulf side of Florida. By the time they reached the public beach in Indian Rocks, the sun was just coming up. There was only a handful of cars in the parking lot, and a couple of die-hard beach walkers striding along the sand.
Harlan got out of the truck, grabbing the blanket and cooler as he did. He came around to Sophie’s side, and opened her door. All night long, he’d been doing things like that—holding the door for her, pulling out her chair, waiting for her to order first. Grandma Watson would be thrilled. She’d always said the only man worth a woman’s time is a gentleman, and tonight, that defined Harlan Jones. Once again, she wondered about the many dimensions to Harlan. As she did, she felt her heart begin to open to him. Dangerous, was the word they’d used before, and that was the only word that came to mind now.
They kicked off their shoes, then walked barefoot on the cool sand, pausing a few feet from shore. A little further down the long expanse of pale, soft sand, a half dozen fishermen stood knee-deep in the water, casting their lines for sharks, flounder and mackerel. Herons and seagulls paced the beach behind them, hoping for cast-offs.
The surf curled in and out with a gentle whoosh. The sun climbed higher in the sky, kissing the water. The tips of the waves glistened in response. Harlan spread out the blanket, settled the picnic basket on one corner, then waited for Sophie to take a seat before he dropped down beside her. Mortise and Tenon bounded off toward the shore, barking and chasing seagulls, and running in and out of the surf.
“This reminds me of mornings in Texas,” Harlan said as he leaned back on his elbows. “I’ve always been an early riser. I like the way the world gets all quiet and…” His voice trailed off as he searched for the right word.
“Hopeful,” Sophie said.
“Hopeful,” Harlan repeated. “Exactly.”
Sophie drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I do too. Most mornings, I walk to work, just to watch the world come awake.”
“And help it do that with a whole lotta coffee.”
She laughed. “That, too.”
They sat there for a while, in a comfortable, pleasant silence, broken only by the occasional cry of a seagull and the soft song of the ocean. The dogs tired of chasing the birds and bounded over to them, sending a spray of water over Sophie. Then they pranced around the blanket, nearly knocking her over in their quest to get closer to the
humans.
Harlan laughed. “They like you.”
She pushed Mortise back, just before he plopped his big golden tush in her lap. “Too much.”
He grinned. “Just give them a chance.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small bag of dog treats. “Here. Make friends.”
“Oh, I don’t know if—”
“They don’t bite, I swear.” He pressed the bag into her hands. “And maybe they’ll behave better if they think you’re a friend.”
Sophie hesitated, then finally relented and took the bag of dog treats. As soon as she opened the top, the dogs caught the scent of the beef-flavored goodies and started dancing all around her, their big bodies practically on top of hers. Being at their level was overwhelming, because it made the dogs seem as big as her. “Whoa, whoa.”
Harlan leaned in to her. “Tell them to sit.”
“They’re not going to listen to me. They never do.”
“You have food in your hands. That’s a mighty big motivator for a dog. They’ll listen.”
She cast Harlan a doubtful look, then turned back to the canine terrors. “Uh…sit.”
“Say it with authority,” he whispered in her ear. “Like you’re ordering me around.”
She laughed. “You never do what I tell you to either.”
“Maybe I haven’t been properly motivated.” His breath was a warm caress against her neck. Her skin prickled beneath the heat. Damn, that man was sexy.
The dogs barked, jarring Sophie’s attention away from Harlan. She fished in the bag for a treat, then looked at Mortise. He seemed to tower over her, and she was sure he weighed at least eighty-five pounds, maybe more. Sophie swallowed hard, then eyed the big dog. “Sit!”
And just like that, Mortise dropped to his haunches. Tenon, seeing there was a reward about to come for her companion, did the same. The two dogs looked at her, panting happily.
Sophie turned to Harlan. “They listened to me!”
“I hate to say it, darlin’, but I told you so.” He nudged her elbow. “Now reward them, and they’ll be your friends for life.”
She flattened her palm and held the treat toward Mortise. He slobbered it right off her hand, then wagged his tail. She did the same for Tenon, who promptly dropped to her paws beside Sophie and put her big golden head on Sophie’s knee. “Did you see that?”
“I did indeed.” He moved until his chest was against her back, then reached past her to give Tenon an approving pat. “Rub her ears. She likes that.”
Sophie reached out a tentative hand, then caressed Tenon’s right ear. The dog let out a soft groan and turned her body into the touch. Mortise, jealous of the attention, shoved his snout under Sophie’s arm. She laughed and gave him a head rub.
The dogs stayed there for a good ten minutes, lapping up the attention and the occasional treat, until the bag of goodies was gone. Then they scrambled to their feet and went running off in search of more seagulls.
“I had no idea those dogs were so sweet,” she said, leaning into Harlan’s embrace. “I think I kinda like them.”
“As much as you like their owner?” Harlan asked.
She could tell him the truth. That she’d begun to like him more and more over the last few days, that when they finally did have to say goodbye and head off to work, she’d miss him. But she didn’t trust these feelings yet.
After all, the Harlan Jones she had spent the night with was the same Harlan Jones who made a living off of embarrassin’ moments, as he called them. She tried to keep that front and center in her mind, but every time he touched her, or said her name, or looked at her with those ocean-blue eyes—
She forgot.
“Maybe I should carry biscotti in my pocket,” Sophie said. “Then I might get better results with the owner.”
“If you did that, darlin’, I’d be so obedient and loyal, you’d start calling me Rover.”
She laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind…Rover.”
They sat there for a while, silently watching the surf, looking for the telltale dark hump of a dolphin. So far, the ocean was quiet. Down the beach, one of the fishermen reeled in a foot-long silver fish. A pair of walkers passing by cheered his catch.
“Tell me something,” Sophie said.
Harlan reached into the cooler, removed two paper cups, then unscrewed the top of the thermos Sophie had packed and poured them each a cup of coffee. “What?”
“Why are you so dead set against selling that furniture you make?” She thanked him for the coffee, took a sip, then shifted on the blanket until she was facing him. “You’re really good, you know.”
He’d told Sophie Watson a lot of things tonight, but not the truth about his childhood. Harlan sipped at his coffee, watching the surf, wishing a dolphin would come along and save him from answering.
None did.
“I just don’t think it’s smart to build a career out of a hobby,” he said.
“Why not? I did. I love to entertain and I love to cook. And, breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. Voilà. Coffee shop.”
“That’s a viable business. Making furniture is too…iffy.”
“Plenty of people do it.”
“Yeah, well, not me.” He sipped at the coffee and watched the surf. And hoped she’d drop the subject.
She didn’t. “Not everyone is as talented as you are. I mean, that furniture you’ve built is just incredible. And unique. In fact, I was talking to Tobias the other day—”
Any basking in her compliments drew up short when he heard Tobias’s name. “You saw my brother?”
She laughed. “Harlan, this is a small town. I see him all the time. He likes coffee and breakfast, too, you know. Specifically mocha lattes and cranberry-orange muffins.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“That’s because you only think about work, cowboy. Not breakfast. Me, I think about breakfast almost all day.” She pushed her sweatshirt hood back off her face, exposing the golden curls of her hair to the warming sun. Far down the beach, the dogs danced in and out of the water, nipping at the spray bursting off the waves. “Anyway, I never knew he was your brother, not until the other day when he mentioned that his brother was hosting a show on WFFM. We got to talking—”
“About me.”
A pink flush filled her cheeks. “About you. And, well, other things.”
The flush made him happy in a way he couldn’t remember being for a long time. Damn, this woman was starting to grow on him. He knew it was a crazy idea to stay up all night just to see the dolphins swimming by, but every time he’d thought about going home, he found another reason to stay with Sophie.
“Other things?” he teased.
“Other things that are none of your business,” she said, a smile curving wide across her face. “Tobias said nobody can make furniture like you can. That the dining-room table you made him gets compliments all the time and deserves to be in a museum.”
Harlan shook his head. Tobias had always loved Harlan’s work. He was the only one Harlan ever shared it with, the only one he’d made something for on demand before Sophie Watson came marching into his life, taking his chairs and putting his hobby on display.
That damned dining room table. He’d told Tobias not to say who’d made it, but his little brother, clearly proud, had gone and told Sophie. “My brother is biased.”
“I’ve seen what you’ve created in that woodshop of yours, and I’ve been pretty impressed.”
He refused to let the praise stick. He had to be smart about his future, and smart didn’t involve taking a risk like that. “Thanks, but I think I should stick to my day job.”
Her green eyes locked on his. “You’re scared.”
His gaze went to the surf. Where the hell were those dolphins? “I’m just practical.”
“I thought cowboys weren’t scared of anything.”
“We’re scared of plenty. But mostly of mad bulls and demanding women.”
She laughed. �
��Good thing there’s none of those here right now.”
He arched a brow. “I’d have to disagree. You’re about the most demanding woman I know.”
“Oh, yeah?” A tease lit her eyes again. For the last few hours, she’d been the Sophie he’d glimpsed throughout the week. And he liked that. Very much. “How about if I demand you kiss me again right now?”
Desire roared through his veins, thundered in his head. He wanted her—wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting anyone before—and he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than kiss her. But they were on a public beach, and he was, at his core, a gentleman. So he leaned over, and gave her a fast, hard kiss. “That’s it?”
“Patience, pardner.” He trailed a finger along her lips, and curbed the urge to press her onto the blanket and taste a lot more than her mouth. “Later, we’ll finish what we started.”
“Is that a promise?”
He grinned. “That’s a date.”
Sophie laughed, and curved into his arms. They faced the sea, and a second later, they were rewarded with a trio of dark gray fins, followed by curved, sleek bodies. “The dolphins,” Sophie whispered, as if the animals could hear. “They’re so beautiful.”
“They are,” Harlan said, and the two of them leaned forward, watching the graceful animals slice through the water, their backs curving in rhythm, as if they, too, were waves. In seconds, they were gone, disappearing into the deep blue of the ocean.
“We should go,” Sophie said. “We have to get back to the real world.”
For a while, Harlan had forgotten about his responsibilities. Forgotten about his job. Forgotten about his family. He’d just enjoyed the time with Sophie. “I reckon you’re right,” he said. But as they packed the picnic away and folded the blanket, he wished she wasn’t.
CHAPTER TEN
THE microphone sat in front of Harlan, small, dark and accusatory. He had thirty seconds until he was on the air, and he knew his listeners were going to want a full recap of the Love Lottery day at the carnival.