Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss) (16 page)

“You going to eat that piece of sticky bun?” Honor asked.

“It’s all yours. I need to head out.” She hugged Honor before she left and caught up with Midge to pay the bill.

Shoppers, beachgoers, and surfers freckled Main Street as Sophie made her way to the cable car stop for the short ride to the Town Stage Theater. Looking around the quaint street where old mixed with new, the funky and warm feeling the town called forth swept over her with the ocean breeze. White Strand had diversity, energy, magnetism she’d miss when she went back home.

The cable car’s bells rang as it came to a stop. She hopped on and was greeted with several “hellos” from strangers. “Hi,” she called back, delighted with the kindness. Her hometown might be friendly, but not like this.

She moved to the back of the car, wrapped her hand around the handrail, and braced herself for a stand-up ride. Just before the cable car jerked forward, more “hellos” sounded from over her shoulder. The masculine, sexy “hey” in return had her spinning around.

Zane.

He strode right toward her, high-fiving the other riders who put up their hands. “Morning,” he said as he wrapped one arm around the handrail and the other around her waist.

“Morning.” She
almost
got up on tiptoes to kiss him before remembering she couldn’t just do that.

Bouncing with the not-so-smooth ride of the cable car, though, caused all sorts of nice friction between their bodies. His gray T-shirt with some retro design on the front felt good. His gaze slid to her chest.

“Zane!”

“Yeah?” he said, cool as a cucumber and tucking his chin a little tighter, eyes still in the downward dog.

“Are you trying to look down my blouse?”

“Yeah.”

She rushed a hand to cover the teensy bit of cleavage left exposed by the button-down silk shirt.

“Too late,” he teased, eyes lazily lifting to meet hers. “Are your panties black too?”

Holy snap peas. Was this how things would be now that they’d kissed? Was he hinting at wanting more? Maybe he’d slept on it and decided to forget the gentlemanly thing and take things further.

“Yes.” She stuck her neck out, just a little bit, and inhaled his delicious scent.

“Did you just sniff me?”

“You smell good.”

He lowered his head and, with his lips grazing that delicate spot under her earlobe, said, “You do, too, and I want to breathe in every part of you.”

Unthinking, she fisted the front of his shirt to keep herself upright. Quivers tobogganed down her body, surging and spreading to all her girl parts. “I don’t know what to say to that,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

She buried her face in the crook of his neck. That seemed like a good move. He held her in place and her mind buzzed once again with the crazy notion that she was right where she belonged. The cable car wrenched to a stop, breaking them apart.

“This is me,” she said.

“Need an escort?”

“Sure. I’m going to the Town Stage Theater.”

They hopped off the ride with most everyone else. Zane nodded toward the sea and a dirt path. “Down that walkway, there’s a great beach for sunbathers and swimmers. The tide breaks far from shore and the backwash is tame, so it’s a good place to bring kids, too.”

“Is there any part of the coastline you don’t know?” Sophie asked.

“A spot or two.” He picked up her hand and they walked toward the beautiful Spanish-style landmark theater.

“Zane, what are we doing?”

“Enjoying each other.”

“Until we say good-bye?” Three more days. That’s all they had, and she was definitely on board with making them count.

“Until then, yeah.” He faltered over the
yeah
. “And before I forget, if you see Tuck Mitchell, keep away from him. You’re right up his alley.”

She chuckled. “So I’ve been told. Honor warned me about him. He’s her great-uncle.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I guess you don’t have to warn Honor, then.”

Sophie laughed again. They stopped at the entrance to the theater and she took a moment to soak it in. The lush landscape caught gleaming sunlight through the large palm tree fronds that loomed like mushroom caps atop the tall trunks. Flowers flourished up the walkway and the sweet scents of varied blossoms, most notably jasmine, filled her senses.

“What are you up to today?” she asked, not quite ready to let go of his hand.

“Hanging with the surf team later this morning. A meeting with the co-founder of SHE for lunch, and then I’ll see you at the bonfire and screening tonight.”

She squeezed his hand. “You don’t need any luck, but I’ll say it anyway. Good luck with your meeting.”

“Thanks. This one’s just an informal meet-in-person kind of thing.”

“Those are usually the most important. First impressions and casual chats can seal a deal before a deal’s even been brought to the table. Just be you and they’ll see how much you want to use surfing to make the world a better place.”

Zane ran his free hand through his unruly, sexy hair. “I’m trying like hell not to be nervous,” he admitted.

“Maybe I can help? Just plant a few things in your mind that you can use
if
you need them. Because you really can do this, Zane.”

“Shoot.”

“Well, considering oceans cover approximately seventy-two percent of the earth’s surface, the potential for surf activism is huge. SHE’s the biggest nonprofit, right? And they’ve been around for how long?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“A lot has changed in twenty-five years. Are you on Twitter or Instagram?” He shook his head. “Facebook?”

“Danny’s set up a fan page or something.”

“You’ve got a gazillion fans, Zane, young and old. But I’ve seen how much kids get the biggest smile out of you. And I know it’s cliché, but kids are our future. How do you get them involved? Through social media. Make yourself and SHE accessible. Encourage them to tweet, message on their walls, post pictures on Instagram. Create events around them. They’ll bring their parents. Their parents will tell their friends. One of SHE’s main goals is to promote natural healing, right? My cousin’s daughter has cystic fibrosis and she’s been taking her to a woman who uses swimming as a natural treatment and it’s really helped not only her body, but also her mind. I wonder what putting her in the ocean would do.”

Zane closed his eyes for a moment.

“Sorry. I got a little carried away there.”

“No, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for sharing your ideas or saying what you feel.”

“Okay. So…are you anxious about showing your film tonight?” Her one foray into filmmaking had been for a journalism class in college, and she’d been so worried about peer reaction. Thanks to the rest of her group, the project had been a success.

He took a breath—a replenishing breath, Sophie thought. “Nah. We’ve screened it a couple of times already and the response has been amazing, so I’m more mando than anything else.”

“Mando?”

“Feeling totally cool about it.”

“Need a surfing fan for your next film?” She put her palm on his very fine chest and rubbed up and down.

He covered her hand with his to stop her momentum. “If you’re anywhere near my next film it won’t be as a fan.”

“No? What would you make me do?” She tilted her head to the side.

“You sure you want me to answer that right here with the theater staff all watching us?”

She jumped back and turned to find that yes, it seemed she and Zane were on display this morning. And from the grins on the one-two-three-four older faces staring around the front entrance, they were enjoying themselves.

“Bye, Zane.” She gave him a nod and strode away, keenly aware that his eyes were on her backside. She put an extra wiggle in her walk because freaking Zane Hollander wanted to enjoy her. And she’d never been more full of life.

Chapter Nine

“I like the way you think, son,” SHE’s co-founder and executive director, Jon Waldron, said. “And I think you’ve got great potential to lead this newer breed of surf nonprofiteers.” He got up from the poolside table at the White Strand Inn and extended his arm.

Zane, Bryce, and Danny stood. Zane shook the man’s hand. “Thanks, Jon. You have no idea what it means to me to be part of the movement fueling surf philanthropy in our own backyard and globally.”

“It’s been great to meet you in person and put aside the rumors that gave us pause. I can see you’re a man of integrity,” Jon said, shaking hands with Bryce and Danny, too. “My partner and better half arrives tomorrow. Lunch again?”

“Absolutely,” Zane said. “And we’ve got a seat reserved for you at the screening tonight if you’d like to attend.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Bryce stepped around the table. “And give you the details.”

“Great.” Jon smiled and gave Zane a nod.

“Dude.” Danny slapped him on the back as soon as Bryce and Jon were out of view. “That could not have gone any better.”

“Yeah. Hey listen, I’m going to catch a few waves before we head over to the Cove.” Zane fanned his T-shirt away from his stomach.

“You okay?” Danny asked.

“Fine. I’ll catch up with you later.” He needed to get his ass in the water, and so that’s the direction he went.

He toed off his shoes, pulled his shirt over his head, and left them at the sand’s edge. Not much empty space existed on the beach, and he kept his head down, hoping to avoid notice. A small group of teenage boys toweled off, their surfboards still wet.

“Hey, mind if I borrow one of these for a few?” Zane picked up one of the boards.

“You’re Zane Hollander,” a tall kid said, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yep.” Zane put out his hand and shook each boy’s. “This cool?” He nodded at the board.

“Totally. Take your time.”

“And do me a favor? Keep it on the down low.” He didn’t want them following and drawing attention to his presence.

Four heads nodded.

“Thanks,” he said and hit the water. He paddled far enough out to get lost in the pack of surfers. Straddling the board, he drifted and instead of concentrating on catching the next wave, thought about what Jon had said.

I like the way you think, son.

The compliment had literally stopped his heart from beating for a second. Jon had no idea the weight those words carried, and Zane wanted to believe them.

He wanted to have them fucking tattooed on his body.

Jon Waldron didn’t pull punches. He spoke from the heart. Zane had read enough about him to know that. Zane tried to do the same. Always had. His mom had taught him from the time he started school that the heart told the truth. If he listened to it, she’d say, he could do no wrong.

Funny, his dad never got that memo.

Probably because the man didn’t have a heart.

What reasons had he given his father to treat him so poorly and call him stupid, dumb, dense, asinine, everything but the name he’d been given?

He’d been a wild kid, sure, but no different from any of the other kids he hung out with. Thinking back on it now, he’d never gotten into any serious trouble besides ditching classes. And that started after his father’s insults took up more headspace than the idea of studying to get good grades. But had he ever failed a class? No. Gotten a D? No.

With minimal effort—shit, did he even open some of those textbooks?—he’d managed to move to the next grade level without having to repeat a class.

So why?

Sunlight glittered off the water. Rays of sunshine warmed his shoulders and back. The only reason he could think of was surfing. He’d excelled in the water so much that everyone talked about him. The local paper kept up with him. Attention from girls made him popular.

Maybe his dad
was
jealous.

But, he realized, his dad pushed him out there. The Pacific became his sanctuary, his hideout, his home. His skin would be so shriveled when he finally walked through the sliding glass kitchen door that Julia called him Wrinkle Boy. His father would say, “Hey dumbass, did you get any better today?”

At the time, Zane thought his dad’s words a put-down. But maybe that had been his way of saying
keep at it
. His father had worked hard for his success. Made a lot of money in banking, but Zane never thought his old man was happy doing it. Did Zane’s happiness in the water piss him off? Or make him proud in a way he didn’t know how to relate to?

He’d never know. But thanks to his father’s sending him on his way at sixteen, Zane had gotten to be the best at something.

Speaking of that something, nice-sized rideable bumps followed one after the other. Zane paddled and caught the next wave. He rode it all the way in, no need for a repeat.

Because for the first time ever, he craved something more than surfing. He returned the board and wondered where he might find a certain redhead.

…

People were everywhere. They surrounded the concrete ring and yellow crackling flames of the bonfire. They were cuddled up on blankets a few paces back from the towering firelight. They sat in lawn chairs and directly in the sand, some with legs intertwined, others holding hands.

“Wow,” Zane said as he, Bryce, and Danny trudged through the crowd. “I had no idea we’d have this many people here.”

“Word of mouth and Sophie’s magic touch,” Danny said.

At mention of Sophie, the burn to see her grew a hundredfold. He hadn’t found her earlier. “Any idea where she’s at?” he asked just before he was mobbed by eager fans. Fans he was grateful for. He took the time to sign, take pictures, and leave a voice message for a woman’s son in the military overseas. When finished, they continued the short distance toward the Cove.

A huge outdoor screen had been set up to show his film. Folding chairs were lined in rows. Chinese lanterns on tall iron stakes decorated the perimeter. Behind the screen, the steep mountainside that contributed to this spot’s name gleamed with the setting sun.

The first two rows of seats were roped off for his team of filmmakers, the cast, and special guests. Jon Waldron had arrived already. And he was talking to Sophie.

God, she looked amazing. The crown of orange-and-yellow light dipping below the horizon was nothing compared to the crown of light around her. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her to somewhere private so he could worship every inch of her. Starting with that mouth that had rocked his world last night.

Bryce and Danny must have noticed his focus zero in on Jon and Sophie because they deflected the two reporters who approached.

“Jon, hey,” Zane said. “Thanks for coming.” He turned to Sophie. “Hi, Sophie. It looks awesome out here. Thank you.”

She held his gaze and smiled wide. “You’re welcome. You’ve got a lot of fans anxious to see your film. I forgot to ask if you’d like to say a few words before the movie starts.”

“How about I let my director and producer do that?” They deserved just as much, if not more, credit than he did.

“Sounds good.”

“Sophie was just about to give me a little history lesson on bonfires,” Jon said.

“Not really a lesson, since I only wanted to share that the word ‘bonfire’ comes from the late fifteenth century. It originally meant a fire in which bones were burned.”

Jon gave a wink, the kind Zane imagined he gave to his grandchildren. “You’re a smart cookie, young lady.”

“She is,” Zane agreed. “Would you mind if I borrowed her for a few minutes?”

“Not at all.”

Zane slipped Sophie’s arm through his and led her away.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, a little hitch in her voice he liked a lot.

“Somewhere I can show you how much I missed you.”

“And tell me how your meeting went? Mr. Waldron seems like such a nice man.”

Zane glanced down at Sophie’s bare feet, her dark capri pants, and hung a left. Wet sand met their steps, the low tide tranquil. “It went great. What you said to me helped. He’s got nine grandkids and is all over reaching a younger set of philanthropists.”

She wrapped her free arm around him for a quick hug. “I’m really happy for you.”

They rounded the jagged edge of the mountain and entered the tiny alcove that gave total privacy. He walked them away from the water until the sand’s grains turned soft and dry, and then damn the consequences, he brought her down with him.

“Zane!” She squirmed and tried to rise, but he kept her pinned beneath him. When her eyes met his, she relaxed. Her hands went to his face, and she kissed him.

He kissed her back. Kissed her with everything he had inside him. She had the softest lips, and they pressed against his with the kind of tenderness and playfulness he could easily lose himself to. When he nipped, she nipped back. When he let his tongue slide against her bottom lip, she licked back. And when she moved her hold to his shoulders and raked her nails down his back, he couldn’t restrain his groan.

She wrapped a leg around his and brought him closer. He shifted so their hips lined up, and when she moved against him, lust torpedoed through his veins. If there weren’t hundreds of people on the other side of the rock, he’d take her right here.

A tiny gasp slipped from her lips. She’d felt his eagerness, no doubt.

“Zane,” she breathed, and in the back of his mind, he thought,
This woman. I want this woman to say my name on the caress of a kiss a thousand more times.
“I need to get back.”

Pulling away from her felt like ripping the muscle off his bones. He took a minute to stare down at her to ease the pain.

“What are you seeing now?” she asked, the gentle tide almost drowning out her soft tone.

“When I look at you?”

“Yes.” Her hair was fanned out around her head in glorious waves. Her cheeks were the color of the last rays of sunshine behind him. And her pillowy lips were temptation personified.

“I see a woman who is smart, compassionate, too beautiful for words. You do this thing to me that is unsettling and intoxicating at the same time.” And no one else had done it before.

“Thing?”

He played with a strand of her hair. “Yeah, you know,
thing
.” He’d wished for endless summers his whole life. What he wished for now was endless Sophie.

“No one’s ever had a thing for me before.” Her eyes sparkled in pleasure, and he was glad to have been the one to do that.

“You’ve been with some real losers, then.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I’ve always had trouble in that department, but I think you’ve fixed me.”

“You’ve got that backward.” She’d repaired so many broken things inside him…the way he saw himself, his confidence out of the water, his optimism. “You—”

Her finger pressed to his lips. “Shh. Kiss me one more time and let’s leave it at that. You’re a really good kisser.”

“And that’s with my clothes on.” He grabbed her wrist and slid her finger into his mouth for a slow taste up and down.

A visible gulp made its way down her throat. “So you’re saying we should try kissing without any clothes on?”

“Say the word, Sophie.” Oh, the things he wanted to do to her naked body. Things he suspected her past boyfriends might not have done. He shouldn’t. He’d known all along he shouldn’t. But he wasn’t strong enough to fight his desire for her.

“What word would that be?”

He arched a brow. “If I tell you, do you promise to use it?”

She glanced away, and he thought he was going to get shot down. First time that ever happened. But a second later, her gaze hit him with a deadly combination of innocence and sexiness that yanked at every part of his maleness. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to bury himself inside her.

He wanted to… Jesus, he had to stop thinking like anything with her could go beyond the next few days. She deserved so much more than he had to offer.

“Yes,” she whispered.

His lips captured hers in promise. He kissed her until he was sure she knew he’d take good care of her. Until she nudged him and said, “I really need to get back now.”

…

Sophie sat in the very last row watching Zane’s film, but she couldn’t process a darn thing. Yes, she was mesmerized by a giant Zane up on the screen, surfing insane waves and coming out of tubes, or barrels, or whatever they were called, with surf-god sexiness and skill, but all she could really think about was saying the word.

“You are so achingly beautiful,” he’d told her when he’d lifted her off the sand with tenderness and affection. “Tell me you ache to have me inside you and I will.” He’d wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her flush against him, and she’d felt how excited he was. For her.

She’d never thought she’d hear words like that. Never thought someone like him could see her as pretty, yet he’d said so a few times now.

Thinking about her hand in his, his kisses, his touches, reignited the riot of tingles he caused whenever he was near. She ached between her legs, in her breasts, right this very minute, and she hoped no one noticed.

The thought of their bodies intimately connected made it hard to think about anything else. She’d better not have any important conversations this evening. They’d be quashed by her lust for Zane.

It’s more than lust and you know it.

She wiggled her toes in the sand and wrapped her arms around herself. She’d teetered between hot and cold all night. Near the bonfire, warmth spread its reach, but it didn’t quite make it to this last row of plastic chairs. She hadn’t planned on tonight’s cooler temperature and left her sweater in her hotel room.