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Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss) Page 20
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Sophie picked up her drink off the coffee table, raised her arm, and said, “To decluttering.”
The next morning, she took Honor fishing at a tiny spot on the edge of Lake Sycamore. They stopped on the way to rent rods and reels and buy bait from the tackle shop her dad always took her to when she was younger. Sophie had never done this before on her own, which made the adventure that much more fun.
Or funnier, depending on how you looked at it.
They’d been sitting on the embankment above the lake for half an hour and still had no idea how to put the hook on the end of their line.
“We probably should have had the guy at the shop do this for us,” Honor said.
“Yeah. That would have been smart.”
“Want to fish without them?”
Sophie chuckled. “The fish will probably thank us for that.”
“The world could use more thankful fish,” Honor deadpanned.
And they both cracked up. Sophie had no idea what they would’ve done if they’d caught one anyway. Spending some quiet time near water on the last day of summer had just seemed like a nice idea. She missed the sea, and this was as close as she was going to get.
After a couple of over-the-shoulder attempts, they got their lines in the lake. “Now if anyone comes by, we’ll look like we know what we’re doing,” Honor said.
“You always look like you know what you’re doing,” Sophie complimented.
She bumped Sophie’s shoulder. “I’m good at faking it.”
A small fishing boat sailed within shouting range with two very cute guys on board. “Gotten any bites?” one of them called.
“Not yet,” Honor shouted back. “But the day’s still young.”
The boat slowed; the guys smiled and nodded.
“They are totally checking you out,” Honor said under her breath.
A shiver stole over Sophie. They certainly didn’t seem to be avoiding her. Maybe it was her hair? She’d gotten it trimmed and styled a little differently a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe it was the turquoise top she had on?
Or maybe it was the smile she wasn’t too shy to share with them.
“Well, good luck.” Their boat slipped past, and as soon as they’d gone a little farther down the lake, she and Honor giggled.
“Nice rod-holding, sister,” Honor said and bumped Sophie’s knee. “We totally kept our cool.”
Sophie bumped her back. “You, too.” Sister. The closest thing she had to one sat beside her. “Oh, snap. I hadn’t realized the time. We better get going. My mom hates it when I’m late.”
Honor got to her feet. “Have you ever been late?”
“You know, I don’t think so.” Sophie reeled in her line.
“I swear that’s an irritation moms put in their daughters’ minds completely unfounded.”
One among many on her mom’s part, Sophie thought. But today’s lunch was about more than introducing her mom to Honor. It was about her future.
She and Honor got to the outdoor café and were met with a wave and smile from her mother, already seated and menu in hand. “Hey, Mom.” Sophie gave her a kiss on the cheek. “This is Honor. Honor, my mom, Sarah.”
“Nice to meet you,” Honor said.
“Sit, sit,” her mom said, waving them toward two cushioned wood chairs. “I’m so happy to meet a new friend of Sophie’s. I’ve already ordered us passion fruit lemonades.”
As moms went, Sophie’s was striking. Short blond hair never out of place, bright blue eyes, and a figure that if she ever dressed less conservatively would make girls Sophie’s age jealous.
“Oh, this drink looks yummy too,” Honor said, pointing at a cocktail on the laminated “Specials” menu on the table.
Sophie’s mom’s eyes widened. “At lunch?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?” Honor grinned. “How about you, Soph? You did mention on the way over that this was a celebration.”
“Sophie doesn’t—”
“The lemonade is delicious here, Mom, but I do have some news and would like to join Honor in a drink. You should, too.” Sophie worried her hands in her lap but sat with a straight back.
“Is that a new blouse?” her mom asked, her gaze dropping to the low scoop neck.
“It is.”
Something Sophie couldn’t pinpoint—resignation, worry, uncertainty maybe—flashed across her mom’s face. “And I’ve got some exciting news to share.” She’d briefly filled Honor in on the drive over, knowing her friend would squeal with delight and wanting that wholehearted support.
“Remember how I mentioned I’ve been looking for a new job?” Sophie said. “Still in event planning, but with a large charity organization.”
“I remember.”
A smile lifted the corner of Sophie’s mouth thinking about the opportunity in front of her. “Well, there’s a job available with the American Cancer Society for a regional specialist for their Relay for Life functions. I’ve got an interview on Monday.”
Honor reached down and squeezed Sophie’s hand. “That sounds like a great opportunity, and I hope you get it. They’d be fools not to hire you.”
Sophie watched her mother purse her lips. This was it, the final declaration that Sophie would not be going back to research like her parents hoped. “Mom?”
“This is what you truly want?”
“Yes.”
Sarah Birch blinked as her chest rose and fell. “Then I hope you get it, too. Your father and I only want what’s best for you, and we are proud of the woman you’ve become.”
Sophie leaned over and hugged her mom. “Thank you.”
Honor waved her arm to catch the waiter’s attention. “I think we need to make a toast.”
Another job possibility loomed on the horizon, too, but Sophie didn’t even want to think about that one. It was a dream job, though in truth, she wasn’t sure she could accept an offer even if it came.
One week later, though, she straightened her eyeglasses atop her nose, not because they were crooked, but because she couldn’t be reading her email right.
Two job offers. She had two job offers.
Her forehead hit her work desk. She squeezed her eyes shut. Holy sugar snap peas.
She had a big decision to make.
…
Zane sat on the beach along the southwest coast of France and stared at his cell. He’d thought about calling or texting Sophie a hundred times to apologize. To tell her the truth. To ask her to forgive him, meet him somewhere so they could talk.
He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. Out of his heart.
What a fool he was to think he could leave things the way they were and move on. But every time his fingers got close to pressing her number, he stopped. She had a life. A job he had no doubt she was thriving at. A home in Montana.
It wasn’t her fault she’d become his home and he felt lost without her.
It was her fault he’d been miserable in the water and surfing like shit. Misery and the sea had never ever gone hand in hand before, but all he could think about when he was out there was swimming and surfing with her.
Out in the water, he no longer stayed in the moment. He lived Sophie moments. Over and over again. And hell if he could stop them.
The bliss he used to feel when riding sizable waves—gone. The meditative, spiritual, ethereal sorts of thoughts he had riding waves—gone. The world no longer fell away and he wanted to blame Sophie, but really the only person to blame was himself.
He’d let the best thing that ever happened to him walk away. And hurt her in the process.
“Dude, you look like your brain’s about to explode,” Bryce said, coming in from the water with a surfboard tucked under his arm and sitting down. Most everyone had left for the day, the sun hanging by a few late afternoon threads.
“Just concentrating on the surf,” Zane lied. “Nice ride for an amateur.”
“You left it wide open for me.”
“I’m nice like
that.”
“Yeah, not usually. What gives? You handed over the win today, dude. You’ve got me worried you’re thinking about going SHE full time.”
The announcement from SHE had gone live a week ago, and the congratulations and kudos continued to pour in. He had his new position on his mind, yes. To be chosen for this role was his greatest accomplishment, and for the first time, he felt worthy of his fans. But give up the tour? No way. After his dismal performance today, knocking him out of the competition and leaving it wide open for someone else, he was pissed off just enough to want the next one even more.
“And let one of the other guys have all the glory? I don’t think so.”
“That’s a relief. I know you’ve got more championships left in you.”
“Definitely.” He hoped.
They sat in silence for a while watching the waves roll in. The peacefulness didn’t help clear the thoughts plaguing Zane.
“So.” Bryce broke into the quiet. “If it’s not SHE that’s got you preoccupied, what is it?”
Zane shrugged.
“We haven’t talked about it, but I’ve noticed you keeping your distance from even the nice girls since the film festival. Is it because of Sophie?”
Plenty of opportunity had presented itself, but the only woman he wanted in his bed lived in the Treasure State. Zane wove his fingers through the sand. “If I said leave it alone, would you?”
“Nope. You’ve got to get whatever’s bugging you off your chest. And it just so happens I’m a good listener.”
“That minor in psychology is going to make the hair on your chest fall out.”
“Whatever, dude. Talk.”
“I said some terrible things to her and about her. Things I wish I could take back. Things that weren’t true, but at the time I had my reasons.”
“The ‘her’ is Sophie?”
“Yeah. And shame’s pretty much been my constant companion ever since.”
“She called you on it?” Bryce asked, his tone supportive, nonjudgmental.
“She did. And put me in my place. But I hurt her. I thought being in the water and getting back to the tour would help get me over it, but it hasn’t,” he admitted, his gaze on the inky water as sunlight faded.
“You met a girl.”
“Not just any girl.”
He and Bryce exchanged glances. Growing up, he, Bryce, and Danny had used that phrase whenever they’d fallen for a girl and wanted to spend time with her instead of with the other two surf amigos.
Zane let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I met the girl.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
Bryce turned to him. “No wonder you’re surfing like shit. Dude, you need to get your mind back in the game, and in order to do that, you’ve got to own up to your feelings. Otherwise they’ll keep dragging you down. Apologize, send her flowers, hell, send her a plane ticket to meet you in Portugal for the next event. Write her poetry. Do something.” He shook his head. “Jesus, I do sound like I forgot I have a penis.”
“I appreciate it,” Zane said, giving Bryce’s shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Good. Now pick up your damn phone, call her, and start the ball rolling.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“No?” Bryce grabbed his phone. “Watch.”
Zane snatched it back. “She deserves someone better than me.”
“Better than Zane Hollander? Or more accessible? Because, bro, there is no one better than you. Every guy on this tour admires you. And not just because of your skill in the water. They want to be you outside the waves, too. No one interacts better with his fans than you do. No one else is more likable.
“If it’s your schedule that’s keeping you from getting what you really want, then that’s just ridiculous.”
Zane flinched. He’d thought the smart thing to do was leave Sophie to meet someone else. “I don’t want to take her away from the things she loves to be with me.”
“How about letting her decide? This isn’t all about you. It’s about her, too, you know.”
“It’s always been about her.”
“Okay, so make it about you for a minute. If given the chance to make things right, would you want a second chance?”
Zane wondered if he’d let his fear of hearing Sophie say she couldn’t be with him rule his actions. He’d always gone after what he wanted. Always. Whether he deserved it or not. But then he’d always been fairly sure of the outcome. He had a strong feeling Sophie cared a lot about him. He’d seen that flash of love in her eyes, hadn’t he? But did she love him enough to forgive him?
If he didn’t tell her he loved her, he’d regret it the rest of his life. Sophie was a smart woman. She could make up her own mind. He didn’t need to make it for her.
“Thanks, man,” Zane said.
“I’ll send you my bill.”
“You do that.” And in the meantime, Zane had a trip to Montana to plan. What he wanted to say to Sophie had to be said in person.
…
Zane got out of the taxi, surfboard in hand. His feet hit the sidewalk and stuck there as he stared at the fine two-story house. Shrubbery and flowers decorated the front. A forest in every shade of green imaginable filled the space to the sides and behind. He breathed in the woodsy, fresh air, so different from the scent of the ocean.
Cars filled the long driveway. The muffled sound of voices, loud, happy, numerous, reached his ears. He’d crashed parties before, but not quite like this.
The knot in his stomach tightened. Fourteen-foot waves didn’t make him this nervous.
He’d given Sophie no warning of his arrival, deciding the next time he heard her voice he’d be standing in front of her.
His flight had felt like forever. He’d arrived in Montana this morning and, thanks to a little help from Honor, had gone straight to Sophie’s apartment only to find she wasn’t there.
Lucky for him, her neighbor heard his knocking and came out into the hall. The older woman told him Sophie had left to go to a party at her parents’ house. When Zane asked if she might have the address, she’d eyed the surfboard like it had fangs and no way in hell would she give him any info.
So he’d laid on the charm. A minute later, she was getting her address book to find the Birches’ address. She’d taught Sophie’s mom algebra back in high school and her daughter was close friends with Mrs. Birch, so that’s why she knew where they lived, she’d explained.
And now here he stood, ready to declare his love for Sophie in front of her entire family if necessary.
He walked up to the front door and rang the bell. A young girl, maybe ten or eleven, greeted him. “Hello?”
“Hi. Is Sophie here?” He felt like a kid himself all of a sudden, ringing the next-door neighbor’s bell to play with the girl he had a crush on.
“Who wants to know?” She put her hand on her hip.
Zane smiled. “Zane Hollander. I’m a friend of hers.”
“Why do you have a surfboard?”
“It’s for Sophie.”
“She doesn’t surf.”
“I think she does.”
“Becky, what are you— Oh, hello. Can I help you?” An older version of Becky came around the doorframe. The older version liked what she saw a lot more than younger Becky had, her eyes taking him in top to bottom before settling back on his face.
“I’m here to see Sophie. Is it okay if I come in?”
“Sophie Birch?” the woman asked in surprise.
“That’s the one.”
The woman frowned. “Really?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything. And I’m pretty anxious to see her, so if I could come in, that would be great.”
“Okay. Sure.” She opened the door wider, and Zane stepped through. “I think she’s in the back. Follow me.”
“Whose party is it?” Zane asked, smiling and nodding at the people he passed.
“I
t’s my aunt and uncle’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary,” the woman tossed over her shoulder. “They’re leaving later today for a trip to Niagara Falls, so we’re celebrating with brunch this morning.”
Wow. He liked his timing.
They entered the backyard, where colored balloons were tied to chairs and kids were running around.
Zane stopped and scanned the area. Someone bumped into him from behind and he turned to find that everyone who had been in the house had followed him out.
“Sophie,” Older Becky called out. “There’s someone here to see you.”
In the middle of a group of women standing on the grass, he found her. His heart tripped over itself, got up, and tripped again. She twisted around and their eyes met.
Her tan had vanished and she wore her glasses. She had on a powder-blue V-neck sweater, jeans, and flip-flops. Wavy red hair, a little shorter than the last time he’d seen her, fell around her shoulders. God, she was beautiful.
“Zane?” she said, shocked. But it didn’t overtake the sweet, soft sound of her voice, and for that he was grateful.
He strode right toward her, his gaze never leaving the turquoise-green depths he’d missed like crazy. “Hi.”
She blinked up at him like she wasn’t sure she could trust her vision. “Hi?”
“Think I could have a word with you?”
“Sophie, who is this young man?” a woman said, sidling up to Sophie and linking arms.
“This…this is Zane.” She kept staring at him like she couldn’t believe it.
“Zane Hollander.” He put out his hand. “I’m guessing you must be Sophie’s mom. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Sarah Birch.” She shook his hand, but her eyes were wary. “What do you want with Sophie?”
That was a loaded question. One he didn’t think Sophie would appreciate him answering honestly in front of a crowd. A crowd that had grown and circled them and no doubt wouldn’t let him escape with Sophie without some kind of explanation.
An older man at Sarah’s left cleared his throat. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Mr. Birch?” Zane asked, a splinter of worry digging under his skin. Her father’s approval meant a lot to him, but not more than Sophie’s forgiveness.
“I’m Sophie’s father, yes.”