A Timeless Romance Anthology: Spring Vacation Collection (3 page)

“Besides, our boss will be asking us for a detailed report,” Brylee said with a nod. “I bet he’ll have quizzes and everything.”

“Okay, okay,” Clint said, putting up his hands in surrender. “I withdraw the offer, but who’s up for parasailing after the conference tomorrow? It gets out at, what, two o’clock?”

“I’m totally up for parasailing,” Brylee said. “If the weather’s good.”

“Me, too,” Mark agreed.

Sarah was chewing, but she nodded and smiled. Clint smiled back; she hoped it was because she was endearingly cute, even with her mouth full.

Dinner was fantastic—shrimp tacos with mango salsa—and by the time the waiter came around with coffee, Sarah was feeling much more comfortable.

“So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the night?” Mark asked after the waiter took their checks—they’d each paid for their own meals tonight.

“Weren’t we going to catch the game?” Clint asked, turning to Mark. “You’re the guy who pointed out the sports bar at the hotel on our way over here.”

“I don’t know if the ladies wanted to listen to you swear all night, though.”

Game?
Sarah didn’t know enough about sports to even know what type of sport was played this time of year. Baseball?

“The Trailblazers-Bulls game?” Brylee said, straightening up and leaning slightly forward. “They’re showing it here somewhere?”

“We just call it the Trailblazer game,” Clint said with a playful grin.

“Oh, the Bulls are going to wipe the floor with the Blazers tonight,” Brylee said, throwing down her napkin as though it were a gauntlet. Sarah kept her mouth shut so as not to betray her ignorance.

“No way.” Clint hit the table sharply with his palm. He took a final sip of his drink and stood, holding his hand out to Sarah once he was on his feet. “You up for it?”

“Sure,” she said, far more interested in spending time with him than in watching the game. But this was the kind of thing normal women did, right? Hang out in sports bars with their men? The thought made her cheeks burn. Clint wasn’t her
man
. Thank goodness no one could read her mind.

“Why are you blushing?” Brylee whispered a few seconds later as they headed toward the hotel.

“Nothing,” Sarah said, but worried she was blushing all over again. “Let’s go watch some basketball—it
is
basketball, right?”

Chapter Five

It was still raining when they left the restaurant for the sports bar, which was back at the hotel, and once again the girls took off their shoes and made a run for it. The bar was loud and smoky, and it got louder and smokier as the evening wore on. Sarah cheered when everyone else cheered and even ordered a fruity drink, though she only took tiny sips. Mark stayed in the booth with her for a while, explaining the game, while Brylee and Clint cheered with the crowd gathered in front of the large TV. Sarah told Mark several times that he could join the group—she felt bad dominating his time—but he said he didn’t mind and she appreciated his efforts to both educate her and not leave her alone at the table.

By the last few minutes of the fourth quarter, Sarah felt like she actually understood what was happening—her dad would be so proud. “Thanks for your help,” she said to Mark. They sat on opposite benches of the booth. “I hope it didn’t take away from your enjoying the game.”

“Made it even better,” he said, smiling over the rim of his drink. He did that thing again where he held her eyes a second longer than it seemed like he should. She felt herself blushing as she looked away. He wasn’t hitting on her, was he? She wasn’t experienced enough to know.

“And that’s the game,” Clint said when the final point had been scored, winning the game for the Trailblazers 104 to 99. He came back to the booth and slid into the bench, automatically draping his arm around Sarah’s shoulder. Like they were a couple. Like they watched games together at sports bars all the time. Sarah searched for that tingle again—the chemistry she’d been expecting to feel. But once again, her nerves seemed to take center stage.

Brylee slid into the booth next to Mark. “If the refs hadn’t been obviously drunk, it would have turned out completely different,” Brylee said, dunking a chip in the salsa.

“You are so full of it,” Clint said, loudly enough to make Sarah wonder how many beers he’d had. Five? Six? He and Brylee went on to argue about the game. Mark joined in a time or two, but he was the least determined of the three. Sarah ate more chips, fully aware of Clint’s arm still draped across her shoulders.

“What do you think?” Clint asked, turning to Sarah, his face only inches from hers. She could smell alcohol on his breath, so she faced forward, suddenly tense all over again. “Who do you think deserved to win that game?”

He started slowly trailing his fingers up and down her arm. How long had it been since a man had touched her like this? Tender. Flirty. “I think the Yankees deserved to win the pennant this year, no question,” she said.

Everyone laughed—thank goodness—and then Mark and Brylee began discussing a particular play while Clint leaned back against the seat, pulling Sarah with him. His hand was still rubbing Sarah’s shoulder, but as much as she wanted to enjoy it, she could only take note of her rising anxiety. With his other hand, he continued drinking his beer.

She tried to relax into him, and was halfway to convincing herself that she was enjoying the closeness, when she felt his fingers brush her hair away from her shoulder. A moment later she felt hot breath on her neck. Her entire body froze. Apparently he’d put down his beer.

She felt his lips on her skin a moment later. Rather than melting inside, she stiffened even more, and goose bumps broke out across her body. His lips felt hot. And wet. That should have turned her on, right? But it didn’t. It completely freaked her out. She wasn’t ready. This was their first evening together, and he wanted to make out in a bar? “I’m going to get some more salsa,” Brylee said, but she flashed Sarah a smile on her way out of the booth. Sarah didn’t return it.

Sarah glanced at Mark, but he was intently watching the TV, though she suspected he was ignoring them on purpose. She was on her own.

“Hey,” she said to Clint, unwrapping herself from him as carefully as possible and looking toward the end of the bench. He was blocking her from being able to get out of the booth. “We’ve got an early morning, don’t we?” His features were soft, his eyes glassy. He was so drunk. “Aren’t you tired?”

He scooted closer. She pulled away, but that simply cornered her against the side of the booth. She felt her heart rate increasing for all the wrong reasons. She looked toward Mark again, needing help, and this time, she caught his eye.

“Hey, Clint,” Mark said, moving toward the end of his bench. “It
is
getting late.”

“The night’s young,” Clint said, smiling at Sarah, who pressed against the wall of the booth as much as she could.

“Clint,” Mark said again, some sharpness in his voice. Clint turned to look at him, annoyed. “Let the lady out of the booth.”

“She doesn’t want to get out,” Clint said, turning back to Sarah and putting his hand on her knee, smiling drunkenly.

“I really do,” she said, forcing a smile that she knew showed her discomfort and moving his hand from her knee. She lowered her voice a little in hopes that only Clint would hear it. “This is a little fast for me.”

“Fast?” Clint said. “We’ve been together all evening.”

A moment later, Mark’s hand appeared on Clint’s shoulder. “Come on, buddy,” he said. “You didn’t sleep any better than I did last night. We need to rest up for tomorrow.”

Clint protested a little, but Mark didn’t let go, and eventually Clint got out of the booth, which allowed Sarah to scoot out as well.

Once she was on her feet, Mark stepped in front of her so that he stood between her and Clint, though he wasn’t overt about it. “You okay?” he asked her quietly.

“I’m fine,” Sarah said, feeling embarrassed now that she was free. She didn’t like needing rescue. Yet, Mark
had
rescued her, or at least, he’d spared her from having to make a scene. “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you to your room,” Clint said, pushing in front of Mark.

Mark grabbed Clint’s arm just above the elbow and pulled him back. “I think she’d rather find it on her own.”

Sarah understood what Mark didn’t say—
Go!

“See you in the morning,” she said, smiling at them both. “I had a really nice evening. Thanks.”

Clint mumbled something she didn’t hear, because she’d already gone to get Brylee, who said goodbye to a guy she’d met at the salsa refill station.

“So,” Brylee said, nudging Sarah with her shoulder as they headed out of the bar. “I saw you getting all snuggly. How was that?”

“Weird,” Sarah said, shaking her head at the memory. “He’s wasted.”

“And?”

Sarah turned to look at her friend. “And I’d prefer for him to be in his right mind when we…”

“What?” Brylee said, a teasing glint in her eye as they reached the elevators. “When you what, Sarah?”

“When we walk on the beach in the moonlight.” Sarah waved toward the windows behind them as the elevator doors opened. “But it’s raining anyway, so I guess I’m taking a
rain
-check.”

Brylee laughed at the pun and hit the button inside the elevator. “You’re happy with the way the evening went, though?”

“Yeah,” Sarah said, but the parts that stood out to her were the meal, Mark helping her understand the game, and Mark getting her out of an awkward situation at the end. She felt guilty, and a little ungrateful, that it wasn’t Clint taking center stage in her memories of their first date. “I think I built this up too much in my head.”

“What do you mean?” Brylee asked as they stepped off the elevator and headed toward their room.

“I’m so nervous around Clint,” Sarah said. “I had hoped for this spark between us, ya know? Some … chemistry, I guess, but I’m just so tense.”

“It’s the first day,” Brylee said. They’d reached their room, and Brylee used her key card to open the door. Sarah followed her in and kicked off her shoes. “And you’re probably right,” Brylee continued. “Nerves can get in the way. I bet tomorrow will be better.”

“I hope so,” Sarah said, locking the door behind them. Her life was routine, very predictable and safe. She liked those things, which was why accounting worked so well for her as a career. This wasn’t accounting though; it was personable and emotional and … new. “Tomorrow will be better,” she said out loud as a kind of affirmation after Brylee disappeared into the bathroom. “Tomorrow will be great.”

Chapter Six

Sarah and Clint sat next to each other at breakfast the next morning. The other conference attendees at their table helped ease Sarah’s nerves and kept the conversation moving. Neither Sarah nor Clint said anything about how last night had ended.

 The day’s classes and events went as expected, and when they were over, the four of them hit the beach in search of a boat that could take them parasailing. The storm from last night had moved on, leaving sunny skies, soft sand, and a glittering ocean for them to enjoy.

Sarah didn’t think she’d have the guts to parasail—she’d never done anything like that before—but she didn’t back down when her turn came, and then she loved every second of it. Being alone up there, looking down on the ocean and the beach, was completely different than what she had expected—exhilarating, to say the least. When she came in for her landing, Clint, Mark, and Brylee were cheering for her, which felt equally fabulous. Once she was out of the harness, Clint gave her a big hug and kissed her on the cheek.

She happened to be looking at Mark and Brylee at that moment. Brylee had a big smile on her face and gave Sarah a thumbs-up. Mark looked away. There was no time to ponder on Mark’s reaction, because Brylee announced that it was time for them to get ready for dinner—they had reservations in just over an hour.

On the way back to the hotel, the two women completely dissected the day, and by the time Sarah was showered and ready for dinner, she felt more confident than ever. She’d had a wonderful time today—unexpectedly good—which would, no doubt, help with her anxiety tonight. She thought about calling Rose but decided not to, wondering if part of her being so on edge last night was because calling her daughter had made Sarah miss her more. If her theory was wrong—and tonight she was as nervous as ever—she’d be sure to call tomorrow.

Dinner was wonderful—she had an enchilada salad, and Clint had only one glass of wine. The four of them conversed easily and about many topics. Though they had all just met, they felt like old friends, laughing and joking and enjoying the night. When the checks came, Clint paid for her meal, which was both exciting and a little nerve racking. Mark paid for Brylee’s too, though, and there didn’t seem to be anything romantic between them.

“Anyone up for a walk on the beach?” Clint said when the meal came to an end. The sun had set during their meal, leaving a few swaths of orange across the evening sky.

Sarah had been aware the entire time that it wasn’t raining tonight. She’d known this would be coming. Yet nerves and butterflies seemed to combine within her chest, making her dizzy with anticipation. “I’d love to,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too nervous or inexperienced.

“I wanted to check out the club next door,” Brylee chimed in, taking the napkin from her lap and putting it on the table. Sarah knew that what her friend really wanted to do was leave Clint and Sarah. “Mark, would you like to join me?”

“Um, sure,” he said, scooping the final bite of his dinner with his fork. He’d completely cleaned his plate. Rose got a star on her chart every time she ate her entire dinner. “I can’t say I’m much of a club kid, but I’m happy to head over there with you.”

“Maybe I’ll make you into a club kid by the end of the night,” Brylee said with a smile. A pang of jealousy took Sarah off guard, but she didn’t know where it came from. She wasn’t jealous of them going to a club—not by a long shot. Was she jealous that Brylee was spending the rest of the evening with Mark? Sarah mentally shook her head—it was probably nerves again, masking what she
really
felt.