Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss) (7 page)

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

Authors: Robin Bielman

Tags: #fake relationship, #small-town romance, #Marina Adair, #Terri Osburn, #opposites attract, #Catherine Bybee, #surfer, #Victoria James, #category romance

BOOK: Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss)
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“They were both amazing.” Sophie let out a deep breath.

“Agreed,” Zane and Midge said.

“But I’ve got to give the edge to Alex. Something about that burger is damn near out of this world.” Zane reached out and ran the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. “A little sauce,” he said.

Sophie couldn’t speak. Her lip tickled from such an intimate gesture. Without thinking, she darted her tongue out to lick anything he missed. Zane watched her with interest that was as much unsettling as it was exciting. Quivers swept up her arms.

But again, he confused her. Was this for show or something genuine? Surely everyone in the audience had their eyes on him.

Midge cleared her throat. “It’s a hard decision, but his unique culinary talent, not to mention his buns, gets my vote as well.”

“What do you think, Sophie? Want to convince us we’re mistaken?” Zane said.

She delighted in his question and appreciated his willingness to hear an argument if she had one. She thought about both burgers for a moment before shaking her head. “No. I’m with you.”

“Do we have a winner?” the emcee asked.

Sophie was given the honor of announcing their choice. Congratulations followed, then the stage crew quickly got to work preparing things for the next cooking demonstration.

Zane put a hand on the small of her back as she readied to leave. “Take a walk with me?” he said.

She didn’t answer right away. The only reason he’d want to be seen with someone like her was to improve his reputation, and she’d only agreed to the two screenings. Unless…unless he’d felt the same zing of pleasure she had when they’d talked about surfing.

This overthinking-every-situation thing had to stop. “Okay,” she said.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Live in the moment and try new things. And Zane was most definitely a new thing.

Whatever happened next, she’d think like Honor would. She admired her new friend’s chutzpah.

The moment they stepped down from the stage, fans bombarded Zane. Girls in bikinis, men with zinc oxide on their noses, kids with wide, adoring eyes. They all wanted to talk to him, get an autograph from him, take a picture with him.

Him.

A superstar in the surfing world. A man adored by millions worldwide.

Sophie faded into the background. Someone elbowed her in the back. By accident, she knew, but she’d been pushed to the side her whole life. Out of nowhere, her eyes stung and she found it hard to breathe. Memories from her youth came flooding back. She heard Zane call her name, but she was already a hundred feet away, on her way to somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

How silly she’d been to think for even a second that she’d stand a chance at his side.

She had two meetings later, so she headed back to her hotel to do some work—that’s what she did best. Several details still remained for the concert tomorrow night. She also needed to confirm a few things for the small dinner she’d arranged for Zane and members of the city council. And while the festival committee had the films and venues ready, she wanted to double-check on the slight change in the screening schedule.

You’re here to work, Sophie Birch
.
To prove yourself capable of handling large events on your own.
There are no limits, her mom liked to tell her, even though Sophie saw tiny badges of disappointment behind the encouragement. Her mom had married at twenty-two, had Sophie at twenty-three. And so at the ripe old age of twenty-four, she knew her mom thought her a spinster. Even more so since she’d given up her academic job and, according to her mother, any chance of meeting a nice scientist or professor.

She breathed in the fresh air and looked up at the palm trees lining the street. They stretched beyond her line of vision. If she narrowed her eyes, she thought she might be able to see where they ended.

But she didn’t want to look there, instead steering her regard to the last of the booths. She didn’t want to find or be anywhere near an end. She had no plans to settle for just anything. Yes, she wanted to marry, but not before she’d established her new career. Had a
life.
Experiences. Flying here on her own and stepping out of her comfort zone was a new beginning, and she hoped that by the time the festival was over and she flew back to Montana, she’d be a changed person. Take some West Coast back to the home she loved.


She’d never set foot in the ocean before two days ago.

Zane couldn’t get that statement out of his head. He couldn’t get
her
out of his head. And she’d just run away while a crowd swallowed him.

“Zane, can you sign my program?”

“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 best 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.

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