No Strings Attached (18 page)

Her lips soon softened and parted beneath his. He gently touched her with his tongue. She touched him back.

She was no longer tentative. She leaned into him, petite and curvy, warm and womanly. She aroused him.

An age-old tension charged the air until the creak of the dressing room door brought Dune back to his senses.

He broke their kiss, his breathing heavy.

Sophie’s breath stuck in her throat. Her gaze blurred and her heart raced. She’d been so caught up in Dune that she’d lost sight of her purpose.

She was responsible for Randy Cates. The boy stood off to their right, openly staring at them. He wore khaki shorts and an
I Like Older Women
T-shirt. His beat-up sneakers were untied.

“Do me a huge favor, man,” he said to Dune. “No kissing on my time.”

“Your time?” Sophie betrayed her surprise.

“You’re supposed to be teaching me stuff,” said Randy. “Hard to do when his mouth’s on you.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “My first lesson: wear a shirt that is appropriate for your age.”

“I like this one,” he argued.

“Buy it with your own money then.”

He flipped the tag, calculated, “It costs eighteen dollars. I’d have to work an additional two-and-a-half hours to pay for it. I’m only here for the sunglasses.”

Dune lowered his voice near her ear. “He’s all yours.” He picked up the empty box and headed for the storeroom.

Sophie drew a deep breath. It seemed immature to argue with Randy. She tried logic. “There’s no need to advertise your preference in ladies. If you act mature, older women will find you attractive.”

“Are you into me?”

“I like men who are honest and trustworthy.”

“Not kids who shoplift,” Randy mimicked her voice.

Sophie was patient. “Anyone can change his life at any given moment.”

“Are you changing yours?” he asked.

His question hung in the air between them. “I’m working on it,” she said. “This is my summer to challenge myself and seek adventure.”

“What kind of adventures?” he wanted to know.

She told him about the different jobs she’d worked on the boardwalk. His eyes went wide when she mentioned the unicycle. “I didn’t have good balance,” she said.

His chin came up. “I do,” he bragged. “I skateboard and do tricks.”

“The uni-troupe needs an extra rider,” she told him. “If you’re interested—”

“Don’t do me any favors,” he said, shooting her down.

Sophie wondered if he was afraid he’d fail or if he didn’t want her interfering further in his life. She stepped back.

And he stepped forward in search of a different shirt. He held up a few for her approval.

She shook her head to reject shirts with the slogans
Numbnuts
and
Bang It,
but agreed on
I Pushed Humpty-Dumpty
—which he called lame, but still agreed to wear.

Dune returned shortly. He carried a box and a tall revolving magazine rack. He passed them both to Randy. “Jen wants you to set up the coloring books and crayons.”

The boy frowned. “I thought I was working for Sophie.”

“It’s Jen’s store,” Sophie said.

“But you’re the bank?” he asked.

“I’ll be paying you, yes.”

He nodded and got to work.

Shortly thereafter, Sophie and Dune helped Jenna hang shirts from the crab netting. The girls put the shirts on colorful plastic hangers and Dune hooked them in the nets. It was a team effort. Jenna was precise. She moved around the store, eyeing the shirts from all angles. She had Dune taking down and rearranging every other hanger. He didn’t object to the extra work. He was a patient man.

Sophie kept one eye on Randy. The boy worked diligently. The coloring books were a great addition to the store. The books depicted various scenes from Barefoot William. Children could sit on the beach and color beneath an umbrella. Pictures of waves and sailboats, shells and crabs, the boardwalk and pier, would all make for a great souvenir.

“My sister would like a coloring book,” Randy said.

“How old is she?” asked Sophie.

“Four,” Randy told her. “She spends the week with a babysitter.” He frowned slightly. “A few nights, too, depending on how late my dad works. I see her on weekends.”

“Once you buy your sunglasses, maybe you could work an extra hour and get her a coloring book,” Sophie suggested. “Maybe even buy her a T-shirt.”

Randy narrowed his gaze on her. “Don’t try and tie me to the store for the summer,” he said.

Sophie held up her hands, her palms out. “You’re a free man once I ring up your sale for West Coast Blue.”

“That’s how I want it,” the boy said. “Now what?” He’d finished putting the coloring books and crayons on the rack and was ready to move on.

“It’s a slow day.” Jen came to stand beside them. “We clean when we have the opportunity.” She handed Randy glass cleaner and a cloth. “Six mirrors. Don’t leave any streaks.”

He didn’t. Sophie stood off to the side, straightening a circular rack of shirts, watching Randy as he worked. The kid was conscientious. No longer influenced by his friends, he did a good job. He went over each mirror twice until the glass shone. Afterward, he and Dune did odd jobs for Jenna in the storeroom. Sophie remained on the floor, assisting a few customers.

Dune strode from the storeroom, walked over to her and said, “Four o’clock. No Mac.” He strolled away, looking smug and superior.

Mac still had an hour to make an appearance.

She willed him to show.

“Four-thirty.” Dune made a second pass by her.

She kept busy, sorting the latest shipment of belly chains and charm bracelets.

Dune was a clock watcher, annoyingly so. He tapped his watch the next time he walked by her. “Four-forty.”

She glared at him.

He grinned back. “Not nice, Sophie,” he said. “Don’t be a poor loser.”

She hadn’t lost yet. But time wasn’t waiting for Mac. Each passing minute favored Dune. Her watch read four-fifty now.

It was five till five when Randy came to her and nudged her arm. She was in a dressing room collecting T-shirts and board shorts that had been tried on, but discarded.

He looked very serious. The boy nodded toward the counter. “A shoplifter,” he warned Sophie.

Her heart skipped a beat. Surely not
two
thefts in one day. She dropped the clothes and turned quickly. The man was easy to spot. He wore a black hoodie, sunglasses, and dark gray board shorts. He was barefoot. Not much of a disguise for sneaking into the shop.

Mac James.
She was incredibly glad to see him.

His appearance sealed her win.

Winning made her smile. She wanted to jump for joy, to pump her arm and cheer. She tamped down her excitement. Mac looked awful. He hadn’t shaved and his stubble was dark against his ashen skin. His lower lip was cut and swollen. Jenna had bitten him hard. Mac wouldn’t be kissing her or anyone anytime soon. He’d learned his lesson.

“That’s Mac, Dune’s volleyball partner,” she told Randy. “He’s not a thief.”

“Then why’s he slinking around?”

Sophie knew why—Mac wanted to see Jenna. Yet once he’d entered her shop, he’d gotten cold feet. He wasn’t certain how to approach her. It was hard for a six-foot-four man to hide among the circular racks. He stood out even with his head down and shoulders slumped.

“It’s time to lock up,” Jenna called out as she walked to the front of the store. Keys jingled in her hand. “You can all leave. I’m going to stay a few extra minutes and dress the mannequins.”

She was nearly to the door when she caught sight of Mac. Her steps slowed and anger heated her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I was looking for Dune,” Mac said sullenly. “I have a message from his grandfather.”

“You can leave it with me.”

“It’s private.”

“Dune’s on the loading dock, shooting foam packing peanuts into the Dumpster,” Jen said. “You can wait for him on the boardwalk.”

“It looks like rain.”

Sophie glanced out the window and saw it was sunny. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She didn’t contradict him, however. She’d won the bet. She couldn’t wait to see Dune’s face.

How much celebration was appropriate? she wondered. Should she smile, do a happy dance? Good sportsmanship was important to her. She went with a grin.

Dune’s expression was priceless. He saw Mac and his eyes narrowed; his jaw set. “What’s up?” he asked rather sharply.

“He’s delivering a message from Frank,” Jenna said.

Dune raised an eyebrow. “And the message is?”

“He wants you to pick up a dozen wheat bagels on your way home.”

“My grandfather doesn’t eat bagels, only white bread.”

Mac shrugged. “Don’t kill the messenger. Maybe he needs more fiber.”

Dune ran one hand down his face, muttered, “Unbelievable.”

Surprising yet plausible, thought Sophie. Frank hadn’t sent Mac. He’d come on his own. He needed a reason to see Jen and had used Dune’s grandfather as an excuse.

Sophie’s smile widened and Dune’s frown deepened.

“I’m outta here.” Randy eased by Sophie. He surprised everyone by sticking his hands in his pockets and turning them inside out. “Clean,” he said.

Sophie waved. “See you tomorrow.”

The boy glanced at the display of sunglasses. “Fifteen hours to go.” And he was gone.

“I’m leaving, too,” said Sophie.

“I’m right behind you.” Dune was so close she felt the heat of his body. Lime, sunshine, and man followed her out the door.

“Winner,” she said once they were on the boardwalk. She then crooked her finger and led him down the boardwalk to The Dairy Godmother.

A homemade ice cream sandwich was her prize.

“Care to make another wager?” she asked after they’d placed their order. She chose strawberry ice cream between the chocolate cake bars. Dune went with vanilla.

He looked down on her. “Go again? Your win was a fluke.”

“Chicken.” A win was a win. She felt daring and bold.

“Feeling pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Mac used bagels as an excuse to see Jen.”

“He’s not thinking straight,” said Dune. “That was his hangover talking.”

A young girl behind the counter laid their ice cream sandwiches on two plates and passed them to Dune. They located a café table at the back of the store. Once seated, Sophie took a small bite of her ice cream sandwich and savored the taste. “The next time we see Mac and Jenna they’ll be on a date,” she predicted.

He blew her off. “Not a chance.”

“Then wager.”

“One win and you’ve turned gambler.”

Mac hadn’t been very imaginative with his bagel story, but it had gotten him in the shop. Sophie believed he liked Jen and truly wanted to see her. Until he recognized that fact, he would strategize his way into Jen’s heart.

Dune finished his ice cream sandwich. He leaned back on the café chair and stretched out his legs beneath the table. He trapped her knees and the brief pressure made her shiver. She was so distracted by his touch, she couldn’t finish her ice cream sandwich, which was fine by Dune. He easily managed the last two bites.

“Any plans for tonight?” he asked her, lightly bumping her knees a second time.

She wished she did. She’d love to sound interesting and fun with places to go and people to see. Instead, she shook her head. “Jenna mentioned Twilight Bazaar.”

Dune was aware of the event. “There will be food and seasonal items and lots of Christmas crafts in May. My elementary school once rented a table to display the ceramics from our art classes. I made a dozen clay giraffes, all with crooked necks.”

She envisioned a tall boy with long fingers bending over a table, molding and shaping a lump of clay. “How did they sell?” she asked.

“My giraffes sold second to Zane’s monkeys,” he told her. “Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, See No Evil drew everyone’s attention. Parents placed orders when the trio sold out. Zane spent a summer making monkeys.”

“He’s younger than you?”

“By a year,” he said. “He cramped my ass all through school. He was an aggressive, goal-oriented kid, always trying to top me in grades, sports, and dating. He couldn’t, however, catch me in height. I was six feet when I entered high school and grew another six inches before I graduated. He was forced to look up to me then.”

“I was the same height in middle school as I am now,” she said ruefully.

“Five-foot-two works for you.”

“I’ll reach new heights when I walk on stilts.”

“Still out to break a leg?” He looked concerned.

“Still out for adventure.”

He nodded halfheartedly before making her an offer. “I want to teach you to swim.”

His suggestion was more frightening to her than walking on stilts. Her heart raced and the ice cream sandwich she’d eaten settled heavily in her stomach. “Thanks, but no thanks. Water scares me.”

He rested his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers. “Why are you so afraid?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Inborn fear, I guess. Why are people afraid of bugs, thunderstorms, clowns, sharks, and the dark? There are kids who won’t go to bed until their parents check the closets and under their bed for monsters.”

“Train whistles freaked me out as a kid.”

“Car horns made me tremble.”

He reached across the table and took her hands in his. His palms were warm and callused. He rubbed his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist. “I don’t want you to be afraid of anything,” he said. “You’re stronger than you think. You survived the crowd at the Sneaker Ball. You took on Zane when you thought he was a troublemaker, then later tracked down Randy when he stole from Three Shirts.”

“It came down to principle,” she said softly. “I was defending people I care about. There’s a big difference between standing up for a friend and standing in deep water.”

“I’m a strong swimmer, Sophie,” he said. “I wouldn’t let you drown. Our first lesson: sitting on the side of your pool, dangling our feet in the water, and drinking sun tea.”

She bit down on her bottom lip. “We’d sit at the shallow end?”

“Right next to the handrail by the steps.”