No Strings Attached (41 page)

She understood an athlete’s popularity. Mac and Dune wanted to give back to their fans. The crowds paid their salaries. But did there have to be so much touching? The women patted, stroked, and tugged the players to them. The image made Sophie miserable.

“We can’t just sit at home and wait for Dune and Mac to return to Barefoot William,” Jenna said. “We aren’t even certain they’ll be back.”

The fear she might not see Dune for months was the worst fear Sophie had ever faced. The very thought she might see him again someday, but with another woman, would prove awkward, humiliating, and heartbreaking to her.

“We need a girls’ night out,” Jen said with conviction. “I’ve always wanted to try Barconi’s bistro on Saunders Shores. It’s time for me to cross Center Street. I’m in the mood for Italian food.”

Jen was right. Fine dining was the perfect way to move on with her life. “I’ve eaten there several times,” Sophie said. “The chef is from Bologna, Italy. The bruschetta and Chicken Roberto are my favorite dishes. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

“Cool. Shaye’s organizing midnight movie madness on the pier,” Jenna went on to say. “
Transformers: Fall of Cy-bertron
will be the first of many Sunday summer shows shown on the outer wooden wall of Cook It, Kai’s chef’s kitchen. Lots of families attend every year.”

“Sounds like fun,” Sophie said, her mood lifting. “What should I bring?”

Jen thought a moment. “Beach chairs, popcorn, candy, and soda. That’s it.”

Sophie dipped her head, an old fear haunting her. She said, “I always wanted to ride the merry-go-round and Ferris wheel. I was too scared as a child. My time is now.”

Jen nodded. “I love all the amusements. Ever play Whac-A-Mole? Ring toss? Balloon darts?”

Sophie shook her head. “They sound entertaining.”

“And addicting,” Jen said, smiling. She turned to leave, then stopped. “We’ll get through this, Sophie.” She gave her a quick thumbs-up, then opened the door. It closed behind her.

Sophie hoped Jen was right and she would survive. She massaged her chest, right over her heart. Her feelings were bruised. Her sense of disappointment was eye-opening. She’d believed in Dune, yet once he’d returned to volleyball, his fame and fanfare claimed him again. Sophie now stood on the sidelines.

She gazed out the front window and watched as Jenna climbed into the pedicab. She leaned back on the seat; her shoulders were slumped. Sophie felt her friend’s sadness. It went bone deep.

Jenna Cates missed Mac James. She hated the fact she’d allowed him to take over her life. She wanted to kick something; that something was the curb when the driver dropped her off at her cottage. Her flip-flops were flimsy. Damn if she didn’t stub her toe.

She took the stone path to the steps that led to her porch. She noticed the beige paint was peeling at the corners of her cottage and along the roofline. It was time to spruce up the place.

Most of the cottages on her street were brightly colored: sunshine yellow, seashell pink, a deep lavender. In that moment, she decided on sky blue with white shutters. The paint would brighten her life and make for a nice change.

Climbing the stairs, she looked around. Where were her Savannahs? They always approached her the second she started up the path. Not so today. So, where were they? They seldom spent time in the house. They preferred lying in the grass beneath a shade tree or stretched out in the window boxes.

She stopped, listened. It was eerily quiet.

She removed her house key from her denim pocket and keyed the door. She pushed it open. Slowly. Something was wrong. She could feel it. The hair at her nape prickled, as if she were about to be ambushed.

Mac James took her by surprise. He looked right at home seated on the antique rocking chair in her living room. His walking cast was propped on the ottoman. He appeared calm and comfortable, while her heart raced and her stomach fluttered.

Her cats had betrayed her, allowing him inside their domain. Chike now curled on his lap. Jango, Neo, and Aba lay on the floor close by. Jen couldn’t move. She could only stare.

She took him in. He was too handsome for his own good. It had been eleven days since she’d seen him, yet it seemed like forever. His hair was longer and curled at his shirt collar. His blue T-shirt matched his eyes. The logo read
Come and Get Me
. Oh really? She wasn’t going anywhere near him. Not after that postgame display of flash and flesh that he’d put on for the TV audience. One leg on his jeans was cut off at the knee to accommodate his cast. He wore a single leather flip-flop.

“Jenna?” His voice was low and deep. He tilted his head and narrowed his gaze. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes when she kept her distance.

She clenched her fists and tamped down her excitement at seeing him. “Who let you in?” Her voice was tight and unwelcoming. “Did you jimmy the back window?”

“It was all Chike’s idea,” he defended himself, scratching the Savannah behind the ears. “I couldn’t fit through the cat door. Chike suggested the window.”

Jen could hear Chike’s purring all the way to the door. The sound irritated her. A lot. Her furry protector rolled onto his back, wanting his belly rubbed. Mac obliged. Chike looked at her from his upside-down position. She swore he winked at her. Her cat was a traitor.

“How’s your ankle, Mac?” she wanted to know.

“It gets sore when I stand, so I’m forced to use my crutches.”

“Which ones?” She sounded snarky, but she didn’t care. “Aluminum or human?”

His brow creased, as if he didn’t understand her question. After a moment, he burst out laughing. His laughter was inappropriate as far as Jenna was concerned.

“I had assistance off the court after the tournament,” he said. “I’m sure the camera caught the worst angles.”

“I saw tits and ass.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re jealous.”

“Maybe . . . a little.” She was honest.

“Don’t be, Jen. I was thinking about you the whole time.”

“When exactly did you think of me?” she asked him bluntly. “When you were being kissed by the groupies or when the Aqua Gold hostess rubbed suntan oil on your shoulders?”

He pursed his lips. “Definitely during the rubbing.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“I’m your ass, Jenna.”

“What if I don’t want you?”

“You do, babe.” He was smiling now. “Once you calm down, you can tell me how much.”

He was way too sure of himself. She crossed to him then. Gripping his arm, she tugged hard. “Out of my rocker and out of my house,” she ordered him.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.” Chike received her message, loud and clear. He hopped off Mac’s lap and resettled on the armless chair. Mac was left on his own.

He saw through her, which irritated Jen all the more. “You’re mad I didn’t call you, and I understand that.” He ran one hand down his face. “Following the tournament, I was psyched that we’d won. I’m not going to lie, I enjoyed the praise, the prize money, the—”

“Women?” she had to add.

“The women lasted as far as the ambulance,” Mac informed her with a straight face. “Dune stayed with me at the hospital. There was no one else. The doctor was as ancient as his nursing staff.”

“No sponge bath, then?”

“Nurse Granny Panties washed the sand off my foot, but that was it.”

Jen forced down a smile. “Your fingers weren’t broken. You could’ve sent me a text.”

“Not in the mood I was in, Jen.” He blew out a breath, then went on to say, “I left the hospital ornery, complaining, and feeling damn sorry for myself. Ask Dune, he’ll tell you how crappy I felt. He and I had just come off a major win. He’d played well, and Hermosa was a definite possibility.”

He paused, grew thoughtful. Jenna waited to hear what he had to say. She owed him that.

“It’s funny,” he said, “how life shuts a man down when he’s at an all-time high.”

“We’ve all suffered setbacks, Mac.” She no longer gripped his arm, instead she found herself stroking his shoulder, offering him comfort. “We start again from where we’ve left off.”

“A fractured ankle makes it tough for a player to return to volleyball,” he said. “A few have tried, but a second bad twist, and I’m sitting on the sidelines again.”

“Surely you have options.”

“I plan to put in an employment application at Three Shirts,” he told her. “I know the shop owner. She’s aware that I can draw a crowd.”

“That you do.” Having Mac around full-time was more than she’d hoped for. Jen liked the idea. They’d be a good team.

His jaw worked. “I’ve made additional adjustments, too,” he continued before she could argue with him. “I cleared out my condo in Malibu and listed it with a real estate agent. It’s located on the sand in a prime spot and should sell quickly. I sold most of my furniture. The few remaining pieces I chose to keep will be delivered here in a few days.”

She blinked. “Here, to my home?”

He nodded. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

She pinched his shoulder. “Don’t think for me, Mac.”

He winced. “A husband deserves a few items of his own—”

“Husband?” She backed him up.

“I plan to marry you.”

“Do I have any say?”

“Very little, actually,” he said. “Your cats like me; they want me as a roommate.”

Seductive warmth settled on her chest. Mac James with his sexy smile and hot body had come home to her. He wanted her as his wife. She smiled at her Savannahs. “It seems I’m outnumbered.”

He reached out and drew her to him. She climbed onto his lap. He ran his hands up and down her sides. His thumbs stroked beneath her breasts. “You’ve lost weight,” he noticed once her bottom rested on his groin. He snuck a peek down her shirt. “Did you go down a cup size?”

She slapped his hand away. “I was worried about you and couldn’t eat,” she admitted, sighing.

“I was worried about me, too,” he admitted.

She poked him in the chest. “Never keep me in the dark again. Your problems are my problems, understood?”

“Got it,” he agreed. “Never doubt I love you.”

“I like you a little bit, too.”

“Prove it.” He rocked slowly forward, and then back, learned the feel of the chair. “I’ve got condoms in my wallet and you positioned on my thighs. Where do we go from here?”

She showed him where by kissing him deeply.

He had her clothes off before she even missed them.

She stroked.

He squeezed.

He growled his passion.

She moaned her pleasure.

The antique rocker creaked, groaned, and gave good motion.

The motion of the Gulf was slow and lazy, Dune Cates noticed as he leaned against the bright blue pipe railing on the Barefoot William Boardwalk. He scanned the beach, hoping to locate Sophie Saunders. He couldn’t wait a moment longer to see her.

He’d arrived home an hour ago. He immediately grabbed a cab from the municipal airport to the museum on Center Street. Hopping out at the curb, he found the front door of the shop propped open. He peeked inside. The scent of paint and floor polish was strong. He’d been gone two weeks. From what he could see, Sophie had accomplished a great deal in a very short time. New paint, floors, shelves, and display cases. The place was taking shape.

“Dune, welcome home,” his grandfather called out to him from the back room. He was seated on a chair, supervising Randy and Chuck as they worked on the mural.

Dune was impressed with the boys’ work. Sophie had a great idea to make the Cates family tree a key part of the museum. He had an even better one. Dune was hoping his and Sophie’s names could be added to the middle branches before the trunk was drawn and the paint dried.

“I’m looking for Sophie,” he told Frank.

“And why might that be?” his grandfather surprised him by asking. The older man sounded protective of her.

“I want to let her know I’m home.”

“She’s not expecting you, son,” Frank said outright. He stood then, crossed to Dune, seeming uneasy.

“I wanted to surprise her,” Dune told him.

Frank’s brow furrowed. “Surprises sometimes backfire.” He looked at him straight on.

There was something in the older man’s voice that made Dune question, “Are you telling me she won’t be glad to see me?”

His granddad never minced words. He cleared his throat and said, “I can’t speak for Sophie. I can only tell you what I see. She’s missed you, Dune, but I don’t recollect you telling her that you missed her.”

“I texted her.”

“Not every day, you didn’t. Modern technology isn’t personal, son. Words on a little screen don’t go a heck of a long way in reassuring a girl you’ve been thinking about her, too.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “She’s gotten real serious, Dune, and she seldom smiles. She walks around with her hand over her heart like it hurts.”

Dune had thought about her often, but he’d also needed to get his own head on straight. Major decisions were faced and finalized during the past week. At the end of the day, he’d never meant to cause her pain.

He loved Sophie Saunders.

It was time to let her know how much.

“Where can I find her?” he asked, needing to see her now, more than ever.

“Sophie needed a break,” Frank told him. “The paint fumes were getting to her. You’ll find her on the beach.”

Dune raised his brow. “The beach?”

Frank nodded, and Dune couldn’t help but smile. Was Sophie braving the waves? He couldn’t wait to find out.

He gave his grandfather a man-hug, a thump on the back, and a fist bump. He then left the shop. He jogged the half-block from the museum to the boardwalk. The sand was patterned with tourists, many now packing up after a long day at the beach. He scanned the shoreline and the wooden pilings on the pier. There was no sign of Sophie.

Growing impatient, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and began to pace. This wasn’t what he’d planned. Sophie was sad and hurting inside. How could he mess up so bad? He walked from Molly Malone’s Diner to Crabby Abby’s General Store and back again. He looked over the rims of his Suncats and squinted against the sun. Still no sign of Sophie. Where the hell was she?