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“The American Cancer Society offers a lot of different types of support,” Sophie said, her hands in her lap, her posture straight. “I volunteer with my local group back home and they’re great. I could help you get in touch with the local chapter here if you want.”
His mom spread her arms, one reaching into Sophie’s lap and covering her hands, the other taking Julia’s hand atop the table. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Thank you,” Julia echoed.
“How are the wedding plans going?” Zane asked, hoping to steer the conversation to a happier topic now.
Those magic words turned the conversation on its head, and for the next twenty minutes, the estrogen at the table almost choked the life out of him. So he tuned most of it out, preferring instead to concentrate on the delicate slope of Sophie’s neck. The freckles across her cute nose. The soft, messy tumble of light red hair and the melodious sound of her laughter.
“I wish I had more time to spend here. I would’ve loved to see your studio. The only things I can draw are hearts and flowers,” Sophie said.
“A girl’s staple,” Julia replied. She threw a strawberry at him, pulling his gaze away from Sophie. “You’re awfully quiet over there, big brother. How about I tell Sophie about the drawings you made when you were younger?”
Zane ground his teeth together. Graffiti. He’d done a little of that and wasn’t proud of it. “Not if you don’t want me to dump you in the ocean.”
“Like you could still do that.”
“That’s okay,” Sophie piped in. “Zane already has all the attributes I think I can handle.” She sank down in her seat and closed her eyes for a beat longer than a normal blink. “I mean what all girls could handle. You know, since he’s got the professional athlete thing going on. Add in that he’s funny and smart and kind and I’m rambling so I’m just going to be quiet now. Or actually use the bathroom.” She stood, her cheeks redder than the strawberry his sister had just thrown at him. “Could someone point me in the right direction?”
“I’ll take you,” Julia said, popping to her feet and taking Sophie by the arm.
“Julia,” Zane warned.
“What? I’m taking my friend to the bathroom.”
Her friend. He liked the sound of that. He just plain liked. Everything.Not good, dude.
“So,” his mom said when they were alone.
Nothing good ever followed “so.” “So,” he repeated.
“You’ve never brought a girl home with you before. Not that I’m complaining. I’m glad you haven’t brought home the usual type of woman I see you pictured with. But Sophie—”
“It’s nothing.”
“Oh, it’s something.”
“Meaning?”
“Sophie’s not one of your beach bunnies. She’s much more. Inside and out. And I think you know it, too.”
“What I know is I’m here for a film festival and then I head to Tahiti and after that Bali and France. Sophie’s here for the festival and then she goes back home to Montana.”
“Touchy,” his mom teased.
Shit. He was. Somehow this woman he’d known for only a few days had gotten under his skin and wiggled her way to a place no one had reached before.
His mom moved a piece of hair off his forehead. “You’ve been to those places many times.”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve never been to Montana.”
“Are you trying to play matchmaker?” he said, surprised. She’d always stayed out of his love life. Even when he’d still lived at home and fooled around with more girls than he could remember, she’d never said a word.
“Nope. Only trying to get that mind of yours to stay open.”
He shrugged. Yes, he liked hanging out with Sophie, liked the unanticipated need in his gut when he looked at her, but he had no desire for anything to go beyond this week. So no way would he be a jerk and give in to the growing demand that he touch her, taste her.
