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“Stay.” He stepped into the room.
“What?” she whispered.
“I want you to stay. Hang out with me. Talk some more.” He stood in front of her now.
“Umm…” She put her hand on his chest, to keep him at a distance or simply touch him, he wasn’t sure. “I talked to Jim, the high school athletic director, on his way out, and he’s going to touch base with Bryce and bring the surf team to see you. I mentioned how much kids doing the sport meant to you. I also may have talked loud enough for that reporter to hear us.”
He stared down at her. Speechless. Women didn’t give to him. They took.
“You’re wishing I hadn’t done that.” She pulled her hand back. “I can fix it. I can grab one of the other pro surfers. No worries.”
“That’s not it,” he finally managed to say and backed away before he kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. Which would lead him to do other things he’d been telling himself were a bad idea. If he’d thought just kissing her would be enough, he was wrong. “I’m more than happy to meet with the team.”
“But?”
“No buts.” He’d already shared too damn much with her. He hadn’t believed he had the capacity to let anyone in like he’d done with Sophie, and telling her how much her caring meant to him was foolish. Those bonehead feelings were riskier than the stunts he pulled in the water. Bryce called his daredevil displays tricks from the Evel Knievel playbook.
This thing with Sophie felt ten times more dangerous.
She studied him like she’d done so often, and he was about to forget the idea of spending more time with her and see her back to her hotel when she said, “So, how about a game of checkers?” She walked past him and slipped down the narrow hallway that led to a maid’s quarters. He heard a door creak open and shut. She reappeared a moment later holding a small leather case. “I noticed a bunch of games in the pantry closet earlier. Come on.”
He followed her into the family room, at a total loss for what to say or what to think.
Scratch that. Hewasthinking. About the winner getting whatever he or she wanted.
“I have to warn you. I’m pretty good,” she said, sitting on the couch and putting the game on the coffee table.
“Yeah?” He sat across from her.
“My dad taught me when I was little, and we still play whenever I’m over at my parents’ house. We always do a little tournament with my mom.”
“Are you over there a lot?”
“Every Sunday night for dinner and Wednesday nights for bunco.” She set the small round black and red game pieces on the checkered board.
Zane had no idea what bunco was. “So Sunday night is checkers night?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, even though she wasn’t paying him any attention. Once she had all the pieces in place, she looked up. “What?”
“You’re close to your dad?”
“Yes,” she said again, her eyes soft and sympathetic. “Okay, so I’ll go first…”
A little luck awarded him the first game. She took the second. Now they were neck and neck for best two out of three. He’d never been big on board games, but he’d play all night with her. Every time she captured one of his pieces, she let out a tiny whoop that rang so elated, the corners of his mouth lifted of their own free will.
“You don’t own a house anywhere?” she said, continuing their conversation about each other’s living arrangements.
“No. Never really saw the benefit when I’m gone so much.”
“If you did buy something, though, where would it be?” She made her next move.
He took in his surroundings. He’d rented this house for the past three years, and this time the owners had mentioned they were interested in selling. If he got the gig with SHE and skipped a tour event here or there, he could see himself spending more time in White Strand. At the very least, he could settle in for January and February when there weren’t any tour dates. His mom and sister would be over the moon.
“I’m thinking right here.” He lifted a game piece.
“Here, here? Like this house?”
