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Sophie didn’t know what to say. Her heart went out to Julia, but she felt helpless. Bringing Wilson to justice was the only way to help Julia and the kids, and it felt like her progress was so slow.
“When it’s not just you to worry about it’s so much worse,” Helen said sympathetically. Her unborn baby had to be on her mind constantly.
“I’m not cut out for this lifestyle,” Julia said. “I love the kids. Being around them all the time isn’t the problem. But the secrecy and isolation? That’s tough. I just don’t feel like myself.”
“Have you tried taking some pictures?” Sophie suggested. Julia was a gifted professional photographer. “Doing something familiar might make you feel better.”
“I’ll think about it.” Julia seemed to consider it. “I have a couple of my good cameras with me. It might help to feel productive in that way.”
“Working always grounds me,” Sophie said. Suddenly, her friends’ eyes went wide at the same time as she heard the bathroom door open. In the tile on her screen, Owen appeared behind her in only a towel. Oh, damn. Seriously, damn.
“My, my,” Helen said with a grin and a raised brow. “How’s thatbodyguard thing going?”
“Fine, it’s fine. I’ll text you both in the morning. Bye.” Sophie ended the chat as fast as she could before anything else could be said.
“Helen and Julia okay?” Owen asked from across the room. He pulled sweats and a T-shirt from a drawer.
She expected him to go back to the bathroom to change. He didn’t. When it became obvious that he was going to put on his pajamas right there, she averted her eyes. Mostly. Okay, so she peeked long enough to confirm that his naked ass was a work of art. And his back… she could almost feel his tanned skin beneath her fingertips.
“Huh?” She hoped she didn’t sound too breathless. “Oh, yeah, mostly. Julia’s struggling. I feel bad about that. The kids don’t understand what’s going on, of course. It’s a good thing they have Julia.”
“No doubt. Any word from Micky?” Owen sounded so normal. Probably because he wasn’t the one having inappropriate thoughts about the possible meanings ofbodyguard.
“I emailed with him,” she managed to get out. “He’s anxious to help, but Helen doesn’t want him to. He did tell me that a sex worker used an apartment at that address until three weeks ago.”
“So it was a hookup?” He seemed surprised.
“Yep. I was right about that.” She turned around and was a little disappointed to find that he had his pajamas fully on.
“I was right, too.” He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her. “He’s a minute-man.”
“Not my business.” She got up and grabbed for the sweats she’d been sleeping in. “Mason’s sex life isn’t part of the investigation.” She rushed past Owen and went into the bathroom where she took her time getting ready for bed. She could use a little distance from his unblinking stare.
She changed and took a few minutes to recenter herself, then left the bathroom. He’d turned out all the lights except the lamp on her side of the bed. In the dim glow, she could see that he was on his back, his hands behind his head and eyes closed. Asleep, it seemed. Good. She could just slip into bed and pretend that she wasn’t thinking about the many ways Owen could satisfy a woman.
No, that was a lie. She was thinking about how Owen could satisfyher.
She got beneath the covers, being careful not to touch him. She settled in, letting out a small sigh, and planning to count backwards from a million whilenotthinking about the hot man next to her.
“Good night, Sophie.” His voice was low, intimate. Damn him. He wasn’t asleep at all, just pretending.
She better start at two million.
EIGHT
“Have you met Eduardo?” Luna was suddenly at his elbow while Owen poured himself a cup of coffee the next morning. “He’s my chef. I snagged him from a resort at Myrtle Beach with the promise of having complete control over the menu. He’s amazing. Wait until you try his sea scallops. Divine.”
“Is that right?” Owen wasn’t much interested in Eduardo and his cooking ability. He was way more concerned with the way Sophie was smiling at the handsome chef while he made her an omelet. After being all too conscious of Sophie sleeping beside him the night before, he couldn’t seem to get her off his mind. Last evening she’d seemed interested in him—at least physically. So far this morning, she’d been borderline brusque and had separated from him as soon as they reached the dining room in the main lodge.
“I have to say I’m impressed with you, too. You’ve done well playing the role of fake husband. I don’t think anyone suspects that your relationship isn’t what is appears,” Luna said softly as she walked with him to a table, carrying her own coffee, and sat down.
“Thanks, I guess. I’m making it up as I go along.” He’d never expected to be a husband at all, real or otherwise. It wasn’t too bad.
“Well, you’re a success. And you never know, it might be good practice for someday when you take the plunge and actually get married.” Luna took a sip of her coffee, her eyes on where Eduardo was plating the omelet for Sophie. Was heflirtingwith her? “I’m hoping she finds someone to have a meaningful relationship with. It would be good for her.” Sophie’s laugh floated across the dining room. “See, don’t you think they’d be good together?”
Sophie and Eduardo? He set his coffee cup down a little too hard and some slopped over the side. He mopped it up with a napkin while trying to get his thoughts in order. He was not jealous now any more than he’d been jealous in the bar. Therewas nojealousy, none at all, because he didn’t do that emotion. He’d seen it cause destruction in other people’s lives, and he wasn’t interested in going there. If Sophie and the chef were soulmates, he’d cheer them on.
Luna certainly seemed ready to. She was smiling while keeping an eye on Sophie as she gave Eduardo a little wave and moved off to get toast. So why did he feel so grumpy at the thought of Sophie with someone else? Stupid, pointless, ridiculous feeling. But it was there, and he couldn’t battle it down.
