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A crease appeared between Nick’s eyebrows. Clueless oblivious man.
“The reservations aren’t for another half an hour,” he shook his head. “Let’s finish our wine first.”
“Oh, please don’t let me interrupt your evening. I was just headed back to my table.” Heather wrapped scarlet-tipped talons around his forearm. “Lovely to meet you, girls. See you soon, Nick.”
She strutted away from the table in her skin-tight leopard-print pencil skirt and fitted silk blouse, like a woman who was hyperaware of her beauty and who loved to flaunt it.
Kelly and Sophie exchanged glances, and as longtime best friends, no words were necessary. They’d both seen Heather’s possessiveness and Nick’s ease around the woman. If only she and Kelly could ditch him and go to dinner by themselves, but she refused to show she was affected. No way in hell would Nick discover she’d started to soften to the idea of jumping his bones.
For the remainder of the evening, she dug deep and continued to laugh and act lighthearted, despite the pit in her belly. At the sushi bar, she maneuvered so Kelly was sitting between her and Nick. It was easy to allow her outgoing friend to dominate the conversation and keep it casual.
Nick tried to catch her eye and draw her into the conversation. Not happening.
Mellow from the wine and Kelly’s presence, Sophie maintained her nonchalant façade. Because Kelly rode in the front seat when he’d picked them up, it was simple to repeat the pattern. She managed to escape out of the car with a jaunty wave when Nick dropped them off at the house.
Now he had zero excuses to seek her out. She’d avoid him at all costs. The evening served as a reminder that she was here to create a new life as an independent woman and author. No more of this ridiculous flip-flopping over him.
No way Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick would distract her from her goals.
CHAPTER8
Nick had the attention span of a gnat this morning. Come to think of it, since Sophie moved into the cottage, he’d had the least productive few weeks he could recall. After the way she’d kissed him before he went to New York, he’d anticipated a very different reception. Hell, he’d hopped on an earlier flight to see her.
Then she’d frozen him out again at dinner. How could he keep up with Sophie’s mercurial moods? He tossed his pencil down on his desk and stalked to the large picture window framing the incredible view of Laguna.
Screw the deadlines.
He texted his buddy Brandt, who was always ready to surf, any time of day. He grabbed his favorite surfboard from his quiver in the office closet and headed out the door. Until he cleared his mind, he wouldn’t accomplish anything today.
Brandt texted that the waves were pumping at their favorite spot, Thalia Street, and to meet him there. When he arrived, the few parking spots on the ocean side were already full, indicating they weren’t the only locals surfing instead of working. He parked across the street next to Brandt’s Range Rover and they changed into their wetsuits. They jogged across Pacific Coast Highway and descended the stairs onto the rocky beach.
“What’s up?” Brandt asked as they strode into the pounding surf.
“Can’t get any work done lately.” Nick paddled out past the surf break. “Really need to soak my head.”
He and Brandt rarely discussed their feelings. They’d been friends for years and shared similar views on dating and marriage. Dating was great. Marriage––not their gig.
But Sophie was different. Lately, everything reminded him of her. They bobbed in the surf, waiting for the next set of waves to roll in. Maybe Brandt would have some insight.
Screw it. “Well, actually there’s this girl.”
Brandt’s head whipped toward him so fast he was surprised it didn’t fly off. “What? You’re asking me about a girl? Has hell frozen over? Nick Morgan lost his touch?”
“Shut up, man. This one’s different. She’s blowing hot and cold, and it’s driving me crazy.” What the hell was he saying? Brandt would never let him live it down.
Brandt chuckled. “Hot and cold, huh? Welcome to the real world.”
“Oh right, like you’d know.” His friend continued to hoot, and Nick willed a huge wave to come in and shut him up.
Shaking off the laughter, Brandt quirked a dark brow. “You are serious. Okay, well, maybe she just isn’t into you. Can you introduce me?”
Nick paddled over toward Brandt, intending to knock him off his board, and simultaneously prayed for a shark to come snap up his friend. He settled for splashing him in the face, which silenced him for at least a moment as he shook the water out of his eyes.
“Forget it.” He was losing his frickin’ mind.
Brandt’s eyes widened, and Nick turned his head toward the open sea. A huge set approached, so he angled his board toward shore and paddled to catch a wave. He popped up and rode it in toward shore, reveling in the freedom.
They surfed for about an hour, and anytime Brandt opened his mouth, Nick cut him off by focusing on the waves. He was so not having this discussion. The healing salt air and sunshine warmed him, his muscles relaxed and his mind quieted.
