No Strings Attached (30 page)

He was kind, Sophie thought, always building her up and never tearing her down. She was grateful. “A small party might be nice,” she said. She had a few friends now. She could invite Shaye and Trace, Mac and Jenna, as well as the women from her volleyball team.

Her mother frowned. “You’re not a good hostess,” she stated flatly. “You’re too shy. People don’t want to attend a party where the birthday girl stands in the corner.”

“I think she’s outgrown the corner,” said Dune. “I’ve recently seen Sophie as the center of attention.”

Maya raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Sophie blinked. “When was that?” she asked him.

Dune smiled down on her. “When you spoke to the mayor at the Sneaker Ball, and later when you gave the pedicab tours. You had a captive audience.”

He was right. People had flocked around her. They’d listened to what she had to say. She’d been interesting and entertaining.

“We’ll throw a party here poolside late Saturday afternoon,” Sophie decided with confidence. “Works for me.”

Her mother huffed. “That doesn’t give Marisole enough time to plan a menu.”

“I won’t need Mari,” Sophie said. “I can fix hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad—”

“Let’s make it potluck,” Dune offered. “Less work for the birthday girl. Everyone will bring a dish.”

Maya was stunned. “You’re asking guests to bring their own food?”

“That’s how it’s done in Barefoot William,” said Dune.

“But this is Saunders Shores,” her mother argued.

“You’re welcome to join us.” Dune was polite, but firm. “Can I put you down for a container of coleslaw? Or corn on the cob? Better yet, a cake?”

Maya looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. She moved to the sliding glass doors, keeping her back to them. “Your gift, Sophie?” she pressed without turning around.

Sophie’s throat tightened. “Come to my party, Mother.”

Maya didn’t miss a beat. “Your father and I have plans for Saturday,” she said without remorse. “He’s playing in a charity golf tournament at Royal Palm Country Club. I’ll be joining him afterward for dinner, drinks, and the silent auction. It’s an all-day event and will run quite late.”

Disappointing yet typical, Sophie thought. Her parents so seldom came around, especially when she needed them most. This was her birthday. She’d reached a quarter century, a personal milestone with so few memories of doing things as a family. She tried not to let the hurt show on her face. She would celebrate with her friends, thanks to Dune.

Her mother tapped her fingernails on the glass slider. She appeared anxious to leave. “I’ll have a present selected and delivered to you,” she said, then slipped out.

Sophie’s heart sank.

Dune tried to lighten her mood. “At least she’s picking out your gift. That’s something to celebrate.”

“My mother doesn’t run errands.” She knew that for a fact. “Her personal shopper will pick up the phone and call a trendy boutique. A dress will be delivered, probably tea length and in basic black. The dress will hang in my armoire beside the dozen other dresses she’s sent to me over the years.”

Dune took a bite of cold toast, then followed it with a sip of lukewarm coffee. Sophie admired his willingness to work through the breakfast she’d prepared for him.

“We’ll find an occasion to wear this year’s dress,” he said. “I’m good for a fancy dinner.”

“And dancing?”

“Have you improved since the Sneaker Ball?”

She’d stepped all over his feet when they’d slow danced. “We’ll only dance fast.”

“I’ll suffer the bruises,” he said. “Holding you close is better.”

He stretched his arms over his head, then rolled his shoulders. “I’ll talk with Shaye before volleyball practice,” he said. “We’ll put your party together.”

Her heart warmed. It had been years since anyone threw her a party. Her mother had given up on her by her ninth birthday. She was still a kid at heart.

Dune glanced at the stove clock. “It’s after nine,” he said. “Mac and I have volleyball practice and you need to get to work.”

Sophie scooted off her chair. “I’d hate to be late and have Shaye fire me.”

“She’ll never fire you,” he guaranteed. “You’re her top driver.”

“You’re planning a party for Sophie?” Mac James asked Dune. They stood side by side before the volleyball net, practicing drills. “You’ve missed your calling, dude. I could see you as a party planner. This could be a second career for you when you retire.”

Dune cut him a look. “You’re not invited.”

“Bullshit.” Mac set the ball and Dune spiked it. “I’ll be there.” He paused. “You can put me in charge of fun and games.”

“Shaye suggested pool volleyball.”

“Cool. We can have chicken fights, too,” said Mac. “I call Sophie as my partner.”

Dune tossed up the volleyball and made Mac dive for it. “She’s not sitting on your shoulders.”

Mac recovered the ball and set up the next play. Dune slammed it to the far right corner, just inside the line. Mac grinned.

“What are you smiling about?” asked Dune.

“You know why.”

“ ’Cause my game’s so good?”

“ ’Cause Sophie’s so good for you.”

She was good for him, Dune silently agreed. “I’m inviting Jen,” he forewarned Mac. “No bickering.”

“No guarantees.”

“Have you been by her shop?”

Mac shook his head. “Not for two days now.”

“Are you hoping she’ll miss you?”

“I’m keeping her guessing.”

“Don’t keep her guessing too long. I’ve told her she can bring a date.”

Mac powered the ball into Dune’s chest. “What the fuck?”

Dune had provoked and gotten a reaction. Mac needed to wake up. Being in limbo distracted him and made him crazy. He needed to straighten things out with Jen or move on. “You can bring a date, too, if you like.”

“I don’t like,” Mac said irritably.

A mad Mac made for a strong practice session. His partner took out his frustration on the ball. Mac slammed it so hard, Dune waited for it to deflate.

Four hours passed and they called it a day.

“I’m meeting Sophie shortly,” Dune said. “We’re headed to city hall to see the mayor, then stopping by the shop he’s designated for the museum.”

“Togetherness, how sweet.”

“Get a life,” Dune said as he headed to take a shower.

Dune caught up with Sophie at the northern end of the boardwalk near the rickshaw hut. She leaned against the blue pipe railing, looking out on the beach. She wore her floppy hat and body-covering clothes. She still avoided the sun.

His shadow fell over her, stretching long. She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Hello, Dune.” He liked the way she said his name.

His stance widened as he drew her back against him. Her shoulders pressed against his chest. Her bottom settled against his groin. He bent and kissed her neck. Her blush rose. He kissed her again, enjoying the pink in her cheeks.

“The stand-up paddleboard race is about to start,” she told him.

Dune checked out the beach. A hundred participants stood ready, their boards held over their heads. Single paddles were raised, carried alongside the boards. Everyone wore personal flotation devices. Life preservers ranged in color from hot orange to bright pink. The foam waist straps were basic beige.

Lifeguards patrolled the beach. Two manned speedboats waited nearby, ready to help if needed.

Dune knew many of the competitors. Some were novices; others were veterans. The water was so warm, T-shirts and shorts or swimsuits were worn instead of wet suits.

They listened as the starter’s voice echoed through a megaphone: three, two, one, go! There was a mad dash for the water. The majority of the paddleboarders mounted their boards with ease. Several beginners knelt, tipped, and lost their balance. They scrambled to recover their paddles.

Sophie pointed to a young girl, a preteen, in a one-piece swimsuit and arm floaters. “She’s having trouble getting into position,” she worried. “Someone needs to help her.”

“She’ll be disqualified if anyone assists her,” he said.

The girl fell off her board ten times before she centered her feet between the rails. She managed to keep her knees bent and her back straight. Her strokes were short and alongside the board. She was finally headed in the right direction.

“The course is a figure eight,” Dune said. “There will be rough water at the middle crossover point as participants enter and exit. A competitor is eliminated if he touches another board with his paddle.”

“The girl is last.” Her concern grew. “Do you think she can catch the others?”

“She has a lot of water to make up.” Nearly half a mile, Dune figured.

Sophie crossed her fingers. “Last place is fine, as long as she finishes.”

The lead athlete paddled with a precise, sure stroke. He appeared to skim the Gulf. He was soon headed back to the beach. A crowd had gathered and people cheered him on. It seemed every participant had a friend waiting.

One of the lifeguards passed out trophies for first through tenth place. The beach started to thin out by the time the last of the competitors hopped off their boards. The young girl stalled yards offshore, visibly struggling.

Sophie looked up at Dune. “She deserves a prize for perseverance. We must encourage her.”

We
. Again Sophie included him in her life. He found he liked that more and more. “How about giving her paddleboard lessons?” he suggested.

Her smile broke. “Perfect,” she agreed.

He took her hand. “The Chamber of Commerce sells gift cards for all the boardwalk shops and fishing excursions. Visitors can also get certificates for surfing, snorkeling, and paddleboard classes, all taught by the local lifeguards.”

The city building was four doors down. They walked fast. Once inside, he reached for his wallet, only to have Sophie put her hand over his. “I want to do this for her.”

She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a handful of bills. “More pedicab tips going to a good cause,” she said. She counted out fifty dollars. “Paddleboard lessons,” she told the clerk behind the counter.

“Good for five hours.” The woman quickly processed the certificate and stuck it in a gift envelope.

Sophie thanked her and they took off again. Dune watched her, amazed once more by her generosity. Sophie had a big heart and was about to perform a random act of kindness. He admired her greatly.

She reminded him of his sister Shaye. Shaye owned Goody Gumdrops and was always handing out free bags of penny candy to kids with little money. She felt everyone deserved a treat.

Side by side they took the stairs down to the beach. The finish line was nearly deserted now. The girl was still a good distance from the shore. She appeared tired, Dune thought. Her shoulders were slumped and her board wobbled. He hoped she didn’t fall off before she made it back to the beach. He was certain Sophie would dive in and try to save her.

Dune stood back as Sophie approached the lifeguard who handed out the trophies. Her voice rose softly over the slap of the surf. “Be sure the girl on the paddleboard gets this certificate,” she said. “She doesn’t need to know the gift is from me. Tell her that she may be the last to finish today, but she’ll be the first tomorrow.”

The lifeguard nodded. “Got it. Thanks, will do.”

Sophie returned to Dune. “Can we stay and see her finish?” she asked.

“I’d say she deserves a round of applause.”

They both clapped loudly when the girl came ashore. She dragged her board and paddle and staggered up to the lifeguard. She dipped her head and smiled when he patted her on the back and praised her with, “Way to go!” He presented her with the gift certificate.

“We can go now,” Sophie whispered.

“You don’t want to see her open the envelope?” Dune asked.

Sophie put her hand over her heart. “I feel her excitement. That’s all I need.”

Dune curved his arm over her shoulders. “You’re a good person, Sophie Saunders.” She would be a nurturing, compassionate mother, he realized. She drew his thoughts to family and settling down.

She jarred him a moment later when she said, “I might enter the paddleboard competition next year. I could take lessons, too. What do you think?”

“You’d need to strengthen your arms, practice balance, and become a stronger swimmer,” he said, being honest with her. “Then you’d be fine.”

“Thanks, Dune.”

“For what?”

“For understanding my need for adventure.”

He would always worry about her, but Sophie had been confined for too long. She needed to feel free. He hoped many of her experiences would include him.

They returned to the boardwalk, where the unicycle troupe was gathering to perform. His cousin Rick was already mounted and doing tricks. Rick circled Sophie on his “giraffe,” riding forward then backward, and finally bouncing on one tire.

“You’re amazing,” she called to him.

Rick saluted her, then motioned to the troupe. They rolled on, riding single file down the boardwalk.

Sophie turned to Dune. “Can we walk for a few minutes? I’d like to see the sandcastle building and kite flying contest.”

Dune obliged. He kept her close as they worked their way through the crowd. Everyone was enjoying the hot day. Florida residents recognized a change in seasons. Today truly felt like summer to him. The sun refused to hide behind the clouds and what little breeze there was tickled the back of his neck.

People viewed the sandcastle contest from both the boardwalk and beach. Each entry was roped off. A couple scooted over and Dune and Sophie squeezed in along the railing. Sophie took off her floppy hat and fanned herself.

Dune bent down and blew in her ear.

“You’re not cooling me off.” She swatted him with her hat.

He was feeling the heat himself. She was so close they continued to touch. Each brush of her body forced him to shift his stance and make a discreet adjustment.

“Look at that medieval castle and moat.” She pointed left. “That giant sand crab is true-to-life. The pincers look real.”

“I like the sailboat.” He squinted down the beach. “Someone’s attempting to build the Empire State Building.”