Read No Strings Attached Online

Authors: Kate Angell

No Strings Attached (40 page)

The score was again tied.

Sean Taylor was up to serve. The ball came across the net at an odd angle. Dune managed to scoop it up, and Mac made the jump. Then something happened that no one saw coming. He twisted in the air and landed on his ankle at an awkward angle. They scored the point, but Mac was down.

A time-out was called.

“He’s sprained his ankle,” Jen said, upset.

“Or broken it,” came from Kai. He frowned at the screen, his hand fisted on his knee. “Dune helped him up, but Mac’s not putting any weight on his foot.”

“Oh . . . no.” Sophie sighed. Dune was already hurt before they started; now Mac was injured. She shook her head, her gaze locked on the TV.

“The Taylors are looking smug.” Trace scowled. He set down his beer on an end table with a loud thud.

The camera shifted to the two cousins. They were elbowing each other, looking cocky and not the least bit concerned for their opponent’s welfare.

Sophie watched as Mac walked around the court, testing his ankle. “He has to be hurting,” she said.

“Even if he is, he won’t show it,” Shaye said matter-of-factly. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Looks like they’re not stopping the set,” Trace said, surprised at their decision. He glanced around at the others, then returned to the television.

Play continued.

“One more point,” Shaye said anxiously.

Mac’s next serve tipped the net. Scott Taylor dumped it back on Dune. Both teams kept the point alive. The rally went on and on. It took a long rout to terminate the point.

Time seemed to slow when Dune handset the ball and Mac chopped it between Scott’s feet. By intent or accident, Sophie couldn’t tell which, the volleyball bounced up and hit Scott in the balls. He bent, coughed, and couldn’t recover the save.

Cates and James had won the match.

The Taylors threw down their baseball caps, two very angry men with unsportsmanlike attitudes.

Everyone gathered in Sophie’s den screamed as loudly as the fans on television. It was a moment she would never forget. Dune’s family jumped up and down and hugged each other as if they’d won the set themselves. Even Frank got into the spirit of the win. He toasted the boys on TV with his beer.

“Never underestimate the heart of a champion,” said Frank with pride. “They powered through adversity.”

“Look, they’re being interviewed,” Shaye indicated, quieting them. Everyone sat back down.

Sportscaster Ty Kemp praised the players’ consistency, accuracy, and effort. He then asked Mac about his ankle.

“I’ll live,” he said. He was hunched over with two gorgeous beach babes tucked beneath each of his arms, like big-breasted crutches. They supported him during the interview. He couldn’t stop grinning.

Dune stood tall beside Mac. He wasn’t alone for long. Sophie watched along with the entire TV audience as a hostess from Aqua Gold brought him a fresh towel. Dune removed his sunglasses and she blotted his brow, then patted down his shoulders and chest. Dune smiled his appreciation. Sophie frowned.

The sportscaster pulled Dune back to the interview. Ty Kemp relived the match, detailing each play. Dune added to the sportscaster’s commentary, promoting their strengths, but never mentioning their weaknesses. He commended the Taylors for a good match, calling them tough competitors.

The interview wound down with Kemp’s final question.

“What are your upcoming plans, Dune?” the sportscaster asked him. “Will you be at Hermosa Beach in two weeks?”

“A lot depends on Mac’s ankle,” Dune said without hesitation. “After he gets it checked out, we’ll make our decision.”

“Good luck to you both,” Kemp said, ending the interview.

The cameraman made one last sweep of the court. The crowd was going crazy, cheering and whistling. The celebration had begun. Dune and Mac were surrounded by women, all sexy and beautiful, and all wanting to share in their win. It was party time in Surf City.

Silence settled in the den, each of them with their own thoughts until Shaye said, “It’s been a long day for our guys. They need to relax.”

“Mac requires medical attention.” Jen was clearly agitated. Her tone was anything but subtle when she said, “His human crutches need to get him to the emergency room.”

Jenna glanced at Sophie, the bummed-out look on her face saying it all. Her uncertainty was evident. Sophie returned her look. They were both thinking the same thing. The men they knew and loved were on the opposite coast at the center of an enormous party bash. They were the honored guests. Women would do just about anything for their attention.

Sophie’s stomach sank and insecurity gripped her.

What could she do? Or Jen? Dune and Mac were in their element. They were warriors on the beach, and victorious in their match. Fans wanted a piece of each man. Groupies could be persistent. Sophie sat down when the last sweep of the camera showed five hot blondes hanging onto Dune. One woman had her hand tucked into the back waistband on his board shorts.

That wasn’t anything new to Sophie. She had witnessed the same scene on TV every time she watched Dune play. Up until now, she’d accepted his popularity. He was a red-blooded male. He liked women and they liked him. He worked hard at his sport. He needed to cut loose after his match. It hadn’t mattered to her how many women came on to him.

Sophie couldn’t deny to herself that wasn’t true anymore. Tonight, it mattered greatly to her. She’d thought they had something special.

She wasn’t so sure now.

She stared at the television screen long after the sporting event came to an end. Long after the list of credits went by and the beach and volleyball net faded. She was vaguely aware of Shaye and Nicole picking up empty bags of chips and soda cans.

Jenna rose from the sofa first. Sophie noticed how pale she looked. As if she, too, had lost something tonight. “I’m off,” she said with tightness in her voice. Then she was gone.

Shaye, Trace, and Frank stayed behind.

Shaye tried to comfort her. “Hang in there, Sophie,” she said. “The celebration comes with the win. The after-party will soon fizzle. Mac’s injury will take top priority. He’s hurt and will spend most of the evening in the emergency room. Dune will stick by him.”

“There are so many women,” Sophie’s voice was no more than a whisper.

“They come and they go,” Shaye told her with confidence. “Women love athletes. Volleyball draws a lot of female fans in skimpy bikinis.” She patted Sophie on the arm, trying to reassure her. “That doesn’t take anything away from you and Dune.”

Sophie’s heart squeezed. His wrist had appeared healed. He had options now. Volleyball was his life. She wasn’t sure he’d return to Barefoot William.

“We’ll let ourselves out,” said Shaye. She and Trace both gave Sophie a hug, then left.

Only Frank remained, and that wasn’t for long.

A commercial for dog food came on the TV, prompting Frank to say, “That reminds me, I need to stop at the grocery store on my way home and pick up food for Ghost. Dune wouldn’t be happy that we split a Swiss steak TV dinner last night. Ghost refused the mashed potatoes and vegetable medley. He only wanted the meat and dessert. He sure likes vanilla ice cream.”

“You need to take care of Ghost,” Sophie said as she walked Frank to the door. “It’s time for me to put my hamsters in their plastic ball so they can run. They’re big enough to each have their own ball, but when I separate them, they don’t go far. They prefer to be together.”

“Familiarity is important,” Frank agreed. He gazed down, giving her a grandfatherly smile. “Never judge by appearances, Sophie. Trust in your heart.”

Seventeen

S
ophie’s heart hurt for several days.

Everywhere she went, the pain went with her. Shopping, fixing up the museum, reading a book, the ache never left her.

It was still there this morning when she found Frank waiting for her at the museum with a box of assorted doughnuts and hot coffee.

“Any word from our boy?” Frank referred to Dune.

“Nothing, sorry,” she said, disappointed.

Relationships were new to her. Maybe she was expecting too much from him. He’d called from the hospital, informing her that Mac had fractured his ankle. Mac didn’t need surgery, he said, but his partner would be in a medical boot for six to eight weeks. Mac planned to recover at his beach condo in Malibu before heading back to Barefoot William.

Dune also mentioned checking on his volleyball camps while he was out on the West Coast. The summer sessions were about to start. He wanted to be sure each site was well staffed with the ratio of attendees to coaches three to one. The kids mattered most, he told her. The benefits of their experience could produce a top seed someday.

Dune made no reference to when he might return and Sophie didn’t press him. He texted her once a day, but kept the tone light and easy, as if she were only a friend and he was ruffling her hair. Sophie’s stomach sank at the end of each impersonal message.

“I watched the morning news,” Frank said, settling onto his chair and grabbing a glazed blueberry cake doughnut. “The CNN sports anchor reported that Dune is actively seeking a new partner for the Hermosa Beach Open. The newscaster dropped names, but nothing has been finalized.” The older man frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Dune. He’s loyal to Mac.”

Sophie had no idea what was happening on the West Coast. She could only concentrate on her own here and now. She dedicated herself to her job as curator. She spent long hours at the museum. Frank didn’t miss a day and often arrived ahead of her. She had given him a key. He greeted her every morning with hot coffee, baked goods, and a weathered smile.

They’d grown close, Sophie realized. They spent a great deal of time talking. The older man told her stories of his father and grandfather, and had her laughing over his own childhood. He liked soapbox derbies, but he had never won a race. He collected Lionel trains and brought the train set out every Christmas. He and his adolescent friends played tag in the cow pasture, only to have the bull chase them. He was good for a game of gin or cribbage at any hour of the day or night.

There was also another side of Frank she’d never dreamed existed. The soldier. He was a loyal man, she learned. He’d served in Korea. He shaved his head bald when one of his Army buddies was diagnosed with cancer and went through chemotherapy. He was a pallbearer at the man’s funeral. He marched in the Veterans Day parade each year.

This morning, Frank had something else on his mind than telling stories, and he wasn’t shy about saying it either.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with that grandson of mine,” he said, finishing his coffee. “He’s always been considerate of others. I’m sorry he hasn’t been more communicative, Sophie.”

“I’m sure he has a lot on his mind right now,” she said. Her hands were cold, her heart colder. “He needs to make the right decision for his future, Frank.”

“I remember how it was when I met my wife. Emma Loraine Halverson was the prettiest thing a man could see on a summer day,” Frank began. “She’d ridden the train into town with her family. They were on vacation. I fell in love with her when I saw her at Milford’s Soda Shop sipping a strawberry shake topped with whipped cream and a cherry. She reminded me of sunshine with her honey blond hair, blue eyes, and warm smile.”

“What’d you do next, Frank?” Sophie wanted to know.

“I introduced myself,” Frank continued, “then I asked her if I could sit at her table. She lowered her eyes and nodded. I could barely eat my double-dip vanilla ice cream cone, I was so nervous. I kept wiping my face with my handkerchief.” He sighed. “I’ll never forget that day. Ever.”

His smile was wistful. “I asked her to marry me after two dates. She agreed. We married on a Sunday. Emma’s parents returned to Ohio and their daughter remained in Barefoot William. We had four children. Their children gave us eighteen grandchildren. I’m waiting on Shaye and Trace to give me a great-grandbaby.”

She could’ve listened to Frank tell stories all morning, but she had work to do. People came and went throughout the day as they had all week. Randy and Chuck showed up at the museum with their sketchpads in hand. Sophie discovered the boys were quite talented. She decided to give them a chance to draw the Cates family tree.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. Shaye and Trace stopped in to check on Sophie at noon on Wednesday. Shaye had tears in her eyes when Frank and Trace shook hands and agreed to work together in the future. Frank had a parcel of land that Trace wanted to acquire for a public park. Frank was ready to negotiate.

Late Friday afternoon, Jenna Cates arrived at the museum in a pedicab. She asked the driver to wait for her at the curb. She then pushed through the door. “How are you doing, Sophie?” she asked, leaning back against the doorjamb.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Sophie returned, eyeing her friend. “You’ve lost weight.”

“Six pounds,” Jen said with a weariness in her voice Sophie hadn’t heard before. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have dark circles under my eyes.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Uncombed and no gel.”

Her gaze was flat, too, Sophie noticed. Jen had pretty brown eyes, but they weren’t nearly as bright or fiery as when Mac was in town.

“I’m a mess,” Jen admitted, jamming her hands in the pockets of her denim shorts. “I’ve never allowed any man to walk into my life and steal my heart.” She sighed. “Not until Mac James sauntered into Three Shirts. He broke my rules and I fell in love. Not my smartest move.”

“Mac is a charmer,” Sophie agreed.

“A charmer who hasn’t called me,” said Jen. She released a breath, then gently asked, “Any word from Dune?”

“Nothing recent,” Sophie told her. “I’m assuming he’s busy, between his volleyball camps and dealing with Mac. Mac needs to rest. Without supervision, he’ll be up and walking on the beach—”

“Using hot, gorgeous women for crutches,” Jenna said, flinching. “I can’t get that image out of my mind.”

“Me, either,” Sophie said, remembering the TV news coverage of the celebration. She could still picture Dune surrounded by tanned, toned, and adoring female fans. He’d been the center of their crush, appearing pleased by their attention.

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