Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series (20 page)

He glanced around the busy restaurant, noting the looks they were getting. “Screw them.” He held up his hand as the waitress walked by. “Check please.”

“Sure thing.” The woman eyed Sophie as she turned away.

“I just want to go back to Los Angeles.”

“Hopefully tomorrow.”

She nodded.

The waitress brought the bill over. “Thanks for coming in. It was good to see you again, Sophie. You look so different.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Liza.”

Stone jotted down a tip and signed the merchant’s copy. “Let’s get out of here.” He took her hand, and they walked outside into the cooling evening. He scanned their surroundings in the dim streetlights, pulling her close to him, for warmth but also because he’d spotted the familiar black Mercedes parallel parked halfway down the block. Eric was here. He’d followed them at a distance for most of the day. Eric Winthrop could paint, and he had a knack for beating defenseless women, but he sure as hell wasn’t stealthy by any means. Calling the cops to report harassment wasn’t an option. Clyde and his crew clearly weren’t on Sophie’s side, so he’d done his best to ignore Eric’s presence. Sophie hadn’t seemed to notice the intrusion, which worked just fine for him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed,” he said as they crossed the street. He opened the door to the hotel lobby, letting her in before him.

“I’m too restless.”

He punched the button for the elevator. “What if you try a shower?”

She shrugged as they stepped inside. “I guess.”

Within moments the door opened on the fifth floor. They walked to their room and he let them in.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt to give the shower a try.”

“Go for it.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV as she unzipped her carryon, pulling her clothes from the bag, heading toward the bathroom.

Stone stripped down himself, changing into basketball shorts, stretching out on the bed. For the first time since they landed, he was able to let his guard down. He pressed the buttons on the remote, flipping through the unfamiliar channel lineup while he waited for Sophie. Several minutes later she came out, among a plume of steam, in her usual tank top and shorts, her face free of makeup and her hair damp from the shower.

“Better?”

“Mmm. Much.”

“Good.”

She put her clothes away and wandered to the window, her shoulders set and rigid as they had been for hours.

He glanced at the Dodgers’ highlights and at Sophie as she moved toward the small table, nibbling her lip then started back toward the window. “You gonna sit down, Soph, or wear out the carpet?”

She paused, touching the glass. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to settle. I keep telling myself I just have to make it through tonight, then we get to go home, but it doesn’t help.” She licked her lips, swiping wisps of hair behind her ear. “His house is over there among that grouping of lights.” She shuddered, crossing her arms. “I know it’s miles away, but still.” She huffed. “I keep replaying the way he grabbed me at the police station. I hate that I let him touch me. I hate that he scares me.”

She was tying herself up in more knots. He sat up. “Come here.” He patted the space next to him on the bed.

She glanced over her shoulder, turned, and walked his way, sitting at his side.

“Watch TV with me.” He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her down with him, settling her against him. “Romantic comedy, right?”

“You pick. I’m too distracted to pay attention.”

He nudged her rigid body closer, wanting desperately for her to relax. “Let’s give it a try anyway.” He flipped through stations, stopping on a Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson flick already playing. “How about this?”

“Sure.”

He settled back on the pillow, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles against her arm. As the minutes passed her body relaxed, and eventually she uncurled her fist lying on his chest. He glanced down at her wedding ring close to his heart, staring at her pretty fingers touching his skin.

She chuckled, then all-out laughed while the couple on TV bantered back and forth.

He smiled. This was exactly what he wanted. He tuned into the movie himself, content with Sophie in his arms, and found himself chuckling right along with her before the movie cut to a commercial break.

She looked up at him. “I forgot how funny this is.”

“It’s not too bad.”

She grinned. “I’m pretty sure I heard you laughing.”

He smiled. “Chick flicks aren’t really my deal.”

“What do you like?”

“The clichéd manly movies. The more stuff that blows up, the better.” He smiled as she did.

Her gaze flicked to his mouth, then met his.

She smelled amazing, as always; her skin was warm against his as he trailed his fingers along her jaw, down her neck and arm. “You thinking about kissing me, Soph?” he asked quietly.

Her breath shuddered in and out as she touched his cheek. “Yes.”

“Kiss me,” he whispered.

She moved in hesitantly, capturing his mouth slowly, chastely.

“That’s a nice start.” He stopped her from easing away with his hand on the back of her neck. “Kiss me again.”

She came back for more, holding his gaze as he parted his lips, sliding his tongue against the silk of hers. Following his lead, she copied him stroke for stroke, running her fingers through his hair, far less shy than she had been in his kitchen. He took her deeper, savoring her taste, pulling her on top of him, brushing his palms down her ribs, to her waist and the hem of her shirt, sliding up the cotton as he traveled back. Her breathing came faster as he tore his lips from hers, staring into her eyes, rolling until she lay against the pillow and he settled himself at her side. But all he wanted was to feel her beneath him. “Is this okay?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushed, the violet of her eyes shades darker.

He took her mouth again, more urgently, nibbling her bottom lip, tugging gently, wanting it all, needing it. Feathering kisses along her temples and cheekbones, he moved to the rapid pulse point in her neck, then her collarbone, groaning when her hesitant hands trailed up his arms to his shoulders and down his back. Her touch was so timid and teasing, her gaze so shy as she held his.

God he could eat her alive. He pushed at the loose straps of her top, exposing her beautiful breasts, her pink nipples already hard. He touched her with the tips of his fingers, and she arched. Leaning in, he bathed her sensitive peak, tracing the point as she clutched at his waist, her hips rocking as she whimpered. He sampled her other breast, watching her stomach shudder with each shaky breath. She was so responsive. He wanted her. He could have her right now, but not here and not like this. He kissed her again, regretting the crappy timing, and eased away, caressing her cheek. “I think your movie’s back on.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, and she licked her swollen lips. “Huh?”

“Your movie.”

“But—”

“You’re missing your show.”

Confusion moved through her eyes before she looked away as if she’d done something wrong.

“Hey.” He gripped her chin, holding her gaze. “Not here,” he murmured, kissing her again, fixing her shirt. “Not here, Soph. Not when you’re thinking about him.”

She nodded, touching his cheek.

His cell phone started ringing on the side table. “I need to get that.” He leaned over her, reaching for the phone. “Yeah. Hello.”

“Stone, it’s Jeremiah.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” He sat up, and Sophie followed.

“It looks like Eric is willing to drop the charges as long as Sophie gives up the money.”

He clenched his jaw. The bastard had balls, that was for sure. “But it’s hers.” He didn’t give a damn what the legalities were. That money belonged to Sophie, and everyone knew it.

“That may be so. We can make this easy or we can drag it out.”

He looked at Sophie staring at him, her eyes weary again, her cheeks, flushed just moments ago, now pale. He wanted her to file charges against Eric for the marks he left on her today and the hell he’d put her though over the last couple of years. He deserved to rot in jail. “So he gets the money, and he’s going to stay away.”

“That’s what he says.”

“I want it in writing.”

“I’m already a step ahead of you. I drafted something up when I got back to the office. Eric’s supposed to be meeting up with his lawyer right now. They’ll be faxing me the paperwork within the hour. If you want I can stop by the hotel in the morning and grab the money. You and Sophie should be good to head home.”

“And that’ll wrap this up?”

“That’ll end it.”

He’d already looked at potential flights out while Sophie sat by her mother’s grave. They weren’t going anywhere until eleven. “We’ll see you around eight if that works for you.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks for all your help.”

“I’m glad I could. Bye.”

“Bye.” He hung up.

“So?” She swallowed, clutching her hands in her lap.

“It’s over.”

“It’s over,” she repeated cautiously.

“Eric wants the cash, but he’s signing something Jeremiah drew up saying he’ll leave you alone.”

“He’s going to leave me alone.”

“Yeah.” But he knew that was a bunch of bullshit. Someone who’d gone to the lengths Eric had wouldn’t just walk away.

“And he has to?”

“If he doesn’t want to end up in court.”

“Okay.” She stood. “Okay,” she said again on a shaky laugh. “Do we need to take the money to the police?” She hurried to her bag.

It bothered him that she didn’t seem to care about what happened today or the fact that she was handing over the cash she’d earned. “Jeremiah will meet us here in the morning.”

“I can’t believe this is over,” she said again walking to him, hugging him.

He pulled her to his side, holding her closer, sliding his hand down her back. “Are you sure you don’t want to file charges for the abuse?”

“I’m sure.”

“But we have the thumb drive. You have proof.”

She shook her head. “I don’t care about the money. I don’t care about the past or what happened at the police station a few hours ago. I just want to get on a plane, go home, and move on with my life.” She drew back, her arms around his waist. “This is such good news.”

It was good news if Eric stuck to his end of the deal, but that was doubtful. He gave her a small smile. “We should head to bed.”

“I might actually be able to sleep. Maybe.” She crawled across the mattress and slid under the covers. “I can’t wait to see Murphy. I miss him so much.”

He picked up his laptop and lay on the bed next to her. “Let’s see if we can get a flight out of here.” He wanted them back in LA as much as Sophie wanted to go. The more miles they had between themselves and Eric Winthrop, the better.

~~~~

Eric sat back in his home office, staring at the paperwork his attorney had urged him to sign—for cooperation’s sake, of course. He’d argued the point for almost an hour, loathing the fact that Sophie had maneuvered the entire situation to her advantage, but somehow the stupid bitch had done just that.

She was here in Maine, just miles away. She was afraid, but more, she was
married
. David confirmed Sophie and her new husband had filed their license in Los Angeles yesterday. He’d followed the happy couple around Bangor and the surrounding area, yet he still couldn’t believe it. Everything was
ruined
. The five million dollars he’d rightfully earned now belonged to that muscled goon who manhandled him in the police station.

He picked up the crystal glass on his desk, his hand shaking, his breath heaving as he swirled his top-shelf whiskey. “Stupid,
stupid
Sophie,” he murmured. But this time she’d been smart. He chucked his glass, letting it fly against the wall, waiting for the satisfaction his random bouts of destruction brought, but the sensation was irritatingly absent. Sophie Burke—or
McCabe—
won this round, but she had to know he never came in last.

Sophie sat sandwiched between Stone and Abby in the
noisy restaurant, swallowing the last sip of her strawberry daiquiri. The music was loud, the food good, the company even better. She’d never been on a double date before, but now that she was, she couldn’t wait for the next one. Abby had picked the spot, insisting they kick off the first-ever Sophie McCabe birthday eve celebration. She’d been content to spend a quiet evening at home with Stone, but this was a great alternative.

“Do you want another one?” Abby gestured to her empty glass.

“No thanks. One is good for me.”

“Jerrod and I are going to dance.” Abby wiggled her brows as her husband gave her a pained look. “You guys wanna join us?”

“
No
,” Stone answered for Sophie.

“Aw, party poopers.”

“I’ll dance with you.” Sophie smiled.

Abby beamed. “Great. Come on.” She took her hand, walking with her to the busy dance floor in the center of the dining area.

“I’m not really much of a dancer.”

“That’s okay. Just have fun.” Abby raised her hands above her head, moving her hips to the beat in her slinky red dress.

Sophie did her best to copy in her black mid-thigh length skirt and white, clinging crocheted racer-back top. She swayed left and right, laughing, surprised to realize she actually had rhythm.

“Awesome!” Abby took her hand again and they both spun around. “Your hair looks amazing tonight, by the way.”

She smiled, brushing back the glossy locks she’d curled at the ends. “Thanks. Marco sent me a bottle of some shine stuff and a new curling iron, along with detailed instructions.”

“Well, he didn’t do you wrong.”

“He certainly didn’t. I’ll have to swing by Lily Brand this week and thank him for thinking of me.”

“I happen to know firsthand that Marco is smitten with you.”

She blinked her surprise. “He is?”

“He thinks you’re ‘a gentle beauty with great hair.’ And that’s a direct quote.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to think of that. “I don’t want to take advantage of—”

“He’s gay, Sophie.” Abby grinned. “He just really likes you.”

“Oh.” She smiled her relief. “Okay. I feel much better about that.”

She looked over to where Stone and Jerrod sat, talking and watching. Stone wore a simple white Ethan Cooke Security t-shirt with blue jeans and one of those kerchiefs that tucked back his hair—and made her mouth water.

He motioned for her to come to him with a crook of his finger. Grinning, she shook her head, pointing to the spot next to her. He shook his head in response and she shrugged, turning back to Abby. “I don’t think they’re coming.”

“Sure they are.” She grinned mischievously, winking. “I know for a fact Jerrod can only hold out for so long. He can’t keep his hands off me.”

As if on cue, Jerrod stood and made his way over.

“See?”

She laughed. “I guess so.”

“I’m going to have to cut in,” Jerrod said, pulling Abby against him, wrapping her up tight as a cute man sporting a charming smile and crew cut took Sophie’s hand.

“Looking lovely tonight, hottie.” He tugged her further into the crowd. “Let’s dance.”

“Uh… I don’t know.”

“Come on.” He turned up the wattage on his grin. “It’ll be fun.”

“I—”

Stone appeared, tapping the guy’s shoulder. “Beat it.”

Frowning, Mr. Crew Cut opened his mouth to protest.

“That’s my wife. Go find your own.”

“Thanks anyway,” Sophie called as the man walked off, secretly thrilled Stone had come.

He clutched her hips, tugging her close. “I’m still new to this whole marriage thing, but I’m pretty sure flaunting other men in your spouse’s face is bad form.”

Grinning, she laced her hands behind his neck as they moved slowly, despite the upbeat tempo. “That’s what I’ve heard, but you’re here dancing with me, so it all worked out.”

“Smooth operator, huh?”

She chuckled. “Perhaps.”

He smiled. “You feeling any older?”

She shook her head. “I’m not twenty-five yet.”

He glanced at his watch. “Another couple hours.”

“That’s two more hours to treasure my early twenties.”

He raised his brow. “I’ve heard that thirty is the new eighty.”

She laughed. “I realize you’ve come to terms with your ripe old age since you’re mere months from transitioning to the big three-oh, but I’m still adjusting.”

“I see.”

She smiled, absolutely, perfectly happy now that Stone was home from his week-and-a-half of impromptu travel. From the moment their flight from Maine touched down at LAX until late last night he’d been gone. First, the star-studded Hollywood gala kept him away, then the last-second, weeklong trip to London. He’d kissed her good and long when he stumbled through the door at two o’ clock this morning, gave Murphy a quick tummy rub, and disappeared into the trailer until Abby’s afternoon phone call woke him. “Are you tired?”

He shook his head. “Not too bad.”

“Thanks for coming out with us. I know you would rather be home.”

“I wouldn’t mind being home.” He held her gaze, his meaning perfectly clear. They both wanted to pick up where they’d left off in the hotel.

Her stomach tightened with the rush of nervous anticipation. For days she’d thought of the way he’d touched her and made her feel. Stone kept gifting her new experiences. Tonight she hoped he would give her the rest. Snagging her lip, she looked down, wondering how to tell him she wanted him to make her his lover.

“Or we can stay right here. This works for me too.”

He was giving her the option, ultimately letting her decide how the rest of the evening would go. She met his gaze. “We—we could go.”

He took her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles, sending a cascade of heat along her skin with the promise in his eyes. “We should say goodnight to Abby and Jerrod.”

“I—yes.” She swallowed. “Okay.”

They walked over to where Abby and Jerrod snuggled together, laughing.

“Um, we’re going to go.”

“Oh.” Abby freed herself from Jerrod’s arms. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, holding Abby’s gaze, knowing the moment her friend understood.

“All right then.” Abby hugged her tight. “Take care and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“I will.”

“Call me tomorrow.”

“Definitely.” She hugged Jerrod. “Thanks for the fun.”

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

Stone exchanged a hug with Abby and a handshake with Jerrod. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He took her hand as they made their way to the Mustang. “You wanna stop and walk the beach first?”

She shook her head. “I’m ready to go home.” She wanted him to put her out of her misery and take her to bed.

He opened her door, closed her in, and walked around to his side. Minutes later, they took the quick right onto Ocean Ave, merging onto Highway One. He grabbed her hand, holding it as he got up to speed among the busy flow of traffic.

She sent him a smile. “I was thinking—” Her phone rang—her new phone Stone had convinced her to get with a service plan instead of the pay-as-you-go, now that she didn’t have to worry about hiding. “I’m going to ignore that.”

“Go ahead and answer. There aren’t many people who have your number. If someone’s calling, there’s a reason.”

“That’s true.” Regretfully, she withdrew her hand from his and dug into her purse, pulling out the phone. “Hello?”

“Sophie, it’s Lily.”

She pressed a hand to her ear, trying to hear over the wind blowing in through the open windows. “Lily?”

Stone raised his brows.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank—thank you.”

“Listen, I’ll keep this short. Abby said you had dinner plans tonight.”

“Oh, that’s okay. We just left, actually.”

“I’ll keep it short anyway. I want your jewelry for the next fashion show. Abby shared your idea for a
Freedom
line. I’ve seen your work. I like the whole concept. I’d like to meet with you tomorrow at eleven to discuss terms and get a contract worked up.”

Her eyes grew huge as she swatted at Stone’s arm. “Uh, yes. Yes. I can do that.”

“Great. I’ll see you then. Bring samples.”

“Okay.” The line disconnected in her ear. “Hello?” Frowning, she pulled the phone back. Lily didn’t mess around. She put the phone away, trying to digest the conversation she’d just had. “Holy cow. Holy
cow
.”

“What? You’re killing me here, Soph.”

“I just got off the phone with Lily Thomas.”

“I know.”

“The same Lily Thomas who wants to sit down and talk a contract tomorrow for my own
jewelry
line.” She laughed. “I can’t
believe
this.” She squealed, doing a quick boogie in her seat. “I really can’t believe this.”

He grinned. “That’s freaking awesome.”

“Yeah, it is.” Sighing her contentment, she stared out her window, looking up to the stars, stunned by the changes her life had taken in so short a time—home, marriage, friends, the career she’d always dreamed of.

Stone slowed, taking the turn toward the cliffs, traveling to the top of his road, and stopped in his spot in the driveway. “What are you thinking about?”

“About how lucky I am.” She looked at him. “I’m so lucky, Stone.”

“You deserve a little luck.”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“Are you getting out?” He gestured to the door.

“Yeah.” She got out, meeting him at the front bumper.

He pulled her into a hug. “Congratulations, Soph.”

She closed her eyes, holding on. “Thanks.”

“You deserve this.”

“Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his, once, twice, too excited to be shy.

He locked his hands around her waist. “I guess we’re going to have to schedule another celebration. Do you want to call Abby?”

The only thing she wanted to think about right now was him. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“I can get behind that.” He kissed her, pulling an inch away, and came back, sliding his tongue along her bottom lip. “Mmm. Strawberry.”

“The daiquiri.”

“Tastes good,” he murmured, sampling again, molding her hips with his hands, wandering to her butt, pulling them heat to heat.

She hummed with the whippy, rushing thrill.

“Come on, Soph,” he said against her mouth.

She nodded, walking with him to the house.

He pulled her against him again when they reached the entrance, pressing her to the solid wood of the door.

She locked her arms around the back of his neck. “Thanks for tonight.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Dinner was incredible.”

“I don’t want to talk about food.”

“Right.” She licked her lips as her nerves came back.

“I want to show you something.”

She was certain he was going to show her all kinds of things. “Okay.”

He let them into the house, and Murphy ran out, peed, and came back in.

“Hi, baby boy.” She crouched down, rubbing her sweet puppy as his tail wagged frantically. “You’re a good boy. Yes you are.”

Murphy licked her cheek.

“Aw, thanks. Go lay back down and get some sleep.” She stood as Murphy wandered over to the bed she’d bought him.

“You finished?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He snagged her hand, walking with her down the hallway, and flipped on the light switch.

She gasped, staring at the big oak sleigh bed and matching furnishings set up around the half-finished space. “Stone, this is beautiful.”

“I still have work to do in here.” He drew her further into the room. “We’ll have to pull all of this out when I get ready to do the floor, but I wanted you to have this in the meantime—a real place to sleep.”

She took in the pretty ivory and pale-green wedding ring quilt, brushed nickel lamps on the bedside tables, and flourishing plants tucked in beautifully glazed pots by the window. “I
love
it.”

“Wren helped me pick out everything.”

“You two did an excellent job.”

“You’re sure you like it?”

She nodded, making her way to the bed, touching the soft fabric of the blankets. “Definitely. It’s perfect.”

He walked to her, sliding the hair back from her shoulders. “Happy birthday, Soph.”

“Thank you.” She snagged her lip, unsure of what to do as he stared in her eyes.

He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her in the dim light of the new lamps, drawing out their tender embrace until she thought she might melt right there.

She slipped out of her sandals and eased back, pulling off her shirt, and made a grab for the front clasp of her bra.

He pressed his hand over hers, halting her movements. “What are you doing?”

“I’m—I’m getting undressed.”

“There’s no rush.”

There was always a rush. He was supposed to be naked by now and she lying on the bed ready to receive him. “I just thought—”

“I want to do this.” He kissed her chin. “I want to peel off your clothes.” He brushed his lips along her jaw while he slid his palms over the fabric of her bra.

Closing her eyes, she let loose a shaky breath as her nipples responded to his teasing thumbs.

“I’m going to touch you.” He pulled at the clasp, catching her breasts as they fell. “And taste.” He brought his mouth to sensitive skin, lapping, nibbling, suckling.

She moaned, settling her hands on his hips, absorbing the flickers of delicious sensations while he pressed kisses to her neck and unzipped her skirt, sending it to the floor. She tipped her heavy head to the side as his tongue trailed a hot line along her collarbone and he clutched at her butt, over her panties, then under.

“God, Soph,” he groaned. “You’re so soft.”

Kissing him, she went after the snap on his jeans.

He pulled back. “Not yet.”

They should be finished by now. There were never soft kisses and gentle touches. This wasn’t the way she knew. “I’m—I’m not—when?”

“When we’re ready.”

She looked down at the bulge in his jeans. “I want you to be satisfied.”

He took her hand, pressing it against him. “Does that feel like I’m unsatisfied?”

He felt hard, and big, and ready. “No.”