Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series (25 page)

“Mmm, I think maybe five hours ago.” Olivia said, glancing at Kylee, who nodded her agreement.

He raised his brow at their skewed sense of time and stood, sighing, remembering the wounded look in Sophie’s eyes as she turned and walked away. “I should probably go find her and keep her company.”

“Okay. Bye.” They ran off, stopping in front of Shane, tapping his arm.

“I’m heading out,” he interrupted Amber as she opened her mouth to speak again.

She set down her glass of wine. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I’m going to find Sophie. Later.” He tossed his half-empty bottle in the recycle bin on his way down the deck stairs, bypassing the gabfest sure to be going on in the kitchen, and walked around to the front of the house, noting that Sophie’s car definitely wasn’t here. Steaming out a breath, he got in his Mustang and drove toward the cliffs, trying to figure out how he and Sophie could finally put an end to their issues with Winthrop once and for all. But their problems with Eric would have to wait until after he apologized for being a dick this afternoon.

Minutes later he pulled into the drive, getting out as Sophie turned the corner of the house, sweat soaked and flushed, carrying a panting Murphy in her arms. He shut his door, and her eyes darted to his as he walked her way. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she said quietly, looking down as she continued passed him, unlocking the door and laying Murphy in his bed.

He followed her inside. “You ditched the party.”

“I had stuff to do.” She started down the hall.

“I was a jerk.”

She shrugged her shoulders on the way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her when she got there.

He sighed, clenching his jaw, ready to wait her out. “Screw this.” He’d waited five damn days to patch things up; they weren’t leaving it like this for one more second. He hustled down the hall after her, swinging the door open as she peeled off her exercise bra. “Soph—”

“Excuse me.” She covered herself, frowning.

“I was an ass. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged for the second time, tossing him the same wounded look she’d sent him on Ethan’s deck. “It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, it is. I wish you wouldn’t have left.”

She pulled the elastic from her hair, sending a cascade of blond to her shoulders. “I didn’t want to stay.”

Damn, he
needed
her. He settled his fingers in the edges of his pockets, afraid he would reach for her when she wasn’t ready to be touched. “I don’t blame you.”

She twisted on the water, one arm still covering her breasts. “I need to shower.

“Soph—”

“I don’t like the way things are between us,” she blurted out, toeing off her shoes and socks, holding his gaze.

“I don’t either.”

“I don’t like that we never see each other anymore.”

“I agree.”

“I miss the way things used to be.”

“You’re not telling me anything I’m not thinking.”

“You didn’t call me back,” her voice tightened as it quieted again.

He nodded with the wave of guilt. “I know.”

“You didn’t wake me up when you got home.”

“I should have.”

“You, you—” She shook her head as she pulled down her shorts and panties.

He grabbed her arm before she stepped into the shower. “I what?”

“You hurt me.” Her lips trembled as she blinked back tears.

How had he thought, even for a second, that he could let her go? “I know I did.” He stepped closer. “I’m sorry, Soph.”

“I just want—” She swiped at a tear. “I just want this sick feeling in my stomach to go away.” Another tear fell.

He dried her cheek with his thumb, kissing her temples and her forehead, wanting to soothe her. He stroked her jaw, needing her. “So let’s make it go away.”

She gripped his wrists, holding his gaze.

He touched his lips to hers. “Let’s make it go away, Soph,” he whispered against her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she responded to his kiss.

He plundered, cupping her face in his hands, consumed by her flavor he’d starved without. “God, I missed you.” He went back for more as she slid urgent palms up his arms and over his shoulders, then pulled the kerchief from his head, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“I missed you too.”

He slipped out of his flip-flops and took off his shirt and jeans.

“These too.” She tugged the boxers away.

He smiled, then expelled a long breath when she wrapped her hand around him. “Soph,” he groaned. “Soph.” He pulled her with him into the warm stream of water, kissing her neck and breasts as he trailed his fingers down her wet belly, slipping them inside of her, making her gasp as he moved in the rhythm he knew would send her over, capturing her lips once again.

She moaned into his mouth, leaning against the wall, clutching him tighter while he kept his pace steady. “Stone. Stone.” She tipped her head back, her breathing rapid, her body tensing, shuddering as her cry echoed in the small, steamy room.

He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around him as he sat on the tiled bench. Twin groans escaped them as she took him in, rocking her hips slowly. Staring into her eyes, he pushed himself deeper and wrapped his arms around her waist, lost in the pleasure they brought each other so easily. He kissed her tenderly. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“No more fighting,” she agreed, hooking her arms around the back of his neck, pressing their chests together.

He gripped her ass cheeks, moving her up and down, grinding, craving to fill her.

Whimpering, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders as she built, climaxing on a long moan, never taking her eyes from his.

He clenched his jaw, resting his forehead against her as he gripped her closer, thrusting, finally exploding with a loud groan. Breath heaving, he slid the wet hair away from her forehead, content for the first time in over a week.

“I like this,” she said quietly, stroking his cheek. “Nothing else matters when you and I are together like this.”

He took her hand, kissing her knuckles, swamped with the desire to be tender. “We can do it again.”

She smiled, grabbing the soap, washing his chest and arms. “I’ll never say no.”

He took the bar from her, sliding it over her breasts and stomach, moving to her thighs. “How about dinner first? No phones, no work—just you and me.”

She nodded, scrubbing shampoo through her hair. “I’ll never say no to that either.”

He brushed soapy hands over her back. “What are we making?”

She rinsed out the suds before adding conditioner. “There’s not much.”

“I guess we’ll make do with what we find.” He stood, setting her on her feet, and finished cleaning himself, knowing they’d solved nothing over the last several minutes. Eric still hung over their heads, but he could let it go for now. They desperately needed an easy night together.

“I want to eat and watch a movie on the couch,” she said, rinsing her hair for the second time.

“Funny how things have been off between us when we both want the same things.”

“Let’s get out and I’ll start dinner.”

“I’m going to help.” He twisted off the water, kissing her.

She nodded, smiling. “Okay.”

Half an hour later, he and Sophie lay on the couch, her head resting on his chest while he polished off the last bite of his turkey sandwich, grinning as they watched
The Heat
. He slid his hand up and down her naked stomach, stopping at the edge of her bra, making his way to the hem of her shorts as she laughed at Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy interviewing their unfortunate suspect. Chuckling, he kissed her temple, smiling when she glanced up. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer, savoring the sense of complete contentment. Laying here was perfectly right. It had been too damn long since they did this.

His cell phone rang on the coffee table, and he clenched his jaw, resenting the intrusion. He was tempted to let the call go to voicemail, but tipped the screen, glancing at the readout. Jeremiah Trombley.
Son of a bitch
.

Sophie saw the readout as well and sat up, pulling away from him. “Why is he calling here again?”

He steamed out a breath, noting her instantly tense shoulders and guarded eyes. Jeremiah had shitty timing. “Hold on.” He answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Stone. I just heard back from Eric’s attorney in regards to the letter we drafted him Wednesday. He assures me Eric doesn’t know what we’re talking about. He’s denying any involvement with beer bottles, sushi, music playing in the parking garage, and the PI.”

“Of course he is.”

“He can only send his regrets that Sophie’s having trouble.”

Fucking bastard. He bunched his hand in a fist, burning with rage. “How sweet.”

“You’re going to need to start documenting. I’ve sent off a friendly follow-up to the conversation we had a couple of minutes ago—we’ll keep a solid paper trail, but we’re going to need some proof on your end if you plan to pursue this: photos if you see the PI hanging around, calling the cops and filing reports if there are any more beer bottles or music in parking garages. If he calls, make sure to save the number and let me know right away.”

He knew the procedure. Now he needed to convince Sophie to get on board and help him stop this bullshit. “I’ll get on it. Thanks for checking in.”

“Have a good night.”

He looked at Sophie again, her frosty eyes staring at him, highly doubting it. “Thanks.” He ended the call, scratching at his head. Not even an hour’s reprieve... It was time to hash this out once and for all and move on.

“I thought we were leaving that alone.”

“
You
thought we were leaving it alone.”

She stood. “What did you do?”

“I had Jeremiah send Eric’s attorney a letter letting him know we want Eric to knock it off with the pictures and other shit.”

“When?”

“While I was waiting to board my flight to Europe.”

She crossed her arms. “You didn’t tell me.”

“You don’t seem interested in doing anything about it.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” She paced from the coffee table to the television and back. “You don’t know him the way I do. He’s just going to continue because he knows it’s bothering me—or you in this case. You should’ve talked to me first.”

“The way you talked to me about the whole thing in the first place?”

She whirled. “This is exactly why I
didn’t
.”

“I guess we both have our secrets then.” He stood, quickly losing his patience. “Goddammit, Sophie. I don’t understand this. He’s destroying us, and you’re happy to let him.”

“He’s in Maine, Stone. You and me, we’re right here.”

“
God
.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Why don’t you see it? He’s here too, ruining everything.”

“We were fine. We were watching a movie and laughing, then I found out you went behind my back.”

“Went behind your
back
?” he laughed incredulously, turning away, afraid he might punch a hole through his new wall. “Last time I checked, trust is a two-way street.” He turned, facing her again. “I’ve tried to be open with you. I’ve tried to discuss this entire situation, but you shut me down whenever I bring it up.”

“That’s because you bring it up all the time. I don’t want to keep going back. I don’t want to keep remembering and being afraid. That’s why I left.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“
Nothing
. Absolutely nothing.” Her breath heaved out, and she pressed her fingers to her lips. “What are we doing, Stone?” she trembled out as tears fell down her cheeks. “It’s been, what, half an hour? And already we’re back here.”

“Looks like it.” He grabbed his keys and flip-flops, starting toward the door, not sure what to do anymore.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“You’re going to leave?”

That was the only thing that made sense. He wasn’t going to stay here so they could rip at each other some more. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Shaking her head, she walked to the bedroom, closing herself inside.

He shut his eyes with his hand on the knob, hesitating, and walked out. What he’d done was right. Not talking to Sophie about it first wasn’t, but he didn’t regret telling Eric Winthrop to back the fuck off. He got in his Mustang and drove up Highway One, trying to banish the vision of tears on Sophie’s cheeks.

Sophie woke t0 the alarm and turned her head,
sighing as she stared at Stone’s undisturbed side of the bed. Her eyes filled, overflowing, as she brushed her hand over his pillow. He never came home last night, or at least he hadn’t by the time she drifted off at some point after three. Sitting up, sucking in a quaking breath, she wrapped her arms around her legs, staring out the window into the brilliant sunshine, unsure of what to do. Everything was falling apart.

For a little while yesterday they’d been okay. He’d made love to her in the shower, staring into her eyes the whole time, and they’d lain together, laughing on the couch the way they used to. Then Jeremiah called and they fought again. Now she was here in their bed. Alone.

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against her knees. Why wouldn’t Stone stop with the Eric stuff? Didn’t he realize the man would
never
leave her alone? They could draft up useless document after useless document and waste years trying to make him stop. Why couldn’t he understand that she needed to leave her past behind? Every time Stone brought it up, he forced her to remember the wild fear and painful beatings. She didn’t want to keep going back; she couldn’t, yet he forced her to. She’d run, risking her life for a fresh start. She wanted to move forward without having Eric thrown in her face every single day.

She wiped her eyes and glanced at the clock, realizing fifteen minutes had slipped away. With her shoulders heavy, she stepped out of bed, fixing the sheets and quilt. She didn’t want to go to work today and sit through meetings. Even the idea of seeing Abby didn’t cheer her. It was impossible to find her enthusiasm for fashion shows and jewelry making when her marriage was a mess.

Trying desperately to shrug off the depression, she selected a bold pink, thigh-length tank-dress and slipped on black heels. Earrings, a necklace, and bracelet came next before she headed to the bathroom for makeup, giving her dark under-eye circles extra attention. She swept mascara on her lashes and added blusher to her cheeks, then twisted her hair into a loose up-do, not finding the usual fascination in the transformation from sleepy Sophie to runway ready.

Murphy ran into the room, wagging his tail.

She turned, giving him a small smile as she bent down to pet him. “Moring, Murph.”

He lapped at her hand.

“Thanks. Do you want to go outside?”

He barked.

“I thought you might.” She kissed his head and righted herself. “Come on,” she said, moving down the hall to the door, opening it, gasping when she crashed into Stone standing in front of her.

He grabbed her arms, keeping her from stumbling.

She stepped back, pressing her hand to her heart, blowing out a long breath. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He stared at her from unreadable eyes, wearing the same gray shorts from last night.

She cleared her throat under his steady gaze and turned, making her way to the kitchen, grabbing the blueberries and raspberries from the freezer, the milk, yogurt, and OJ from the refrigerator, and a banana from the counter, preparing her morning smoothie as Stone set the coffee maker to work in the tense silence. She flipped on the blender and glanced over her shoulder, realizing he was looking at her.

“I uh—I’m going to—” She shook her head, turning off the blender. “I’m going to work,” she whispered, her eyes filling, her stomach a mess.

“You’re leaving already?”

Pressing her lips firm, doing her best to pull herself together, she reached into the door-less cupboard for a glass. “Yes. I have an early meeting with Lily, Abby, and the caterer, then Carolyn and I have a full day.”

“Who’s Carolyn?”

She closed her eyes, truly understanding just how bad things really were. A week ago they’d talked several times a day, even if there wasn’t much to say. Now they were so disconnected he had no idea she had an employee, and she still had no clue why he’d left for Spain for almost a week. “My assistant. I hired her while you were gone.”

“Oh.” He slid his hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m leaving again. Tomorrow. I have to go to Atlanta.”

She nibbled her lip to stop it from trembling, knowing deep down they were through. How could they come back from where they were if he was never home long enough to fix it? “Okay.”

“It’s just for a couple of days—risk assessment. Ethan called me last night. We’re all trying to lighten Jackson’s load so he doesn’t have to travel so much with the new baby here.”

She gave him a small smile. “That’s nice of you to do that.”

He pulled his coffee from under the spout and sipped in the quiet. “So, I guess I’ll see you around, probably when I get back.”

That was it? Their relationship was in tatters, and he would “see her around”? “Yeah, bye.” She took two steps and stopped. If she and Stone were finished it wasn’t going to be because she gave up. “Do you—do you think you’ll be home for dinner?”

He moved to take another sip and set his cup down. “I was going to run some errands and stuff, but I could be.”

“I can cook.”

He sighed again, holding her gaze. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

She nodded, clinging to the small glimmer of hope that maybe tonight they could get this right. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“See ya.”

~~~~

Stone sat at the bar, sipping his beer while he and Shane watched the Dodgers versus Marlins game. He should’ve been home working on the kitchen; that had been the original plan, but being there wasn’t as relaxing as it used to be. Now that Sophie was gone all the time, it was too quiet. He missed seeing her jewelry stuff all over the kitchen and hearing her voice while she chattered away on the phone with Abby or talked to Murphy. More than once he’d wished things back to the way they used to be, but that was selfish. She had a right to her dreams.

He glanced at the time, knowing he needed to be on his way. Sophie would be home within the half hour. He planned to help her throw together whatever she had in mind for dinner, hoping they had as much fun as they did slapping meat and bread together for their sandwiches last night. He clenched his jaw, remembering how everything went to shit not long after that. He’d driven around for hours after he left, dissecting their latest argument. She wanted him to give the Eric thing a rest, and he wanted her to fight for herself and their future. Maybe he was being selfish there too.

He rubbed at the tension squeezing his neck as a round of boos erupted when the Marlins scored another run. More than once she’d asked him to drop the Eric situation, but he didn’t know how. She was terrified of the fucker. He understood that—or he was trying. He would never know exactly how she felt, but he remembered the pictures on the thumb drive well enough. The same bastard who’d bruised her body was messing with her now. How was he supposed to forget that? He wasn’t the type of guy to sit back and do nothing, not when it counted. The very idea went against who he was, but he would try for Sophie. He couldn’t stand that he kept making her cry, so tonight was going to be different. Reaching in his wallet, he tossed a ten on the bar. “I’m heading out.”

“I was going to pick up a pool cue. You sure you don’t want in?”

“Sophie and I are having dinner.”

“Smart man.” Shane smiled. “A meal with a beautiful woman wins every time.”

He fist-bumped his friend. “Later.”

“Later.”

He pushed through the door and walked toward his Mustang, noticing the florist half a block down. She’d all but melted the last time he brought her flowers. He would have to grab another bouquet, maybe some wine too. She liked white. The liquor store—

He stopped dead when he spotted the white Toyota Corolla parked among the other cars. Eric’s PI sat inside, taking a picture of him. “You son of a bitch.” He started toward the vehicle with murder on his mind but stopped, remembering Sophie’s pleading to leave it alone. Gritting his teeth, swearing, he whirled around and walked back into the bar, moving to where Shane stood by the pool table. “I’m in.”

He frowned. “I thought you were having dinner with Sophie.”

His pulse pounded with the waves of anger. He couldn’t go home right now. If he did he would issue ultimatums and demand they do something. The evening would end like all the others lately. Neither he nor Sophie could take much more. “I can squeeze in a game.” Hopefully by the time he finished a round of eight ball he’d have himself under control.

“
Nice
,” Shane said as the door opened and two women walked in—Amber and one of her equally hot friends. “I told her I was going to be here. I guess she decided to show up.”

He didn’t care about Amber or the woman with her; he just wanted to knock the shit out of a few balls and go home.

“Hey, Shane. Hey, Stone. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

He grunted, not in the mood for conversation.

“This is my friend Talya.”

Talya smiled, brushing her long black hair off her shoulder as she showed off a set of straight pearly whites. “Hi.”

“How about a game?” Shane said to the ladies. “Stone and Amber, me and Talya.”

“Sure. Whatever.” He picked up a cue, rubbing chalk on the tip as his cell phone rang. He glanced at the readout, steaming out a breath through his nose. Sophie. He didn’t want to talk to her right now, not until he shored himself up.
You didn’t call me back,
echoed through his head as did her wounded violet eyes. He yanked up the phone. “Yeah.”

“Stone?”

He swallowed, gentling his voice. “Yeah. Hi. What’s up?”

“Um, I’m running a little behind. I still need to stop by the store. I was thinking of getting something for the grill, maybe steak or chicken.”

Why did it bug the hell out of him that she was going to be late when they only had tonight before he left? If he wasn’t cross-eyed pissed he wouldn’t have cared one way or the other, but he did now. “I’m down at Smitty’s with Shane. Why don’t you just come here and we’ll go out.” Being out tonight was probably a better idea anyway—staying someplace neutral.

“Oh, okay. Sure. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.” He put his phone back as Amber leaned over the pool table in her snug top and tighter jeans.

“I call solids.” She fired a hell of an opening break, sending the solid red ball into the pocket.

He raised his brow. “Nice shot.”

She smiled. “Thanks.” She leaned over again, sending the solid green ball home. “Oh, losers buy the winners a drink.” She grinned at Shane and Talya.

“I think we’re going to be buying drinks,” Shane said to his partner.

“I can get behind that.” Stone held out his knuckles, waiting for Amber’s return bump. “I had no idea you were a shark.” He gestured toward the table.

“Oh, I’m all kinds of things,” she replied, sending him a wink.

Stone smiled, concentrating on relaxing his shoulders instead of thinking about David or Eric or Sophie. Right now he wanted to kick some ass, cash in on another beer, and forget about his problems.