He considered telling Sophie about his latest audition opportunity, but decided against it when she finally looked at him and said, “This place is great. You should try the calamari.”
“Not much of a seafood fan,” Mont said. “Didn’t eat a lot of it growing up in the Midwest, you know.”
“Oh,” she said. “Maybe we should’ve gone to the steakhouse. This place is much more new age.”
Mont glanced at the menu and found things like sushi rolls, California wraps, and salads with kelp and chia seeds. His stomach roared with hunger, as if it could read and wasn’t satisfied with the choices.
He suffered through ordering and the service of the appetizer. Sophie didn’t seem to have anything to say either. Gone was their usual banter, her sharp wit, and his teasing questions. Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second before flitting away.
Finally, he cleared his throat and leaned his elbows on the table. He wanted to share his life with her. All of it. No matter what. “My agent called again today. He got me another audition.”
Her eyebrows pinched together, but she quickly smoothed her emotions away. “That’s great.”
“Then why do you sound like a strangled cat?” Mont chuckled.
Sophie flashed a fake smile at the waiter as he set down a plate of fried calamari, complete with delicate shaves of parmesan cheese over the top. Mont decided that anything deep fried couldn’t be too bad.
“So when is the audition?” Sophie forked some squid onto her plate and nudged the rest toward him.
“I don’t know,” Mont said. “That’s sort of the game we play.” And it was one of the major reasons he’d left LA. He just didn’t want to play the game anymore.
Sophie nodded. “I don’t know how you live like that.”
“Like what?” Mont dripped lemon juice over his calamari and put it in his mouth. The flavor exploded against his tongue, but he found the texture to be a bit too much like pencil erasers.
“Without a schedule.”
Mont craved to see what would happen if he blew up Sophie’s schedule. “You didn’t die tonight,” he pointed out. “Even though you left some of your prep until tomorrow.”
She shivered. “Don’t remind me.”
Mont laughed, pleased when he focused on Sophie and found her admiring him. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I just…like your laugh.”
Maybe she could like more about him than that. She lifted her drink with a flirty smile, and his pulse picked up as hope—and a healthy dose of fear—soared through him. Mont didn’t know what he was doing in Redwood Bay, with his career, or with Sophie.
Only one way to find out, he thought as he slid her a sly smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Sophie fidgeted with her keys as she sat in Mont’s car. Dinner had been wonderful—well, at least after the first fifteen minutes. He’d really relaxed after telling her about yet another audition. Sophie couldn’t lie; the thought of him leaving on a moment’s notice freaked her out.
She thought she’d hidden her feelings pretty well, but Mont had a way of seeing right through her.
He gazed at her steadily, and her head swam with the nearness of him. His whole car smelled like him—cologne and freshly laundered clothes. She took a deep breath, which ignited the desire to bury her face in his chest and hang on.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, stalling. She wanted to kiss him, but Clint’s words echoed in her mind: Tourist, tourist, tourist.
Mont had freely admitted he’d come to Redwood Bay to escape his real life. This wasn’t his real life. She couldn’t forget that.
With a jolt, she realized she could be his summer fling. Half of her felt flattered, and the other half panicked. Was she fling-worthy? No way she compared to the glamorous women in LA. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through her hair—at least she’d removed it from its customary ponytail.
His warm fingers slipping between hers quieted all her thoughts. The doubts and worries remained, but they faded into the background until she couldn’t hear them anymore. She glanced at their entwined hands, following his arm up to his muscled shoulder and then his breathtaking face.
“Thanks for talking me into trying calamari,” he said, his low voice coming out in a hoarse, sexy growl.
“You liked it?” Sophie managed to get the words out. Last time he’d affected her so strongly, all she’d been able to do was nod.
“Very much.” He leaned down, but his lips bypassed hers. They pressed warmly against her cheek, his facial hair scratching just a bit. He moved slightly lower, finding the soft spot just below her jaw. A tingle started along her neck and he hadn’t even touched her there yet.
Yet, rang through her head. Oh, how she wanted him to touch her there. Everywhere.
“Do you want to come to brunch with me tomorrow?” she asked.
“Yuri’s?” he asked, drawing back to meet her gaze.
She lost herself in the depths of his eyes. Her heart skipped. “I’ll come get you. Nine-fifty?”
The smile he gave her spoke of passion and heat. Something in her tugged itself free, ready for anything he had in mind. He ducked his head and pressed his warm lips just below her ear. On her jaw. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back to give him better access to her neck.
But he retreated when his phone rang. He checked it and said, “It’s my agent. Do you mind?”
A crash of disappointment caught in her throat. “No, go ahead.” He answered as she got out of the car.
Her limbs buzzed as she hurried to her own car and started the ignition. She followed Mont for several blocks, before turning onto her street while he continued down the highway.
“What are you doing?” she moaned, glancing into her own eyes in the rearview mirror. Fear, desire, and confusion stared back at her.
At least Clint had found his airline voucher and left earlier that evening. She didn’t ask him where he was going, and he didn’t volunteer any information.
She shouldn’t have blocked his number. Then she’d have gotten his messages and been able to mail the voucher back. She wouldn’t have had to see him in the flesh, only for him to say hurtful words that rang true. Just like he had so many times before.
Sophie didn’t miss Clint. She simply missed being with another person after an eternal day of cooking. She longed to have a conversation—or not, if there was nothing to say. She wanted someone to welcome her home with a glass of wine and a hug. At least that’s what she told herself. As if anyone would do. But she knew she imagined Mont waiting for her to come home. Mont that she wished had ignored his phone and taken his kisses one step further.
Sophie entered her empty, dark house, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and fell exhausted into bed.
Sophie pulled in behind the whole foods grocer at nine forty-five the next morning. She’d slept poorly, especially after texting Yuri and telling her to expect two more for brunch.
She wanted to call Polly, but her cousin hadn’t set foot on land yet. Lucy had called that morning, but Sophie had avoided her.
My date was fun, Lucy texted when Sophie wouldn’t pick up. What about you and Mont?
Fun, Sophie messaged, though she wished she could’ve said, Hot. Lots of kissing. The man is perfect.
Though he did need to turn off his phone once in a while.
Just fun? Lucy asked, but Sophie hadn’t answered. She watched Mont’s door as the minutes ticked by. She grudgingly admitted she wanted more than fun.
As soon as the clock clicked to nine-fifty, she got out of her car. Mont’s door opened before she could knock, and she drank in the sight of him dressed in a pair of faded Levis and an orange and navy striped polo. He smelled like his cologne and fresh air, and a blast of coffee also met her nose.
She couldn’t stop the smile as it spread across her face, nor the heat cascading through her body. She’d wanted his lips on hers so badly last night.
“Morning,” he said, st
epping close to her and drawing her into a light embrace. “You ready?”
No, she was not. She suddenly regretted not answering Lucy’s call. Maybe she’d have been able to get some advice on what to do about her rapidly falling feelings for Mont. She turned toward the car, glad when his fingers slipped between hers and squeezed, and thrilled when he opened her door before joining her in the car.
His phone buzzed, and he checked it. “It’s my mom,” he said, swiping to ignore the call.
Sophie’s eyebrows rose. “You ignore your mom on a Sunday morning, but answer your agent on Saturday night?” She hadn’t meant to be accusatory, but when he looked at her with surprise, she realized how she sounded.
“I’m avoiding her for a few days,” he said. “That’s all. I’ll call her by Wednesday.”
“Why are you avoiding her?” Sophie pulled onto the road and aimed her car toward Yuri’s.
“I sent her a bunch of money, and she’ll want to return it.”
Sophie wasn’t sure why she was so surprised, only that he’d never mentioned anything about his parents needing money before. Admiration spread through her at his generosity, his willingness to help his parents.
She pulled into Yuri’s, her insides thrumming with nerves, especially when Mont offered her his hand. She took it, appreciating that he gave her a choice.
They made their way around the back of the house and climbed the steps to the deck, where the brunch was already in full swing. Her throat closed; this was a bad idea. Showing up hand in hand with Mont. Subjecting him to Yuri and Melissa and their she-claws.
Mont squeezed her hand, his eyes holding a question. She nodded slightly and painted a smile on her lips.
Introductions were made again, and the couples sat down to eat. The conversation was light, easy, and Sophie relaxed. But she didn’t trust Melissa not to say anything, and she wondered why she’d chosen to attend this brunch. She could’ve gone out with Mont alone, or asked Lucy and Blaine to double. Or waited until Polly returned with her new catch.
She was bored by the conversation of kitchen remodels and pregnancy stories. And if she was, one look at Mont confirmed that he was about to grab a knife and stab the nearest person.
“Let me,” she said as Yuri stood to clear the table. Mont practically tripped over himself in his haste to help. Together, they gathered the plates and escaped the deck.
She almost threw the plates in the kitchen sink, sagging against it in relief. A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “I am so sorry,” she started. “This is torture, isn’t it?”
Mont joined her at the sink, his dishes clattering against hers. “The worst kind.” He peered down at her, employing those superhero powers again. “I just don’t see you with these guys,” he said. “Lucy’s much more your type.”
She began washing the dishes, not sure how to answer. Finally, she said, “They’ve outgrown me. Moved on.”
Mont stepped away from her, giving her space to breathe, to think. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Your friends are yours. You just…shut down around these women in a way I’ve never seen you do with anyone else.”
She gazed out the window where Melissa and Yuri sat with their husbands, their conversation continuing despite her absence. She kept washing, the motion soothing.
She didn’t want to talk about Yuri and Melissa and their broken friendship. Her thoughts wandered to Mont and what he did in the hours he wasn’t working the taco stand. He ran, but that couldn’t take much time. How many sit-ups could a person do before they needed a break?
“So what do you do all day?” she asked as she finished the plates.
He paused. “You talk while you work?”
“Don’t start with me.” But the smile on her face belied the warning in her tone.
“It’s just you’ve never engaged in much conversation whilst working.”
“Whilst?” She swiped the sponge through the fruit bowls. “Who talks like that?”
“Viktor Romanoff. I’ve been studying for the James Bond audition.” He stepped back to the counter and found a towel to dry the dishes.
Sophie put a sudsy bowl in his side of the sink and turned on the water. “So you study your audition materials all day.”
“Sometimes.” Mont flashed her a sexy smile that brought heat to her cheeks. She focused on the silverware, fantasizing about what he did when he wasn’t memorizing character profiles and reciting lines.
He sidled up behind her, pressing closer than he ever had, the length of his leg flush against hers. She sucked in a breath, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him.
“Sometimes I try new balloon techniques.” He said it like making balloon unicorns was a scandalous thing to do. With his large, warm and capable hands, maybe it was.
“Mmm,” she said, cocking her hip so it pushed further into his thigh. He moved away and she took a long drag of air as her stomach burned with desire.
They finished drying the dishes, his presence so near hers she thought she might snap. The back door creaked open, and she dropped her towel. “Thanks for brunch, Yuri.” She gave her friend a hug, feeling more distant from her than ever. “But Mont and I really need to go.”
Once in the car, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. Mont reached over and took her hand in his. He said nothing as she delivered him back to his studio, but she was desperate not to leave things unfinished between them.
“The lighthouse will be on tonight,” she blurted.
He glanced at her, his eyebrows raised. “OK.”
“I just thought….” Sophie twisted a lock of her hair. “After work tonight, we could walk around it. Maybe you could tell me why you felt like it called you here.”
His phone rang, and Mont checked it. “Give me a second.” He stepped out of the car to take the call, and Sophie resisted the urge to follow him and eavesdrop. Or take his blasted phone and throw it in the ocean. Or just admire him from the back as he paced away from her.
“I’m sorry,” Mont said, leaning into her window. He still held the phone to his ear. “It’s my agent. I’ll call you later.” He brought the bottom of the phone closer to his mouth. “No, I’m still here.” He smiled and lifted his hand in a good-bye, but straightened before she could respond.
Sophie mentally beat herself on the way home. Of course they wouldn’t be dining together every night. Nobody needed that much balance. But a conversation about the lighthouse was free. Walking along the beach cost him nothing but time.
Time he didn’t have to spend with her, because he wasn’t in Redwood Bay to settle down.
She sighed as she pulled into the parking lot near her stand, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. She succeeded in texting Polly to find out if she was back on land yet, but she got no response.
Sophie picked up her knife to begin chopping onions, her mood darkening. Within a half hour she’d concluded that maybe Mont would stay in town when summer ended. He might not get any of the roles he was auditioning for.
“But summer’s almost over,” she whispered to herself, a sense of sadness filling her. And he could just as easily land one of the roles, leave town and never come back.
The thought made her go through the motions of her prep, her eyes unseeing. After all, she had nothing but time in Redwood Bay, but he was operating on borrowed days.
Chapter Sixteen
Mont had a hard time interpreting the signals Sophie projected. It seemed like she couldn’t stand to look at him sometimes, yet at others she asked questions about his life like she was truly interested. And he’d be lying if that hip thrust in Yuri’s kitchen hadn’t switched him all the way to high.
But Lars had terrible—or impeccable?—timing, and Mont hadn’t confirmed he’d go to the lighthouse with her after their shift that evening. He wasn’t playing games with Sophie; he just didn’t quite know how to handle her.
She made him nervous, what with the way she checked her watch every time he arrived for work. But at other times, she was easy
to be around, easy to flirt with, easy to get flustered. He’d been able to read her at brunch—she didn’t like those women. He hoped he hadn’t pushed her away with his assessment of her friends.
“At least my acting lessons have paid off,” he muttered as he tied another blue balloon. He hadn’t been able to find a blue whale on the how-to videos, so he’d decided to make the tutorial himself. As a result, two dozen popped or misshapen balloons littered his studio apartment.
He would never tell Sophie he spent a couple hours reading the world news each morning. Or that he ate the same breakfast every day. Or that he scoured YouTube for balloon-making ideas. Anything he found lacking, he noted so he could fill the gap.
None of those conveyed a hot, successful man who could take care of her, provide for her.
Besides, if he told her about the balloon videos, she might learn his real name, and then he’d have to leave town. He loved his parents; the amount of money he sent them proved that. He just wasn’t interested in going back to Kansas—ever—and he didn’t want his real name associated with his acting. Ever. When he left Kansas, he’d left that life, that poverty, that name, behind.
He’d never planned to stay in Redwood Bay, but with each passing day, the small town grew on him. Everyone was nice, accommodating, welcoming. He liked the whole foods store, where the clerk knew him and said good morning. He loved the small-town diner, where he could observe the people and get “the look” from Lucy. He adored the beach, where he spent a few hours each day perfecting his tan. And there was nothing better than the soothing lighthouse.
Except for maybe Sophie.
Yes, he could admit he liked it all, Sophie Newton included.
He frowned as he tried to wrap four balloons together to make the whale’s tail. For the first time, they all cooperated, and the ends fanned out in a near-perfect whale tail. With a few adjustments, Mont stepped back and analyzed his work.