“Not bad for three hours,” he said to the empty apartment. But his right shoulder disagreed. It ached like he’d been holding a weight straight up. He massaged the muscle with his left hand, wondering if he could recreate the whale before time came to head over to the beach.
Sophie hadn’t texted or called about the lighthouse. With a start, Mont realized he had made a terrible mistake. He shouldn’t have answered his agent’s phone call while they were in the car, after dinner last night. He’d been in the middle of kissing her, gradually working his way toward her mouth.
Do you mind if I take this call?
Of course she minded!
…And he’d done it again this morning.
Idiot, he chastised himself, wondering when it had gotten so difficult to understand women. No, not just any woman. Only Sophie. If the LA women were interested, you knew it. But Sophie…she wasn’t like them, and Mont liked that a lot.
In order to make amends, he sent her a text. I’m in for the lighthouse tonight. Does your offer still stand?
When she didn’t answer right away, he decided to save the filming and splicing of video clips until later. Mont cleaned up the mess from the balloons and left the studio. The sunshine instantly raised his spirits, and when he got in his car, he let himself drive without thought.
He ended up at the lighthouse, as he often had over the past few months. He’d toured it three times already, so he simply sat on a bench and looked at the spotlight that had beckoned to him.
He needed a giant beam to guide him in his life right now. Which role should he study the most? Should he go back to school and finish his law degree? Continue trying to land a lead role in an action film? And if so, for how long?
What should he do about Sophie?
The lighthouse didn’t have any answers, but it kept him from falling into a spiral of negative self-deprecation. Sitting outside the lighthouse, with the ocean roaring just a few feet away, Mont realized he’d been happier in the two-and-a-half months he’d been in Redwood Bay than he’d been in LA in, well, in a long time.
I still don’t want to give up on my acting career, he thought. His dad might have been too proud to admit he needed help, but Mont’s mother wasn’t. She kept Mont up-to-date on the treatments his dad needed, the cost of the medications, and the dwindling retirement fund. With just a single lead role, Mont could erase all those worries for his parents.
Of course, if he got a steady job, he could accomplish the same thing. Corporate lawyers made bank. He could send thousands home to make his father as comfortable as possible.
But settling into one character for his entire life made him shudder. He wanted to be a lawyer, and a baseball player, and a cowboy. He wanted to experience everything, and he distinctly remembered the night in college when he’d realized he did not want to be a lawyer permanently.
He’d been studying corporate finance, and he was so bored. At that moment, he’d decided he wouldn’t be contained to becoming one thing. By the next week, he’d withdrawn from all his classes, packed his room, and driven halfway to LA before he called his mom.
As the time neared for him to join Sophie at her taco stand, he decided that he’d play things by ear with her. Just like he’d been doing with his life for the past couple of months. He didn’t have to decide anything right now. He just needed to watch for any opportunities and take advantage of them if he could.
“We’re done,” Sophie announced within seconds of handing out the last order he’d put up. Dozens of people still lingered on the beach; surely she could serve several more.
“Good,” he said instead of asking about her schedule. “If I had to watch one more order of fish tacos go out the window, I might have knocked you down to get them.” He closed the window while she cleaned the service line. He balanced the books; she called in tomorrow’s food order. When she didn’t get out her cutting board, he raised his eyebrows.
“You’re not going to prep for tomorrow?”
She shrugged, that kiss of pink coming into her cheeks. His own temperature rose. “I decided I like doing it in the morning.”
Mont laughed. “Well, wonders never cease.”
She spared him a withering glare that said kiss me more than shut up. “I’m capable of change.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
She huffed. “You just act like I’m not.”
He bumped her with his hip. “You never answered my text. Lighthouse tonight?”
“You’re not too busy with your big-shot agent?”
So she was upset about it.
“Maybe.” Mont withdrew his phone from his pocket and checked it. “Or maybe not.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Well, if he calls, I know the pecking order.”
“It’s not like that,” Mont said, frowning that he’d screwed up without even knowing it. “But he never calls after hours, and—”
“Yes, he does,” Sophie interrupted. “He’s called you on weekends and everything.”
Mont hadn’t realized she’d been paying so much attention. He shoved his phone deeper into his pocket. “I won’t answer if he calls. Which he won’t. Honestly, he hardly ever does.”
She stepped past him, a suspicious look in her eye, then waited until he joined her on the sand before locking up the taco stand. “I’ll drive,” she said.
Mont didn’t argue, half wanting to walk to the lighthouse but knowing it was nearly impossible from here. The boat harbor made it hard to get there without walking all the way around.
“Have you toured the lighthouse?”
“Yes,” Mont said. “Several times.”
Sophie tossed him a curious look. “What is it about the lighthouse that intrigues you?” She unlocked the car and got in, leaving Mont a few seconds to find the answer.
“I don’t know,” he said after he slid into the passenger seat. “When I was a kid, I used to lie in the cornfields and watch the moon move across the sky. There was just something about it. It felt magical almost. Enchanted.”
She drove to the lighthouse, which sent a high-powered beam sweeping in a three-hundred-sixty degree arc. She stayed in the car, so Mont did too.
“My dad’s dying,” Mont whispered, almost like he hadn’t put those words together in that order before. Maybe he hadn’t. He looked at Sophie, and all his acting training disappeared. The worry and fear he normally kept contained seemed to stream from him. He knew Sophie saw it, because he could practically see himself reflected in her wide, frightened eyes.
Mont focused on the spotlight, gaining some strength from the way it never quit, never dimmed. “That’s why I’m trying to make it as an actor. My parents have gone through their savings and most of the money they made from the sale of the farm. I want to help them.”
Sophie’s fingers landed on his forearm, further anchoring him. “I’m so sorry.”
Mont shook his head, slightly upset with himself for telling her, but relieved at the same time. He wanted to share his life with her, the easy things and the hard things. “It’s fine. He’s not dead yet.” He exhaled heavily. “And I have three promising auditions coming up.”
Sophie let him absorb the silence between them for a few minutes, something he appreciated. Just when he felt like he was ready to move on, his phone buzzed. He reached for it automatically, forgetting about his promise not to answer until Sophie cut him a look.
But it was Lars. “Two minutes,” he said. “I promise. Don’t drive off and leave me here.” He stepped out of the car as he answered the call. He kept one leg on the floor of the car and didn’t close the door so she couldn’t abandon him, something he wouldn’t put past her at this point.
“Lars,” he said. “I have two minutes.”
“I only need one. The audition for the journalist is Friday. That means you need to be on plane for Rio de Janeiro tomorrow. You have your passport?”
Mont’s heart stumbled. He couldn’t go to Brazil tomorrow. As much as he’d enjoy Sophie’s me
ltdown, he couldn’t leave her without twenty-four hours notice.
“Yes, but—”
“Great,” Lars said. “There’s an eight-forty out of Del Norte, and you can catch a connecting flight from LA to Rio de Janeiro. Audition on Friday at ten a.m.”
Mont leaned against the sedan, meeting Sophie’s questioning gaze as she exited the car and stood on the driver’s side. “I can’t leave tomorrow,” he said. Sophie’s eyes widened, the anger blooming across her face as she jerked her attention to the lighthouse.
“Of course you can,” Lars said. “I know this isn’t the best choice of the auditions, but—”
Mont didn’t look away from Sophie. A muscle jumped in her jaw, and that delicious blush rose in her cheeks.
“Lars,” Mont said in a louder voice. “I’m not going. I have things here I can’t leave.”
Sophie slid her eyes back to his. Those gorgeous, thundercloud eyes.
Lars started to argue, but Mont said, “My time is up, Lars. I’ll call you tomorrow and try to explain.” He hung up on his agent, certain he may have blown everything. And for what? A taco stand in Redwood Bay? A beautiful woman he barely knew?
“That newest audition I told you about? It’s on Friday,” he started, turning toward the ocean. “In Brazil. I said no.”
Her breathing, sharp and irregular, filled his ears as she stepped to his side. “What? Why-why did you say no?”
“Wasn’t the best part for me,” he said. “And it’s a long way to travel for something I won’t get anyway.” The familiar bitterness, coated with hope, rose within Mont.
“You don’t know you wouldn’t have gotten it.”
Mont shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I wasn’t feeling the part.” He spoke the truth, but certainly not all of it. He didn’t want to leave Sophie without warning. Maybe he didn’t want to leave her at all.
And that scared him more than never landing a leading role.
Chapter Seventeen
Sophie stood in the near darkness, trying to figure out what had just happened. He’d told his agent no. He’d hung up on him. Mont wasn’t going to Brazil to audition for a role that could potentially jumpstart his career.
Why?
Sophie didn’t quite buy the explanation he’d given. “I can’t believe you just said no,” she said. “I mean, Brazil. Would you have had to pay to get down there?”
“My agency would’ve paid for it,” he said. “But they’d reimburse themselves if I got the job. Which is another reason not to go. I wouldn’t have gotten it, and they would’ve paid to fly me to Rio de Janeiro for nothing.”
Sophie didn’t know what to do with the edge that had formed in his voice. She wanted to erase it, and she fumbled her hand over his until they aligned. “Mont—” Her throat closed, eliminating the ability to speak. She hoped he hadn’t said no because of her, but at the same time, she desperately wanted to be the reason.
He looked down at her, and she didn’t think. She rose onto her toes, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his. At first, his mouth was as hard as the rest of his body. But after only a moment, his lips softened, opening to receive hers.
His hand slipped from hers, and both of his strong arms wrapped around her. Fire burned in her stomach the longer he kissed her, his mouth moving with the slow precision of a man who knew how to make a good kiss into an unforgettable memory.
When her mind caught up to the situation, she pulled back. Her heart suddenly started beating again, the rhythm erratic and furious. She didn’t move out of his arms, and he didn’t move at all.
“OK,” he whispered, and that snapped Sophie back to reality. The blinding beam of the spotlight washed over them, still standing in each other’s arms, once, twice, three times. Sophie didn’t even know when she’d put her hands on Mont’s broad shoulders, but they fit there.
By the time the beam came around a fourth time, Sophie had realized what she’d done. “Sorry,” she said, practically tripping over her own feet as she retreated. “I-I don’t know what that was.”
Mont wouldn’t look away from her, but she refused to meet his eye. Unable to stand there with him, she strode toward the sidewalk that led around the lighthouse.
Behind her, she heard him say, “That rocked my world.”
She couldn’t disagree, and a small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
Sophie woke in the morning with the smell of Mont in her nose, the pressure of his mouth against hers, the weight of his hands holding onto her waist. She’d relived the kiss at least fifty times.
Every time, she’d tried to figure out why she’d done it. She’d had no good explanation other than that she’d been so grateful he hadn’t abandoned her to fly to Brazil.
That’s all it was, she told herself. Insanity brought on by…gratitude.
But, oh, she couldn’t get that kiss out of her head. Twenty minutes later, Sophie had managed to get dressed and pull her hair into a ponytail. Right on time, Mont knocked on her door, his laptop in tow. “Morning,” he said, flashing a sexy smile and stepping past her into her living room. She noted he was careful not to touch her.
“Coffee?” she asked. “Well, I don’t actually have coffee.” She’d gotten rid of the stuff when Clint left. She bustled into the kitchen, nervous to have Mont here, in her house, even though they’d agreed last night, post-kiss, that he’d come over to help her look for her brother.
“I’m fine,” Mont said, joining her in the kitchen. “Can I connect to your Wi-Fi?”
“Sure.” She gave him the password and watched him get set up. He seemed so calm, so put together. Her insides whirred like someone had forced her to swallow an electric mixer. It spun and spun, knotting her stomach.
He sat at the bar, typing and clicking. She settled next to him, keeping a safe distance. He typed her brother’s name into different websites, but he couldn’t seem to find anything.
“Do you have siblings?” she asked.
“No,” he said, glancing at her. “My parents wanted more kids, but it wasn’t in the cards. My mom had several miscarriages.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sophie cursed herself for always asking questions that had answers she needed to apologize for. Mont had an affinity for comedy, but she was learning he’d had a somewhat tragic past.
She wondered how many women colored that past, and her face heated. She knew of one: Amber. But she knew better than to bring her up.
“It turned out all right,” he said. “We didn’t have much money and it would’ve been worse with more mouths to feed.”
Finally, Sophie felt like they were on common ground. “I understand that.”
He glanced at her, but quickly refocused on the computer screen. “What did your dad do?”
“He worked in construction,” Sophie said. “He built fishing boats.”
Mont nodded. “Seems to be a lot of need for that here.”
“Yeah,” Sophie agreed. “But he—” She cleared her throat. “He drank a lot, and sometimes he didn’t always finish his orders on time. So he didn’t always have work.” She tried to keep her voice nonchalant. She mostly succeeded.
But Mont heard everything. Just like he could see through her façades, he had a superhero sense of hearing.
Mont clicked here and there. Gently, he placed his hand on her thigh. “He ever hurt you?”
“No,” Sophie said, thrilling at the warmth from Mont’s touch. Her father had reserved the bulk of his anger for Jared, who wasn’t interested in fishing or building boats. When he finally couldn’t take their dad’s negativity and insults anymore, Jared left, never returning to Redwood Bay.
Sophie had tried to be the bridge between them, spending time at the warehouse and out on the ocean with her dad. But it hadn’t seemed to make a difference.
Mont removed his hand to adjust something on the laptop. Sophie wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold without his touch. “My cousin Tripp took over the construction business, made it into something succes
sful. He takes tourists out on the ocean. Just started a fishing company as well.” Sophie spoke with pride for all Tripp had accomplished from the sawdust of her father’s failed business. “My mom moved to Medford.”
“And you stayed here.”
“I stayed here,” Sophie confirmed. For the first time, maybe ever, she wondered if she could have a life outside Redwood Bay. She hadn’t been ready to take that step with Clint, but maybe with Mont….
The mixer in her guts switched to high, scrambling Sophie’s thoughts. They’d kissed once. He wasn’t going to propose or anything.
Ten minutes later, Mont closed his laptop with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t find anything. I’ll call a friend of mine in LA. He can find anything on anyone.”
“Sounds illegal,” Sophie said.
“I’m sure it is,” Mont said. “But he helped me change my name, and well, we go way back.”
“So if I Google Montgomery Winters and Oskaloosa, I won’t find anything, right?”
“Right.” The look Mont gave her seemed almost challenging. “You eat breakfast yet?”
“I don’t eat breakfast.”
“Ever?” He picked up his laptop and took a few steps toward the door.
“I’m usually picking up my seafood order for the day. Plus, I eat dinner pretty late.”
Mont jerked his head toward the front door. “Well, I eat breakfast every day. Want to tag along?”
Sophie did, but she hesitated. In that breath of time, Mont’s phone rang. He checked it, his face falling slightly. “It’s my mom,” he said. “I have to take it today. Sorry.” He flashed her a quick smile before stepping outside to answer the call.
A sigh of relief hissed from Sophie. He hadn’t seemed weird. Didn’t bring up the kiss. Nothing.
Just then, her door swung in again. Mont said, “Hold on a sec, Mom.” He moved toward Sophie, who seemed rooted to the spot. He stopped in front of her, leaned down, and brushed his lips against her cheek, asking permission. She reached for him, and he gave her a proper kiss, his mouth warm and tender. He kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her, until Sophie felt sure hours had gone by.