Fourteen
Everyone deserved a birthday party like Sophie Saunders’s, Dune thought as he leaned against the sliding glass doors that separated the kitchen from the pool deck. The day was golden. Bright and sparkling. The sky was as tropical blue as the water in the pool. The air vibrated with excitement and celebration.
He’d kept one eye on Sophie throughout the afternoon. He liked knowing where she was and what she was doing at any given time. She presently sat on the side of the pool, talking to Nicole Archer from The Jewelry Box. Sophie was animated and happy. So were all the people around her.
The crowd continued to grow as the afternoon wore on. His initial plans for her party had been intimate and low-key, but word soon spread, going viral. His friends and relatives crossed Center Street to make her day memorable. No one mentioned the century-old feud. The Cateses loved Sophie and wanted to take part in her special day.
Sophie wasn’t shy today. She was comfortable with his family. She greeted her guests with smiles and hugs. Dune frowned when Mac kissed her on the mouth. His partner pushed his buttons. He could be a prick sometimes.
He glanced at all those gathered around the pool. Many lounged on the patio furniture and a few sat in the Jacuzzi. Several couples floated on double-wide air mattresses. Jenna Cates stretched out on a floating green sea turtle.
The young boys, Randy and Chuck, jumped off the diving board. Their cannonballs sprayed like geysers. No one cared. Everyone was in swimsuits.
Soon they had so many partiers, Dune and the other men set up buffet tables around the perimeters of the pool to accommodate everyone. Food in abundance was spread out everywhere, from picnic basics to gourmet dishes.
The Cates family grilled hamburgers and hot dogs. They’d brought baked beans, macaroni and cheese, corn on the cob, a variety of salads, and three-fruit Jell-O molds. Someone had sliced an enormous watermelon into triangles.
The Saunders family’s chef contributed as well. Marisole refused to sit idle at Sophie’s party. She’d arrived with a team of servers from the Sandcastle Hotel. They carted in trays of artichoke and prosciutto, crabmeat-stuffed deviled eggs, and shrimp linguini. The team loaded platters with cold fried chicken and beef kabobs. There were at least ten desserts. That didn’t include the three-tiered birthday cake.
Sophie would send everyone home with a plate of leftovers. Mac would pack a cooler.
The scent of grilled burgers drifted over to Dune, making him hungry. Everything tasted better in the open air. He was about to help himself to the buffet when Mac James sauntered over to him.
Mac nodded toward the pool. “I see you taught Sophie how to swim,” he said. “She has her own style.”
Dune agreed. A most unique style. She’d slipped into the pool and was making waves. Her arms slapped the water and her legs kicked up a storm. His sister Shaye and her husband Trace moved out of Sophie’s way as she reached the cement side.
Her hand now on the edge, Sophie bounced up and down to get her footing, then wiped the water from her eyes. She tilted her head and tried to clear her ears. Through it all, she smiled. Dune’s heart warmed just looking at her.
Beside him, Mac twitched a grin. Dune knew what was coming. He set his back teeth. “What are you smiling about?” he asked.
Mac eyed Sophie. “You know what, big guy.”
Dune knew without a doubt. Sophie had become an important part of his life in a very short time. Somehow he felt as if he’d known her forever. That was impossible. They hadn’t crossed paths before the previous summer, but they had a strong bond nonetheless.
The two men watched as she bobbed and took a deep breath, ready to cut back across the pool. “I don’t see synchronized swimming or an Olympic gold medal in her future,” Mac said when Sophie collided with Jenna’s float. “But she swims better than Ghost.”
Dune glared at him.
“What?” Mac shrugged. “C’mon, it was a compliment.”
“She’s a beginner, but she’ll improve,” Dune said with confidence.
Every day she got stronger in the water. She wasn’t secure in the pool alone, so she called Dune when she was ready to practice. He was there for her, sitting on the side for an hour, his feet in the water, and watching her do short laps.
He was in need of exercise as well. He’d skipped volleyball practice to set up Sophie’s party. He felt the need to swim, jog . . . have sex.
Sex would be best.
He stretched out his arms and shifted his stance on the natural blue stone pool deck. The sun was brutal and the soles of his bare feet burned. Sophie had very fair skin. She needed to seek the shade.
“I hope she doesn’t get sunburned.” Mac also showed concern for her.
“She’s covered in sunscreen,” Dune told him.
“Nice use of your hands, bro.”
Dune had slathered sunblock over every exposed inch of her body. He’d taken his time spreading the lotion evenly on her skin. Even then, a few rays snuck through. Soft pink spots stained her otherwise perfect complexion. Most likely, she’d have worked up an appetite after all her swimming.
Dune caught her eye and motioned for her to get out of the pool. She held up five fingers, indicating she would take a few more minutes. He nodded his understanding. She did another lap.
“When are you going to put a ring on her finger?” asked Mac.
Dune refused to give him a direct answer. Instead he said, “The same day you get engaged to Jenna.” Sophie had once wagered that Mac and Jen would commit to each other by the end of the summer. He wondered if Sophie had an inside track on their romance.
He glanced at Jen on the green turtle float. Her eyes were closed and her lips were tipped up at the corners. She looked content. “You’ve stayed away from her today. What’s up?” Dune asked Mac.
“I’m giving her space,” Mac said easily.
“At her request?” asked Dune.
“A mutual agreement.” His partner appeared very relaxed and confident in their decision. “She needs time to think about us.”
“Us?” What the hell? When had Mac become an us?
“We worked through our issues,” Mac said. “I’ll keep my distance until after Huntington. Then we’ll discuss our future.”
“Your future?” Dune was stunned. He’d been so involved with Sophie, he’d lost track of his partner’s pursuits.
Mac’s smile was wide. “Jen and I found common ground.”
They were sleeping together, Dune thought. At least they weren’t at each other’s throats, although a fading bruise on Mac’s neck indicated there’d been biting.
“Here comes your girl,” Mac said as Sophie gripped the handrail and took the steps, climbing out of the pool.
My woman. Dune openly admired Sophie. She looked hot in her new swimsuit. It was a birthday gift from Shaye. His sister had convinced Sophie that her blue tankini was outdated. Shaye had helped her select a one-piece black racer with crisscross straps in the back. Sophie looked sleek, slick, and sexy.
Dune nudged Mac when Mac stared too long.
Mac looked back at him. “Did you see the mountain of presents in her living room?” he asked. “I shook a few boxes and peeked into several gift cards. Lady’s made a haul.”
“What did you get her?”
“I bought her a beginner’s cookbook at The Kitchen Sink,” he said. “The information is very basic. It starts out by telling the cook the difference between the stove and refrigerator.”
Dune rolled his eyes. “I think Sophie can skip the introduction.”
“The cookbook also explains how long to prepare a three-minute egg,” Mac said, enjoying his joke. “The recipes are easy. I’ve made One-Step Lasagna and Busy-Day Beef Kabobs.”
“It’s a great gift,” said Dune. He raised a brow. “Did you charge it to me?” Not that he minded. Mac always paid him back; it just took a while.
“You didn’t have an account there, so I paid cash,” Mac said. “The Kitchen Sink is a nice store. The owner is friendly and she looks like Paula Deen.”
Dune knew the store. It was one of a dozen small shops located on the street behind the boardwalk. The Cates family owned the property, but the shops were rented to outside entrepreneurs. The stores weren’t competitive with those businesses already standing.
“Hey, babe,” Mac said to Sophie when she joined them. “Are you hungry? Care to share a plate with me?”
“I’m starving,” she admitted. “But there’d be no going halves with you. I’d get one bite and you’d eat the rest.”
“You’re probably right,” he agreed. He caught sight of Marisole replenishing the shrimp linguini. “Will your chef chase me away like she did at the Sneaker Ball if I have seconds or thirds?” he asked.
Sophie patted him on the arm. “Eat until you’re full.”
Mac rubbed his hands together, then took off for the buffet.
Dune shook his head. “We’d better eat now, while there’s still food available.”
They each filled a plate, then looked around for a place to sit. Trace and Shaye were finishing up their meal at a table near the diving board. Dune and Sophie slid into their seats after they’d collected their dishes and left.
Sophie ate two bites before people stopped by to chat with them. Dune’s relatives wanted to discuss the Barefoot William museum with her. They had suggestions and sought out her opinion. Sophie listened, evaluated, and assured everyone the museum would honor William and all his family. She planned to include every Cates in her vision. His family applauded her efforts.
Dune leaned back in his chair. He recalled how he’d been the one surrounded at the Sneaker Ball and how Sophie had quietly looked on. Today their situations were reversed.
Gone was the shy, fearful Sophie. She was now the center of attention. She’d evolved into a resilient, respected woman. She had her own sense of purpose. Dune was proud of her.
“This is a good time to open your presents, Sophie,” said Shaye, returning to their table. “Everyone’s eaten. Let’s digest our food before we play games in the pool.”
Sophie nodded in agreement.
Shaye then asked Trace, Dune, and the boys to help cart Sophie’s presents out to the pool. She didn’t want the guests dripping water into the house. Dune agreed with her. They went to retrieve the gifts.
The boxes came in all shapes and sizes. The wrapping paper ranged from fancy foil to Sunday funnies. Sophie took an entire hour to unwrap her presents. She admired each gift and passed it around. She wanted each of her guests to know how much she appreciated the present.
Dune smiled along with Sophie when she opened Jenna’s gift. It was a digital frame, perfect to load up with photos of her hamsters.
Chuck and Randy had pooled their money together to buy her gift. They’d also considered Scarlett and Glinda in their purchase. They presented Sophie with a ten-dollar gift card from Pet Outfitters so she could buy food and toys for her girls.
The gifts went on and on. Dune realized that his family knew her well. Each present represented something important in her life. His second cousin Rick had bought a small, framed metal-crafted unicycle.
Nicole Archer had made a high-heeled sneaker brooch from black opals. The jewelry held precious memories of the Sneaker Ball for Sophie.
His Aunt Molly from the diner had put together a breakfast kit, including her special waffle mix. Sophie loved waffles.
Violet had selected tiny volleyball-style earrings for her. Vi claimed Sophie was a competitor now.
Sophie sighed when she opened Dune’s gift. It was a leather journal along with a slender gold ink pen. The historical family journals had guided her to where she was today. He wanted her to document her life from this point onward.
Sophie Saunders would have many memories to enter into the journal if he had anything to do with it.
Sophie was as overwhelmed as she was appreciative of the outpouring of love from the Cates family. She put her hand over her heart once she’d set aside the last gift and looked out over the crowd. Tears glistened in her eyes and she could barely express her gratitude. “I’m at a loss for words,” she began, “I don’t know how to tell—” Her voice broke before she could finish.
“Tell everyone that I gave you the best gift?” Mac finished for her.
Sophie gave Mac a small smile. “I’ll challenge you to a meat loaf cook-off someday soon.” She took a deep breath and managed to continue. “I’m so glad you’ve adopted me. You’ve given me a home away from home.” A tear escaped from her eye and traveled down her cheek. No one moved. It was a touching moment.
Dune crossed to her. He curved his arm around her shoulders and tucked her close, offering comfort.
He heard Molly, Violet, and several others clear emotion from their throats.
“Who’s ready for a game of chicken?” Mac called out, lightening the mood. He held a drumstick in his hand. “Teams consist of one guy and one girl. The girl sits on the guy’s shoulders and each team tries to unseat the competition. No poking in the face. No pulling anyone’s hair. Winners are the last two standing. I call dibs on Sophie.”
“Do you mind?” Sophie asked Dune, laying her hand on his arm.
Dune would have liked to have had her all to himself, but since she was the guest of honor, he shared her with family and friends. “Lean forward,” he told her, giving her pointers on how to play the game. “It’s all about balance.”
Mac took Sophie’s hand in his, then looked at Dune. His voice was low; his taunt meant for his partner alone. “I’ve waited a long time to have Sophie’s legs wrapped around my neck.”
Dune shook his head. What an a*shole.
He stood back and allowed them to have their fun. The first round consisted of a lot of splashing, laughing, pushing, and tugging. Dune moved closer to the side of the pool and coached Sophie.
The final three couples now battled it out. The teams included Trace and Shaye, Randy and Violet, and Mac and Sophie. Mac took on Trace and Shaye first.
Shaye had grown up with brothers and was highly competitive. She’d played chicken all her life, and was tricky and sneaky. Shaye would never let Sophie win without a fight, even on her birthday.
Sophie was having the time of her life. She slapped the water and shrieked like a young girl. It was a silly kid moment for her, yet one Sophie had never experienced. She laughed so hard she nearly fell off Mac’s shoulders.
“Don’t laugh so hard that you pee in the pool,” Mac said to her over his shoulder.
Sophie tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t. She could barely catch her breath.
“Don’t cover my eyes,” Mac told her when she clasped her hands around his head to keep her balance. She quickly released him. “We need to fight them from the front, not from the side. Roll your hips forward and concentrate, Soph. We’re going in for the kill.”
Mac played dirty. He hip-checked Trace, then stepped on his foot. Trace faltered and nearly lost his balance. Mac circled left and positioned Sophie so she could grab Shaye by the shoulders and unseat her. Shaye tumbled back and fell into the water. She came up sputtering.
“Nice move.” Shaye gave both Mac and Sophie a high five. Trace bumped their fists.
The final round of chicken came down to Sophie and Mac and Violet and Randy. Randy was a head shorter than Mac, but he had the footwork of a prizefighter. He danced around and trash-talked his opponents. Only once did Violet bop him on the head for swearing. Otherwise it was all said in fun.
Dune watched as Mac again pulled a fast one. Kid or not, Mac took advantage of Randy’s weakness. Mac backed him toward the deep end. Randy was so busy taunting and showing off, he misstepped. He tipped over and Violet flipped backward into the water.
Mac pulled Sophie from his shoulders and hugged her. “Winners!” He pumped his arm in the air.
Mac delivered Sophie to the shallow end. She climbed from the pool, shook out her hair, and stomped her feet. She stood by Dune and slipped her arm around his waist. Her happiness meant more to him than any hug she could’ve given.
“Warrior woman,” he praised her.
She flashed a smile. “We kicked ass.”
Kicked ass. She was sounding more and more like Mac.
Sophie’s guests applauded her win. The clapping soon faded when the south pool gate opened and Maya and Brandt Saunders joined the party. They were formally dressed, their expressions pained. It was obvious they’d rather be anywhere else but there.
Dune sensed Sophie’s surprise and uncertainty. She hesitantly left his side and approached her parents, looking pale beneath her sunburn. He swore he heard her knees knock together.
Trace took a step forward, only to have Shaye touch his arm in a silent request to let Sophie handle this alone. Dune wanted to stand beside her, too, but he thought better of it. He believed in Sophie. She’d manage on her own. No Cates would interfere. This was a Saunders matter. Sophie met her parents on the pool deck near the diving board. She straightened her shoulders, clasped her hands over her stomach. Her words were softly spoken. “I’m glad you came to my party,” she managed to say.
Her mother’s gaze touched on everyone there. “We’d hardly be missed if we hadn’t shown up.” Her tone was dry. “You appear to have adopted the entire Cates clan as your family.”
Sophie cleared her throat. “They came to my party when you refused,” she said.
“They came en masse,” her mother observed. “They parked their vehicles wherever they could find a spot on our private cul-de-sac. There are tire marks in our front yard where someone made a U-turn.”
“That U-turn was mine.” Mac raised his hand and confessed. “I also owe you a rosebush.”
Maya glared at Mac. “You need to be more careful, young man.”
“I’ll have Luis take a look at your yard on Monday,” Sophie said to appease her mother. “He’ll fix the damage.”
“Your mother has a right to be concerned, Sophie, but that’s not what we came for. Here is your gift,” her father said, moving things along. He withdrew an envelope from the inner pocket of his suit coat and handed it to her. “Happy Birthday, Daughter.”
No smiles, no hugs, no sign of affection, Dune noted. They were a repressed couple. The dead silence became more strained as Sophie stared at the envelope.
No black dress this year. Dune hoped her parents hadn’t gone with a gift certificate to a high-end boutique. Or worse yet, written her a check.
Slowly, her hands shaking, Sophie opened the envelope. Her face softened when she saw what was inside. “Two tickets to the Andrea Bocelli concert in Miami in the fall,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear.
“The tickets aren’t on sale yet,” her mother said. “Your father called in a favor to get them.”
Men in high places pulled strings, Dune thought. Sophie loved the opera. He was pleased that her parents had put some thought into her gift this year. Or maybe Trace was behind their initiative. Either way, Sophie was pleased. That was all that mattered.
“Thank you,” she said, clutching the tickets to her chest. She glanced toward the dessert table where Marisole and the servers were now slicing pies, cutting up the brownies, and scooping the peach cobbler onto blue plastic plates. “Would you like a piece of my birthday cake before you leave?” she offered. “It’s my favorite. Red velvet with cream cheese icing.”
Dune knew she held her breath as she waited for their answer. He was not surprised when her mother said in a condescending voice, “Sugar doesn’t sit well on an empty stomach. Besides, we’re headed to a charity event at the country club; drinks, dinner, and the silent auction.”
Her mother cast a final look around and shook her head in disgust. “Such a mess you’ve all made,” she said. “I’ll call Platinum Sparkle first thing in the morning. They work Sundays.”
A cleaning team, Dune thought. They would sanitize all Sophie’s memories and leave her nothing but the scent of bleach. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He stepped forward and said to Maya, “That won’t be necessary. We’ll clean up before we leave.”
Her mother’s smile was tight. “How nice of you.”
“We can haul garbage to the curb with the best of them,” said Mac, unfiltered.
“Have a nice evening,” Sophie wished her parents on their way. There was no reason for them to stay.
Maya flicked her wrist. “Do get back to your fun.”
Fun was all young Randy needed to hear. The kid had been quiet while the adults talked, but he couldn’t wait to get back into the pool. He stood on the diving board and bounced up and down, going higher each time.
It was a moment etched in time that no one would ever forget. Maya and Brandt turned toward the south gate at the exact moment Randy jumped off the board. He was tucked to cannonball. He landed the biggest splash of the afternoon.
Those standing on the pool deck near the deep end got soaked to the bone, including Sophie’s parents. Maya and Brandt stood as still as statues caught in a sudden rainstorm, dripping wet from head to toe.
They would have to change into dry clothes before they could attend their charity event. Maya was in need of a hairstylist. Water filled Brandt’s polished wingtips.
No one moved. Trace was the first to recover. He grabbed two towels from the cabana cabinet and approached his parents with a few mumbled words of apology. Dune could only stare. The damage was done. Trace escorted his parents out.
“Monumental,” Dune heard Mac say.
Randy got out of the pool to everyone’s stares. He freaked a little. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, worried.
“Everything’s fine,” Sophie assured him. “It’s a pool party. You’re allowed to splash.”
“Splashing is not for amateurs,” Mac said. “You’ve gone pro, kid.”
Randy looked relieved.
“Dessert, then volleyball,” Mac said, taking over the role of social director. “I hear a piece of birthday cake calling my name.”
The mayor crossed to Dune. James was in his element cooking at the grill. “Mac’s going to want more hamburgers,” he said. “I’m low on charcoal. Sophie mentioned there was another bag in the garage.”
“I’m on it,” Dune said, going for the briquettes. He was happy to keep the party going after the splashing incident. He’d never forget the shocked look on Maya’s face if he lived to be a hundred.
He walked through the kitchen and out the side door. The breezeway connected the house to the garage. Mature vines climbed the trellises and tiny pink flowers bloomed. He ducked a bumblebee. The air smelled sweet.
He found several storage areas inside the garage and opened the door to each one. Sophie kept her youthful memories packed away in closets. He found a girl’s Huffy bicycle, a dollhouse, and a few stuffed animals. One plush lion had a bright reddish mane, as if he’d been fed spaghetti.
Behind door number three, he located the bag of charcoal. He pulled out the bag and noticed a stack of sports magazines along with a canvas carrier on the floor. A sense of déjà vu made his skin prickle, as if he had to check it out. He crouched down.
It was a backpack, well-worn, and with a crooked zipper. He stared and stared, his chest giving an unfamiliar squeeze. Oddly nervous, he flexed his fingers.
He tugged on the metal tab and the zipper gave way. He lifted one of the flaps and, in that instant, he had the strangest sensation he had turned back time.
His breathing deepened as a jumble of images hit him all at once. He caught flashes of a young, brown-haired girl wearing glasses and looking panicky. She was alone and vulnerable. He saw a fallen bicycle near an elementary school. Cars passed and honked, yet no one stopped to help her. Not even the other schoolkids.
He’d gone to her rescue. He recalled parking his Harley and picking up the books scattered across the roadway. He’d fixed the zipper on her backpack so she could get home, then shielded her from the traffic as she applied one of his superhero Band-Aids to her chin.
Had that girl been Sophie?
He looked inside the backpack. Sophie Saunders, Second Grade was written in indelible ink on the inside. He ran his thumb over her name. His gut tightened as he delved deeper into her past. A dozen children’s books spilled out. An old Superman Band-Aid was folded in half. He fingered the pair of crooked eye glasses. There was a pack of number-two pencils, a 24-count box of crayons, and a wooden ruler. A green spiral notebook caught his eye. He opened it to the first page.
He saw a few math problems and an old homework assignment. Then he came to his name and his heart slowed. Dun, Dome, Doone was neatly printed near the bottom. He didn’t recall giving her his name, yet apparently he had. She hadn’t known how to spell it.
He remembered riding off with one eye in the rearview mirror. It had taken her two tries to get back on her bike. He’d hoped she would be safe. The fact that she’d kept her backpack spoke volumes to him about what had happened that day.
Her little girl’s heart had never forgotten him.
He’d wanted to protect her then as much as he did now.
He set the canvas bag aside and turned to the sports magazines. He was featured in each one. The dates catalogued every tournament from his rookie year to the day he became top seed. No one had ever followed his career so closely. Not even his parents. But Sophie had.
He pushed to his feet and let the moment fully sink in. Emotion settled heavily in his chest. His mind raced. He had several questions for her. Had she had a crush on him from the age of seven? Had she idolized him in her teens? Had she fantasized about him when she became a woman? Did she see him as the man in the magazines? Or could she see the real man behind the hype and publicity?
Only she had the answers.
Hero worship was lost on him. He didn’t want that from her. But did he have the right to ask for more, especially when his future remained uncertain? He didn’t want to fail or disappoint her. Could he live up to her expectations of him?
He rubbed the back of his neck. He felt his throat close. He needed to think things through. He wondered how long he could remain in the garage before someone came after him and the bag of briquettes. Who would miss him first?
Sophie Saunders felt Dune Cates’s absence even before she consciously realized he was gone. The day felt cooler, as if the sun had slipped behind a cloud. She looked around, not seeing him anywhere.
Her brow pleated, a shiver of worry slipping through her as she went looking for him. The mayor mentioned that Dune had gone to the garage for charcoal. She entered through the breezeway and spotted him immediately. He gave her butterflies. He was a handsome man. She took a moment to admire his bare chest and muscled legs. He looked good in his teal green board shorts. A pair of his Suncats was hooked in his waistband. The sporty sunglasses were oval with navy lenses and a flexible wire frame.
She held up a piece of birthday cake on a blue plastic plate. She smiled as she crossed to him. “I saved you a slice,” she said. “Mac’s eaten the top tier and is working his way down.”
“Thanks for thinking of me.” His voice sounded odd to Sophie’s ears.
She angled her head, puzzling over his tone. “You’re always on my mind,” she said.
“You’re on mine, too.”
Her steps faltered when she saw the open storage room door and her childhood on display. She brushed her damp hair out of her eyes and looked at him. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“James sent me for charcoal,” Dune told her. “I found your backpack under the briquettes.”
She released a sigh. “That backpack holds a lot of memories from elementary school.”
“So I see.” He hung her canvas bag on a hook on the back of the door. “Tell me about the day you fell off your bike.”
“That was the day I met you.”
“I remember now. Your backpack jarred my memory.” He looked confused. “Why didn’t you tell me that we’d met?”
She shrugged and the cake on the plate tipped. She pushed it back with her thumb. “I was embarrassed,” she confessed. “I was an impressionable young girl. You were an older boy with shaggy blond hair and Lion King eyes who rode a motorcycle. As I grew older, there were times I couldn’t see your face clearly, but I always remembered your kindness. That mattered most to me.”
She looked over at the sports magazines scattered on the floor. “I first learned your last name in Sports Illustrated. Trace had a copy on the desk in his home office. I flipped through it one day while I was waiting for him to take me to the dentist. I saw your photo and decided then and there to follow your career. I admired your strength and drive. I imagined you were a good man.”
She paused, continuing with, “I watched your tournaments on TV. You were surrounded by women after every match, yet you took time to talk to the kids, too. You’re a great role model, Dune. You challenge life, something I’ve wanted to do but never had the courage to try. This summer you supported me and my adventures. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”
“No hero worship?” His brow creased and his jaw clenched. The question appeared important to him.
She shook her head. “I know your faults.”
That took him back. “Name one?”
“You don’t pick up after yourself in the bathroom, you can’t seem to find the dishwasher, you drink the last of the sun tea without making a new batch, and you have yet to clean the hamster cage.”
“I get the picture.” He exhaled slowly, as if relieved. “I don’t want you to see me as more than I am.”
“I promise to see you as a whole lot less.”
He rolled his eyes, smiled. “Mac’s humor is rubbing off on you. Stay away from him the rest of the day.”
“Can’t,” she said. “He already picked me for his pool volleyball team.”
“You’re playing in the shallow end, right?”
“We may have to rotate sides.”
“New rules,” said Dune, bending them to her favor. “One side, ten points wins.”
“You’re bossy.”
“I’m saving you from treading water.”
She’d sink like a stone.
He took the cake plate from her then. He ate several bites and said, “I’d like to lick cream cheese icing off your nipples tonight.”
Her knees went weak.
Dune gave frosting a whole new meaning.