Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series (8 page)

Sophie nodded, remembering that Abby had gone through an ordeal of her own.

Abby clasped her hands again. “So you like the outfit?”

“I love it.” She glanced at her watch. Time had flown by. “But I should probably get home.”

“We need to bag up the rest of this stuff for you.” She gestured to the cart full of clothing.

“But this is too much. I can’t possibly take all of this. There must be a dozen outfits.”

“Probably closer to two or three. And you can mix and match all of them, so really there’s endless options.”

“Abby, I can’t—”

“Yes you can. I want you to. We give stuff away all the time. Our models grab stuff; you saw that for yourself.”

She glanced at adorable skirts, tops, slacks, jeans, and numerous shoe options, loving everything Abby had picked. There were even a few lacey bra and panty sets. “I know I’ve said this a million times. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now you can meet me at Yoshoris for lunch.”

She smiled. “Yes I can.” And she couldn’t wait. “I’m going to catch the bus so you can get home to Jerrod.”

“You’re not taking the bus. You have too much stuff. I’m driving you.”

Sophie shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense for you to drive all the way to the Palisades only to drive back down here.”

“So we’ll compromise and call a taxi.”

She almost said no, but she knew Abby would insist on taking her. “Okay. A taxi it is.”

Forty minutes later, Sophie sat in the back of the cab staring out the window, rehashing her awesome day—a party that had turned out to be fun, dozens of orders to make, and a new wardrobe, accessories, and beauty supplies. She’d been putting a few dollars away here and there to buy herself some new clothes, but now she didn’t need to.

The cab rolled up to a stop at a set of lights next to one of her favorite department stores. She nibbled her lip, remembering the coffee maker she’d seen in the flyers last night. The thing was expensive, but it was a beauty and would be perfect for Stone. She wanted to get it for him, but the money… She crunched numbers in her head, figuring she could use the cash she hadn’t spent on clothes plus the few extra dollars she hadn’t spent at the grocery store yesterday. “Excuse me. Could you please pull in here and wait for me. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s your dime, lady.” The cabbie took the right, and she hustled into the store, making a beeline for the kitchen area. She searched the shelves, huffing out a breath when she noticed the shelf empty.

“Crap,” she murmured and bent at the knees, noting the model she was looking for tucked back among one of the other brands. “
Yes
.” Grinning, she grabbed the last coffee maker in stock, wincing when she glanced at the price. This was good quality and state of the art
and
the least she could do for the man who was giving her a place to stay. Plus, it was twenty percent off, which made it worth it. She moved to the selection of coffees suggested for the machine she’d chosen, taking a variety package of pods, paid, and went back outside. “Thank you.”

“Like I said. Your dime.”

She bobbed her leg up and down, filled with excitement as the cab traveled down Highway One. She’d always loved doing this—surprising people with little gifts…or big gifts in this instance. At least, she
used
to love doing that.

Hopefully Stone would like it. They were about to find out.

She grinned, looking at the lights on in the house and Stone’s car parked in its spot as the taxi pulled into the drive. She paid the driver and wrestled her huge bags inside, moving as quietly as she could, setting everything on the card table while Stone hammered away at something in one of the other rooms.

“Stone,” she said quietly as she peeked down the hall, thrilled when he didn’t respond. She pulled the present from the box, wanting to set up everything before he realized she was home.

~~~~

Stone double-checked his measurements and sent his knife through the panel of drywall. He tapped his pencil against the sheetrock in time with AC/DC’s drummer, studying the two-by-fours he planned to cover with the piece he’d just cut. He sniffed the air, frowning when he caught a whiff of coffee. He sniffed again, figuring he was jonesing for a good cup, though he typically only craved his caffeine jolts when he first woke up.

Shaking his head, he picked up the slab of drywall and set it down just as quickly when he breathed deep again, certain the scent of fresh brew wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He pulled the buds from his ears and started down the hall, listening as the refrigerator opened and closed. “Soph?”

“In here. I’m in the kitchen.”

“What are you doing?” He glanced at his watch, wondering why the hell she was making coffee at almost seven thirty. She didn’t drink the stuff, and he only guzzled two cups in the morning. He stepped into the room. “Why are you making—”

“Surprise!” She whirled, grinning, cradling one of his ugly mugs in her hands.

He stared at the stunningly
hot
woman smiling at him. What did Abby
do
to her? Her hair was different—much shorter. And her eyes were so pretty and huge. She looked incredible.

“Do you like it?”

How could he not? Her clothes fit perfectly, showcasing her sirens body. Every inch of Sophie looked sensational. “Yeah. Definitely.”

Her smile widened as she stepped closer to him, stopping almost toe-to-toe. “I was hoping you would. I saw it in the flyers last night. I wanted you to have it.”

He frowned, unsure of what she meant, then realized she was talking about the coffee maker on the counter and steaming cup in her hands.

“It’s top of the line. It’s supposed to make some of the best brew on the market. Here.” She handed him the mug. “I know it’s getting late and you’ll never sleep, but maybe you could just try a little.”

He took the cup, holding her gaze, unable to look away from the hypnotic violet.

“Go ahead,” she encouraged.

He sipped, groaning at the intensely robust flavor of excellent beans. “Damn, that’s good.”

She snagged her glossy bottom lip between her teeth. “Really?”

He sampled again. “Really. Taste for yourself.” He held the cup to her lips.

She dutifully sampled and wrinkled her nose. “Strong.” She shuddered. “Ugh, too strong.”

He grinned. “Just the way I like it.”

“I imagine someone has to.”

He grabbed her chin, needing to touch her soft skin. “You and Abby were busy.”

She gripped his wrist as they stared in each other’s eyes. “Yes. She and a couple of her friends at Lily Brand gave me a makeover.”

“I guess they did. You look good, Soph.”

“Thanks.”

He let her go, but he didn’t want to. “Thanks for the coffee maker.”

“You’re welcome.” She took a step away, sliding her hair behind her ear with a jerky swipe. “Do—do you want dinner? It’s late but I could make something quick.”

He’d made a sandwich an hour ago, but Sophie was bound to come up with something a hell of a lot better. And he wouldn’t mind sitting next to her hearing about her makeover deal, especially if he could make her smile at him the way she had when he walked into the room. “I could eat.”

“I was thinking of beef and broccoli.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

She nodded. “Let me put away my stuff and I’ll get to it.”

He looked at the piles of clothes, cosmetics, and shoes on the table. “Jesus. Did you buy out the stores?”

She smiled. “It certainly looks that way, but no.”

“I guess I better get some closets built.” He grabbed dozens of hangers poking through garment bags. “Let’s find a place to hang this stuff in the meantime.”

She snagged a bagful of hair and makeup supplies and another bulging with shoes. “You don’t have to help.”

He glanced over his shoulder as they made their way down to her bedroom. “I do if I want beef and broccoli sometime in the next century.”

She flashed him another smile. “You do have a point.”

They stepped into her room, and he hung everything on the now sagging rope he’d strung across a couple of the posts in the makeshift space. “God, I’ll never understand why women have to have so much
stuff
.”

She crouched down, taking the pairs of shoes out one by one—sandals, high heels, and boots—and set them by his feet in neat rows. “Because it makes us look nice.”

He trailed his gaze over her pretty backside. “I guess I can’t argue with you there.” He grabbed some contraption from the makeup bag. The packaging said it was an eyelash curler. He set it down with a shake of his head. “I imagine that’s where the whole ‘beauty is pain’ thing comes in, right?”

She laughed as she looked up at him. “Yes, I imagine so.”

He offered his hand, realizing that was the first time he’d heard that light sound.

She took it, standing. “How about dinner?”

“Sounds good. I’ll help.”

“You don’t have to.”

He didn’t, but he wanted to, which was new. Cooking wasn’t his thing. He lifted her hand, studying her fancy nails. “I’ll chop stuff. We don’t want you ruining these.”

She chuckled. “My hero.”

“Come on. I’ll save the day.” He pulled her from the room, not bothering to let go of her hand along the way.

Sophie’s new phone rang, startling her out of her
concentration. She set down the navy blue bead she’d been twisting among thin ropes of delicate silver and looked at the display, expecting Eric’s name to pop up instead of Abby’s. The kneejerk dread vanished and she smiled, remembering that she never had to answer Eric’s hourly check-ins ever again.

Abby had convinced her that she could still be a part of the twenty-first century and stay anonymous with a pay-as-you-go phone, but having one made her uneasy. Eric’s PI was relentless. It was highly unlikely he would track her down via a cell phone she could easily throw away, but if anyone could, it was his man. Dismissing the troubling thought, she answered, refusing to be a prisoner to the monster she fled. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me again. Sorry to bother you.”

Abby had called twice already this afternoon. The first time was just to chat and the second to invite her to Saturday night’s monthly girls’ get-together. She loved that Abby had thought to include her. For the first time in her life, she had an actual girlfriend. During most of her childhood she’d been too obsessed with basketball to worry over close friends. In high school and college, she’d concentrated on her education and need to bead when she wasn’t busy scoring three-pointers for her team. She’d always been content to do her own thing—her crushing shyness had demanded it be so. And she’d always had her mother. Now she had Abby to talk to and hopefully the other women she desperately wanted to get to know. “You’re not bothering me.”

“Good. I actually only have a minute. I have a meeting with Lily in five, but there’s been a little change in plans. Girls’ night isn’t going to be at Lex’s after all. I talked her out of that crazy idea. Owen’s due to arrive any second. The doctor told Lex and Jackson today that if my adorable new nephew doesn’t decide to make his debut by Monday they’re going to help things along.”

“That’s exciting.” She fiddled with her chain-nose pliers as visions of a small gift for Alexa started taking shape.

“I’m pretty pumped.”

“Do we need to reschedule?” She didn’t want to be disappointed. She was trying not to be. Alexa was terribly uncomfortable, and Olivia was eagerly awaiting her new brother.

“Nah. Morgan’s hosting instead.”

She smiled. “Okay. Where does she live?”

“Just a couple miles from Ethan and Sarah. I’ll swing by and give you a ride if you want.”

This not having a car thing was becoming inconvenient. Now that she had a bit of a life, she needed to get places and not have it take an hour. She shrugged away her frustration. The bus would be her mode of transportation for a long time coming. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Is six okay?”

“Yes. I’m still trying to decide what I should bring.” She stood, walking to the cupboards, perusing the selection of baking supplies she had on hand.

“You don’t have to bring anything.”

“Yes, I do.” She loved being creative in the kitchen. Now that she didn’t have to worry about getting everything perfectly right and approved before she could shop or make it, she enjoyed cooking and baking again. Stone certainly didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re the boss.”

She grinned at the idea. She
was
the boss of her own life. The utter thrill of being her own woman, of making her own choices and being able to come and go as any other adult could and did, made her giddy. “Then it’s settled. I’ll go for something sinful and chocolaty.”

“
Now
you’re talking. Oh, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you Saturday. Oh, Lily loves the jewelry by the way. She’s wearing the necklace and earrings right now.”

“
Really
?” Lily Thomas liked her work. An actual fashion mogul was wearing something
she
made.

“I wouldn’t make it up. Okay, I really need to hang up. Bye.”

“Bye.” She ended the call on her way back to the card table, sighing, perfectly content. Rain fell in chilly sheets and the wind blew in nasty gusts, but that didn’t dampen her spirits. She was in a warm, half-finished house doing the job she loved while beef stew simmered on the stove. She picked up the wire-wrapped bead she’d set down and attached the piece to the sterling silver fishhook, mentally rearranging tomorrow’s schedule. She’d planned on a full day of work but now that she had weekend plans, she would have to finagle. She
loved
that she had to finagle.

She needed to get to the bead store for more supplies, stop off at the grocer’s for ingredients for her chocolate mousse brownies, and run by the department store to pick up a few more items on her shrinking list of things for Stone’s kitchen. She’d made a huge dent after her lunch date with Abby three days ago, but there was still more to see to, and she would get it done.

She set down the second fishhook wire, now swinging with a matching dangle, and slid up the sleeves on her stylish creamy blue cardigan. She was four days into her new, quietly sleek look and she adored every second of it. The frumpy woman who fled on a borrowed bike was gone for good; the confident, professional businesswoman, which was exactly what she intended to be, was here for the long haul. She no longer wore her hair in a bun or a hoodie to go out in public. Eric would no more recognize her dressed like this than he would if she wore a cap shoved low on her head.

She glanced at her to-do list and started tidying her ever-growing workspace, worrying a bit. Eventually she was going to have to apply for a license and deal with taxes. She had too many orders coming in to ignore her responsibilities in that regard, but the risks and complications that would come with establishing her place of business diminished her sense of peace, leaving her cold. Eric would find her, and he would come.

She shuddered out a breath, barely able to tolerate the thought. She wasn’t ready to deal with him. She couldn’t be sure she ever would be, but if she took the next step she would have to. She set her assorted pliers in the ancient cloth, rolling them up tight as she did every day, reassuring herself that waiting a while longer to deal with Uncle Sam and the state of California would be fine. Right now she was too busy to deal with the headaches anyway. Everything was happening so fast. Sarah’s mother already sold the six sets she’d scrambled to put together Sunday night and Monday morning. Janice had requested a dozen more by tomorrow to have on hand for the weekend, and Hailey had reminded her via Abby that she was very interested in hosting a party at her house at the end of the month.

Business was officially hopping, as she’d hoped it would, which meant there was no way she could keep up with the demand and clean Ethan Cooke Security. That’s why she’d stopped. Luckily when she called Cecilia Sunday evening to discuss giving up her night job, Cecilia had said she would let her go immediately. There was a woman at Stowers House desperate for the position. Sophie had happily handed off her responsibilities right then and there.

She gathered her supplies, and began stacking the Tupperware she was using to stay organized on the corner of the counter when a car pulled up in the drive. It instantly put her on alert, but she relaxed when she recognized the engine of Stone’s Mustang. She took the cloth off the rolls that had been rising for the last couple hours and slid the cookie sheet into the oven as the front door opened and closed. “Supper will be ready in about fifteen minutes,” she called.

Stone walked in, his hair and polo shirt soaked and dripping, carrying something squirming in a filthy once-white t-shirt. “Hey.”

She frowned as the something yipped. “What do you have?”

He peeled back the shirt, exposing a shaking brown and black fur ball. “I found him about two miles back on the highway. I almost hit him.”

She stepped away from the pathetic, whimpering pup as he shook in Stone’s arms. “Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know. I think he’s got a few scratches, and he’s cold. I didn’t want to leave him, so I brought him home for you.”

“For
me
?” She took another step away, thinking of her beloved Cooper. “No. Why did you do that?”

“Because I just about creamed him. I thought you could keep an eye on him while he heals up.”

Cooper’s shocked cry echoed in her head. “I don’t want him,” she said as the dog let loose another round of mournful whimpers, tugging at her heart. “I
don’t
.” She turned away, closing her eyes, fisting her hands at her sides as she saw the bat come down, smashing into the side of her dog’s head as he tried to protect her from Eric’s vicious blows. Her sweet, wonderful Cooper had flown across the room, landing with a sickening thud. She’d rushed to him, her arms swollen and bruised, the pain unbearable, holding the love of her life as he took his last breath. Cooper had been all she’d had left of her mother. She’d brought Mom the adorable, silly mutt from the pound the day before she left for college, not wanting her mother to be alone. Cooper had been the best companion, and she’d let him down in the most awful of ways. She hadn’t kept him safe.

“Fine. I’ll just bring him to the shelter.”

She whirled, glancing from the gorgeous soaking wet man to the sweet puppy with sad brown eyes. “Why—why can’t you keep him?”

“Because I work all the time, and I can’t take care of him.”

She stared at the dog, loving him already, growing angry with Stone for putting her in this position. She didn’t want to get attached to an animal she couldn’t keep. She couldn’t stay here forever. What if she had to go? But if Stone brought him to the pound, he would more than likely be euthanized.

“I’ll take him down to the pound.” Stone wrapped him back up in the filthy shirt. “Go ahead and eat without me.”

“No.” She walked to where he stood, her eyes filling with helpless tears. “Just give him to me.”

He took a step back. “You just said you don’t want him.”

“He needs a bath and a meal.” She seared Stone with a look, reaching forward, pulling the puppy and disgusting shirt out of his grip. “The rolls need to come out of the oven or they’ll burn.” She froze, realizing she’d snapped at him.

“Why are you pissed?”

“I don’t…I…” That was it? There was no slap or shove for using a disrespectful tone? She raised her chin, trying to remember that not all men hit, and Stone didn’t. It was okay to be upset and voice her frustrations. He
liked
it when she did. “For putting me in this position.” She turned and walked to the bathroom with the shivering pup.

~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Stone stepped through his front door for the second time, carrying a bag full of supplies for the puppy. He set the items on the chair and walked to the stove, lifting the lid on the simmering stew, groaning as he breathed in the scent, more than ready for a huge bowl. He was freezing his ass off and hungry with it. Sophie’s cooking would take care of the worst of both problems.

Her soft voice traveled from the bathroom as the water ran in the tub. He moved down the hall, grabbing a towel from the fresh pile of clean laundry, drying himself off several steps back from the doorway as he watched her gently scrub the malnourished, whimpering pup.

“We’re almost finished. You’re a filthy boy.”

The pup lapped at her chin.

She smiled. “We’ll warm you up with the hairdryer then get you some milk and send Stone out for your dinner.” She gave the puppy a final rinse and grabbed one of the huge, soft towels. “Out you come.”

She picked him up and snuggled him close, resting her cheek on top of his damp head as she moved to sit on the toilet. She was so pretty in her fancy, fitted jeans and sweater. He hadn’t missed that she’d worn makeup and fixed her hair every day since her makeover or the way she hummed while she cleaned or worked at the table, making her jewelry almost non-stop.

Having her here definitely didn’t suck. Hopefully her new four-legged friend would make her want to stick around for a while. If the thought had crossed his mind when he scooped the miserable puppy up off the side of the road, no one needed to know that but him. He probably hadn’t needed to resort to slightly underhanded tactics; it seemed like she was going to stay. She certainly had a full closet, and Janice was calling her daily with new orders. And he’d seen the ideas she’d been fiddling around with for the catalog she was putting together for Hailey’s party. If he had to guess, she had every intention of setting up shop right here in the LA-area, and he didn’t hate the prospect.

But who the hell
was
she? He glanced into the half-finished room she slept in, trying to remember that it didn’t matter as he eyed the backpack she kept tucked in the corner. She was settling in well enough; all of her belongings were stacked in a tidy way among the chaos of tools and sheets of drywall, but she had yet to unpack the navy blue bag. He looked back into the bathroom and walked into the bedroom as she turned on the hairdryer.

Sophie had been living in his house for almost three weeks, and he knew nothing about her. She was starting to relax around him, but she never had anything to say about herself. Typically that worked for him. For the most part he didn’t give a damn about other people, but he wanted to know something more about his roommate other than her age and birthdate. He only knew she was about to turn twenty-five on June first because he’d waited until she was too distracted to keep her guard up, then asked in his own roundabout way.

Sophie was very careful with everything she said. If she didn’t want to spill, he would find the answers on his own. He tossed a glance over his shoulder as he crouched down next to her bag, hesitating before he unzipped the surprisingly heavy backpack. She had a right to her privacy, but he had a right to know who lived in his house. Or at least saying that made his conscious feel a bit justified.

He dug into the pack, recognizing the jeans and t-shirts she’d rolled tightly, then went straight to the bottom, grabbing hold of the thick, white business envelope, whistling through his teeth as he ran his thumb over the impressive stack of bills. He spotted the
Trendy
magazine featuring Abby on the cover and brushed his knuckles against something cool and hard. He lifted the silver frame, staring at Sophie smiling next to a stunning black-haired woman—her mother, maybe—as they both hugged the golden retriever mix nestled between them.