Sophie looked him over and had to admit he looked darned good to her. “I think you can hold your own with the older set.” She hoped her jokes covered her nervousness and insecurity, because the suit and sarong covered very little.
He strode up beside her, his body heat overpowering, his scent arousing. “The question is, can I hold my own with you?” he asked, his breath warm and minty against her cheek.
Sophie drew on every last bit of courage she possessed. “I’d like to see you try.”
His eyes darkened as he took in the challenge she’d tossed his way. “Baby, I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
She swallowed hard, but looked up with steely resolve. “I do.” Because once Sophie made up her mind about something-or someone-she stuck with her decisions and she never looked back.
For years she’d been drawn to a man she thought was a flirt and a playboy, a jock and a rebel. In the past couple of hours, she’d learned that he’d been ignored by his biological father and survived the pain. That he had a daughter and a heart.
She’d already been so far gone by the time she’d walked off the plane, that at this point, she knew more than enough about him to allow herself to indulge in an affair. She knew more than enough to know she was in big, big trouble. But despite her normal caution, she was past caring.
She held on to that thought and to Riley’s big, warm hand as they walked toward the pool area. She was well aware of what would happen when they returned to the house later, but for now they shared more than just mutual desire.
They shared the need to find his father.
AS SOPHIE AND RILEY passed through the gate leading to the pool, torches lit their way and music floated through the balmy air. Limbo music. The sound brought Sophie back to her youth and the birthday parties Uncle Yank and Lola had thrown for her as a child.
“I’m not surprised Darla and company have planned some games,” Sophie said, laughing.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“You sound surprised.” She turned his way.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I shouldn’t be? I’d have bet you’d be-”
“Too uptight to let loose and have fun?” she asked, knowing exactly what he thought of her. She had to admit she hadn’t given him much reason to think otherwise.
“Your free spirit is something I definitely want to see firsthand.” He winked and kept walking.
A free spirit, she was not. She glanced down at her string bikini and acknowledged that tonight she was not the same woman from their flight down. She couldn’t afford to be if she wanted this time with Riley. But the fact that Riley made her want to shed some of her inhibitions was yet another reason to fear whatever was happening between them.
She glanced over the crowded pool, admiring the way the older crowd was enjoying life. “Let’s just say that when I’m eligible for a senior-citizen discount, I hope that I’m as happy with life as Darla seems to be,” she said as she rushed to keep pace with Riley.
“Fair enough,” he said.
As they reached the pool, the party was in full swing. Chubby Checker’s “Limbo Rock” blasted on loudspeakers while the guests mingled. Older men with bald heads or graying hair danced around the pool deck, grabbing any willing partner while the braver ones ducked beneath the limbo stick.
But what really made the party guests stand out was their attire or lack of it. The women displayed their assets in bikinis reminiscent of the movie Calendar Girls and their male counterparts wore Speedos in varying colors.
Riley shuddered. “I may never have a good night’s sleep again.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I know what you mean.” She’d much prefer Riley in his swim trunks to the tight Speedos. Who was she kidding? She’d prefer Riley out of his bathing suit, a wish that might come true later tonight. Her mouth grew dry with anticipation.
“Well, at least nobody here is one of your relatives,” he muttered.
Sophie paused, realizing that what for her was an amusing way to pass time until she found Spencer, was a life-changing event for Riley. She didn’t know anything about how he’d grown up or what the parents who had raised him were like, but he obviously wasn’t comfortable with the idea that this wild geriatric set comprised his family and their friends.
Unfortunately for her, she wanted to understand and help him deal with whatever emotions were eating away at him. “Riley-” She reached out and touched his arm. Warmth tingled straight to her toes. “These people are no reflection on you.”
He turned and stared at the place where her hand had made contact with his skin. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine,” he bit out.
She heard the rebuke, swallowed hard and removed her hand.
Instead of walking away in search of his father as she’d expected, he immediately grabbed her hand and laced his fingers inside hers. His thumb caressed the center of her palm and the massaging sensation was oddly erotic, definitely a way to tease and send her pulse rate soaring.
She heard his silent apology for snapping at her and she understood how deeply Spencer’s abandonment had hurt him. She wished she could ease his pain as much as she wished her heart wasn’t already engaged with this man.
“Do you see Spencer?” He surveyed the crowded pool area.
“To find Spencer I’d have to mix with the crowd, and frankly I’d rather not look at anyone that closely,” she said, deliberately changing the subject.
He chuckled, relaxing a bit. Her hand still in his, he pulled her toward the center of activity, the makeshift bar on the side of the pool.
“I’m so glad you two made it.” Darla greeted them with a frozen drink in her hand. She bent to take a sip but, instead of the straw, her lips hit the umbrella and she giggled like a young girl. She was dressed like one, too. “Piña colada anyone?” Darla asked.
“No thanks,” Sophie said.
“Margarita? Daiquiri? Tom Collins?” She offered the drinks, trailing off with a loud hiccup.
“No, thank you. Darla, have you heard from Spencer?” Sophie asked, undeterred.
“Well, if you two aren’t having a drink, that doesn’t mean I can’t have another. Rose is tending bar. Come meet my sister. Oh, Rose!” Darla called in her high-pitched voice.
Sophie shot Riley a glance. Darla was avoiding the subject and Sophie would bet she knew exactly where her brother was.
“Rose, this is Sophie Jordan and Riley.” She didn’t use his last name and Rose didn’t ask for it.
Sophie tried not to wince. Instead she glanced behind the bar where a bleached-platinum-blonde blended drinks, an oversize floppy straw hat on her head.
Sophie leaned closer to Riley. “Were you hoping for normal?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I’ve accepted that in this family, there is no such thing.”
This family, not my family, Sophie thought. Well, if they were her long-lost relatives, she couldn’t say how she would react. “I take it your mother and stepfather aren’t-”
“Oddballs? No. They’re as conservative as they come. Mom’s a member of the Daughters of the Confederacy and my father’s a personal friend of Rush Limbaugh. Enough said?”
She nodded and tried to absorb the opposite worlds that surrounded him now.
“So good to meet you,” Rose said. “My daughter Amy told me all about you.” She glanced at Riley and winked.
Sophie wished Darla and Rose would outright acknowledge him as Amy had. Rose’s subtle winks and Darla’s pretense had to hurt. Almost like reliving Spencer’s rejection, she thought sadly.
“Good to meet you, too.” Riley leaned one arm on the bar. “Have either of you beautiful ladies heard from your brother?” Riley asked, turning on the charm.
“Ooh, he’s more handsome in person. Than in his pictures, I mean,” Rose said, stammering over her faux pas.