Guarding Sophie (4 page)

I
T WAS ALL
Sophie could do to let the prime rib sit in its protective butcher paper wrapper on Kyle's kitchen counter for an hour. It needed to come to room temperature before cooking. She preheated his oven to five hundred degrees, lined the ingredients up behind the disposable roasting pan on the island, and got to work.

She poured a teaspoon or two of olive oil into the bottom of the roasting pan and rubbed it over the meat. She laid a dishtowel on the quartz counter to protect it and hit a Ziploc baggie of peppercorns with a heavy stainless steel measuring cup to break them up. Normally she'd use a rolling pin, but she wasn't surprised Kyle didn't have one yet. She washed her hands, and combined the salt, peppercorns, diced garlic, and rosemary into a mixture she pushed onto the exterior of the meat. It would form a delicious, fragrant crust when it was done cooking, infusing the prime rib with flavor.

Miraculously, she'd found a meat thermometer in one of the kitchen drawers. She stabbed it into the meat. It would cook for an hour, and then she'd shut off the oven and let it continue cooking for another three hours. She should make Kyle some lunch while they waited. He was probably hungry.

She heard footsteps behind her, and Kyle settled onto one of the barstools that sat on the other end of the island.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“It'll be fine,” he said. “Something smells good.”

“I have good news and bad news,” she said. “Which would you like first?”

“How about the good news?”

“I can make lunch while we're waiting for the roast to finish cooking.”

“How long will it take?”

“About four hours.”

“That's crazy. Why?”

“It has to cook slowly. And we can't open the oven while it's cooking, either.”

“So you're telling me we'll be eating dinner about midnight.”

“Eight o clock, actually,” she said.

He let out a laugh. “That'll give us a lot of time to catch up. So what's the bad news?”

“There will be lots of leftovers.”

“I'm not complaining about that.” His mouth twitched into a smile. “Want me to make you a sandwich?”

“I've got it,” she said. “How about some quesadillas? They're good and quick to make.”

Sophie was moving around his kitchen like she'd been in it her entire life. Whoever did the initial design must have also loved to cook; everything was exactly where she would have put it to ensure cooking was fun instead of another chore. She pulled one of the rotisserie chickens he'd bought, tortillas, cheddar-Jack cheese, and green onion out of the refrigerator.

“It's a good thing I ran into you in the store,” he said. “I might have starved to death.”

She had to laugh. That feeling of freedom—and being around someone she really liked—surged through her again.

K
YLE WATCHED
S
OPHIE
bustle around his kitchen with fascination. He'd spent four years of high school wishing they were more than just friends, but he didn't know much about the things she was interested in—and so much time had passed since then anyway. He'd like to know a lot more.

He wondered if she realized she hummed while she worked. He saw the slight dimple on her cheek as she smiled.

“Are you at a place that you can take a break for a few minutes?” he asked.

“The most time-consuming thing will be stripping the meat from the bones on the chicken. If we get the cheese grated, we'll be eating before you know it.”

“How about I help you, we get the quesadillas into that convection oven thing the decorator talked me into, and we can talk while we eat?”

“Perfect,” she said.

He washed his hands and followed her directions. She grabbed a grater out of the drawer full of gadgets he hadn't spent a lot of time investigating since he moved in, and then handed it to him along with the block of cheese. “If you could grate two cups of this, it should be plenty.” She was pulling the already cooked meat off the chicken with a couple of forks as she spoke and arranging it on the flour tortillas she'd found in his refrigerator, along with some black beans she'd grabbed from the pantry and drained. She added the cheese he'd grated and spooned a little salsa into the tortillas before she folded them in half. He didn't have any fresh cilantro. Maybe she should make him a grocery list.

“These are really easy,” she said. “You can put almost anything into a quesadilla too. If you get tired of sandwiches, they only take ten to fifteen minutes or so in a three-hundred-and-fifty-degree oven. Or I'll come over and make them for you.”

He saw color rising in her cheeks when she realized what she'd blurted out. She turned to slide the baking dish she'd put the quesadillas in into the convection oven.

“I might take you up on that,” he said.

“Well, I don't want you to starve or anything.” She was gathering up the items that needed to go back into the refrigerator as he watched. She wouldn't meet his eyes, but she was still smiling.

“You just want to get your hands on my kitchen.”

“That's true,” she said. “It's pretty nice.”

“I've never had a woman more interested in my kitchen than me before.”

“There's a first time for everything.”

Sophie dished up the quesadillas with some raspberries he'd bought at the store yesterday. They had finished off their beers, so he brought a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses to the kitchen table and sat down across from her.

He took a bite of the quesadilla and let out an appreciative “Mmmm.” He tried to say something else that was muffled due to a mouthful of food.

“I'm glad you like it,” she said, pressing one hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“It's really good. Are you sure you don't want to move in here? There're two guest rooms upstairs,” he coaxed. “You can cook as often as you'd like. I'll do the dishes too.”

“Now
that's
an offer.” She took a bite of her food. “I like my place, but this is gorgeous.”

“You said you lived a couple of blocks away from the grocery store.”

“Yes. I rented a mother-in-law apartment in this woman's backyard. I can walk to work from there. It might be tough in the winter, but it'll be great the rest of the year.” She poured them both a glass of iced tea. “I'm saving up to buy a used car just in case.”

“You had a car in Florida, right?”

“I did. I had to leave it.”

“What happened, Sophie?”

She took a sip of her iced tea, put the glass back down on the table, and looked into his eyes. “Everyone's heard a story like mine a million times before. I got involved with the wrong guy. He hit me. When I tried to get away from him, he said he was going to kill me. I have a restraining order against him, but most women find they're not worth much when the police can only get to wherever you are so fast.” She swallowed hard. “It took me a month of planning, but I disappeared in the middle of the night.”

“He hit you? What did the cops do?”

“He got arrested, but he was out on bail hours later. He's really good at convincing everyone else that it's a one-time thing, it'll never happen again, blah, blah, blah.”

“What did your family say? Do they know where you are?”

“I told them I'd left after I got to Utah. I sent them a text from my old phone and told them I was fine when I arrived here, but I didn't tell them where I am. I can't use e-mail right now, either. I'm afraid he will hurt my family. I might be able to go back when he's finally in jail or something.”

Her eyes dropped to the table.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I know this probably sounds pretty stupid, but be my friend,” she said.

K
YLE WATCHED HER
shoulders tense up as she talked about her ex-boyfriend. She'd been relaxed and happy ten minutes ago as they'd joked about how much she loved his new kitchen. The color drained from her face as she described what had happened to her. She pushed her plate away and folded her arms.

He reached across the table and laid his hand palm-up in front of her. She slowly uncrossed her arms and placed her hand inside his. They listened to the birds in the trees chirping outside his kitchen windows. A robin balanced precariously on one of the shrubs outside. His yard was a thousand soothing, peaceful shades of green.

He'd bought this house to hide from the world for a while. Hopefully, it could offer some refuge to someone who needed quiet and security a lot more than he did.

“Tell me what happened with your family,” she said.

“As long as we talk about what we can do to fix what's happening with you.”

“I'm not sure if anyone can fix it,” she said. “So many other people have to deal with stuff like this every day. At least I had the money and resources to get out before he could permanently hurt me. Maybe I'll just have to live with it.”

“I disagree. I think you deserve more from life than to live in fear.” He squeezed her hand. “Why don't we finish the excellent lunch you made, and I'll tell you about what's happening with me. Maybe we could help each other out.”

K
YLE FELT RIDICULOUS
talking to Sophie about his pushy and demanding family members and friends. His problems were small compared with hers. The solution to his issues was to man up and tell the people in his life he'd had enough, and things would change—hopefully. He wasn't sure what he dreaded more: the actual conversation or the fact other people might find out that his own family was more interested in his money than they were in him. A few of his teammates had similar problems, but it wasn't like they sat around discussing them. They seemed to handle it.

Sophie encouraged him to talk about his challenges anyway. The years they hadn't seen or talked to each other melted away as they relaxed on his deck in the sunshine. She listened intently and didn't laugh at him for being a wimp, which he appreciated.

“I can't believe they're not grateful for all the things you do for them, Kyle. That's awful. And I had no idea they acted this way toward you, either.” Her brow puckered in concern. “You don't deserve that.”

“It's not that big of a deal in comparison to what's happening with you.”

“It's not a contest to see who has it worse.” She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Like you said, maybe we could figure out how to fix some of this stuff.” She glanced over at him. “I'm in if you are.”

He bumped fists with her. “Absolutely.” He saw her mouth curve into a smile as she relaxed into the chair again. “Hey, what are you up to tomorrow? Do you have to work?”

“It's my day off,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about a picnic by the river? I'll drive.”

“I'd love that,” she said. “Would you like me to make some food for us?”

“We can get some sandwiches from the bakery or something.”

“And pass up those prime rib leftovers? I don't think so.”

“My kitchen, my expensive cuts of meat . . . ” he joked.

“I'd want to go on a picnic with you if all we had to eat was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” she said.

They stared at each other.

“I'm looking forward to it too,” he said.

They hadn't had dinner yet, and he'd already asked her out on another date.

S
HE CUT INTO
the prime rib, which was perfectly done. She decided to make olive oil-laced seasoned roasted potatoes instead of the more traditional mashed potatoes with sour cream and cream cheese. She steamed broccoli and carrots for another side dish and opened a bottle of Syrah so it could breathe. Kyle was in the other room answering some e-mail. It felt like a couple at home for the evening instead of two people who hadn't talked in ten years.

“Are you sure you don't need my help?” he said.

“This is easy,” she said. “Don't worry about it.”

She couldn't wait to see the look on Kyle's face when he took the first bite. She loved cooking as much as she loved teaching. She'd wondered if there was any way to combine the two, but she didn't have any formal training. She practiced new recipes on her friends and family instead.

She missed them so much already. She'd been distracted from her continuing homesickness with Kyle, but she needed to figure out what she was going to do next. He'd said that they should work together to find solutions to the things in their lives that weren't working. She didn't want to burden him or anyone else. Mostly, she wanted to forget she'd ever met Peter and resume the happy life she'd had, but she'd realized something over the past three months.

Peter had taken almost everything from her, but he hadn't been able to scare her enough that she was willing to give up. She'd left everything she knew at home in Cocoa Beach. She was making a new home in Noel, and she was warmly welcomed by the people she'd met here. She liked her boss and her coworkers. A bigger apartment might be nice at some point so she could get a larger kitchen, but she was pretty happy with what she had right now.

She heard Jessie J singing again as Kyle's phone rang. He'd left it on the kitchen counter. “Kyle?” she called out. “Want me to answer it?”

“Yeah,” he shouted back.

She hit Talk and the speaker function. “Hello, Kyle's phone.”

She heard male laughter at the other end of the phone and two voices asking her questions.

“Hello there. This is Drew McCoy. Is Carlson around?”

A deeper, rumbling voice chimed in: “Looks like someone has a date, McCoy.”

“Aw, hell. Maybe we shouldn't tell her all his bad habits right away, huh?”

“He's in the next room. Just one moment, please,” Sophie said.

“Just a second,” the guy with the deep voice said. “What's your name?”

If these guys had Kyle's personal phone number, they were most likely friends. In other words, they were okay to talk with. “I'm Sophie,” she said. “I went to high school with him.”

“Ahhh,” the guy she now knew as “McCoy” said. “High school sweethearts.”

“I'm gettin' all choked up here,” the guy with the deep voice said. “Sophie, I'm betting you know stuff about him we're dying to know. Tell us all about it. You can trust us.”

“That's right. We're completely trustworthy,” McCoy said.

Sophie heard feminine laughter and a woman's voice in the background. “Sophie, I'm Derrick's wife, Holly. They're not trustworthy at all. Don't believe them.”

Kyle rounded the corner from the living room and grinned at her. “Welcome to my life,” he said. He held out his hand for his phone. “What the hell are you guys up to today? And hey, Holly. How are you doing?”

“Just fine, Kyle. Thank you for asking. I'll let Derrick tell you why we're bugging you on vacation.”

“You're not bugging me. Call anytime. Hell, you know there's always room here for you if you decide you've had enough of that guy,” Kyle said.

The guy with the deep voice must be Derrick
, Sophie thought.

“My beautiful wife is staying right here, Carlson. With me. Find your own damn wife. Speaking of a ‘wife,' who's Sophie?”

“Yeah. Does she know about you yet? I'll bet Morrison would be more than happy to be introduced.”

“Morrison isn't old enough to shave yet,” Kyle said.

“I'm sure he could get the job done,” McCoy chimed in. “In the meantime, we have a job for you. What are you up to in the next couple of weeks?”

“As little as possible. Why?” Kyle said.

“I promised Michael that Holly and I would chaperone his senior prom.”

“And you're running off to Hawaii or something instead.”

“Oh, hell no. We'll be back in Noel for the team stuff, but not that day. We're having an ultrasound in Seattle, and it's not possible to reschedule,” Derrick said.

“Is something wrong? Holly's not sick, is she?” Kyle's brows puckered in concern.

“She's pregnant. And no, we're not naming it after you.”

Sophie saw a huge grin spread over Kyle's face. “Congratulations, man. That's incredible.”

“It is,” Derrick said. “I'm a lucky man. The mamas and my grandma are so happy too. Holly's not feeling the best right now, but the doc says she'll be much better in a month or so.”

“I've been giving Collins some pregnancy advice,” McCoy chimed in.

“The hell you have. Do you know what he told me? ‘Tell her she's beautiful and don't be thinking you're getting out of those three
AM
grocery store trips for the cravings.' That's not
advice
. That's standard operating procedure around here. Shee-yit. Like my mama always told me: if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.' ”

“Isn't that the truth?” Kyle said. “Okay. You want me to chaperone the dance. May I bring a date?”

“Why not?” Derrick said. “McCoy will be in Noel too. He'll bring Kendall. You bring the lovely Sophie, and the four of you could have a night out on the town. As a matter of fact, why don't the four of you have dinner on me? I'll call Rudolph's and prepay the tab.”

Noel had a fairly good steakhouse, but the guys always seemed to end up at Rudolph's anyway. The menu was eclectic. The service was great, but the beer was even better.

“You don't have to do that,” Kyle said.

“Sure I do. You can buy us dinner the next time you're in town. Speaking of ‘in town,' Reed's wife has all the arrangements for the off-season team activity in Noel finalized. You'll be there, won't you?”

“Wouldn't miss it.”

“Well, then. I'll send you a text with the date, address to the high school, and the principal's name. It might be a good idea to call him and introduce yourself before you show up, guy. Thanks for doing this for me.”

“Any time,” Kyle said.

“Sophie, it's good to meet you. Don't fall for his crap,” Derrick said.

“Yeah. If he doesn't treat you right, you let us know,” McCoy added.

“I'm hanging up now,” Kyle said.

“You're next, buddy. Don't think you'll escape it,” Derrick said.

Kyle and Sophie heard a click, and silence.

“Meet my teammates,” Kyle joked.

“What did they mean—‘you're next'?”

“Dinner smells great,” Kyle said. “Want to eat? I'm starving.” He strolled over to the kitchen island, grabbed the platter of prime rib and the bowl of potatoes, and put them on the kitchen table. “How about I grab a couple of plates and stuff, and you can sit down and relax. I'll get some wineglasses too.”

“I'm guessing you're not going to answer my question,” she said.

A minute or so later, he'd brought the bowl of steamed vegetables and the bottle of wine. “I'll be back with plates and stuff.” He poured her a glass of wine and avoided her eyes. “To answer your question, it's not that big of a deal.”

“So tell me about it.”

He came back to the table with plates, silverware, and napkins. He also had a large black flashlight, which he stood up in the middle of the table and turned on. He reached out to dim the pendant light that hung overhead.

“The decorator didn't buy me any candles. This is probably the best I can do.”

“You really know how to set the mood,” she teased.

His dark eyes twinkled, and she lost her breath. “I guess I should come clean about Derrick's comment. This all started a few years ago. The Sharks have more married guys on the roster than anyone else in the league. They sign with Seattle and all of a sudden, they're getting married.”

“Really? Is that unusual?”

She reached out for the serving spoons and fork at the same time he did. Their hands touched. He brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Her heart melted.

“Let me get it,” he said. “You cooked. Twice.”

“But I love to cook.”

“I know you do. I'm hoping you'll want to spend some more time in my kitchen.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her, and she laughed. He made sure their plates were filled while she enjoyed the scents of a perfectly done meal.

“Weren't you telling me that you hoped you'd meet someone who wasn't just attracted to your kitchen? How about I'd like to meet someone who was interested in me, not only in the fact I can cook?”

“I'd like to say I never said that stuff, but damn, Sophie, this dinner is amazing.” He took another bite.

“Weren't you telling me that all the guys on your team have gotten married?”

“Most of them. This guy named Brandon was first. It took him a while to meet his wife, but he married her a year later. Another guy who used to play for us married her sister several months later. The younger guys on defense are busting out in wedding rings. If that wasn't scary enough, they're all on my back too.”

“You've been here a while. You've managed to avoid it so far, right?” She took another bite of food. It was even better than she hoped it would be. She really missed making a wonderful meal, but she couldn't complain. Some pasta and a little safety were always better than the best four-course meal.

“I may or may not have bet those clowns a thousand bucks each that I will avoid saying ‘I do' until my career is over.”

“How many clowns are there?”

“You talked to two of them. The other ones are Zach and Seth. Zach's married to Cameron. You've seen her if you've ever watched FOX Sports.”

She nodded like she knew what he was talking about. She really didn't watch sports, but she'd heard about the guy who played for the Sharks with the sportscaster wife from some of her coworkers.

“Seth got married on Valentine's Day in Kauai. He married Jillian, who plans the team's charitable events. If all the hearts and flowers weren't enough, these people are all disgustingly happy. It's bedroom eyes and kissy face all day long when I have to be around them.”

“Girl germs, no returns,” Sophie said.

“You know what it's like to be around stuff like that.”

She nodded. Peter had left her pretty unwilling to get involved with another guy, but she still remembered what it was like to be around someone she wanted to spend a lot more time with. Like Kyle.

K
YLE HELPED HER
clean up after their delicious dinner. They made do with a pint of Ben & Jerry's for dessert, and he held out his hand to her after they tucked the bowls and spoons in the dishwasher.

“Want to watch a movie with me?”

A few hours ago, Sophie had wondered how she was going to tell Kyle that maybe they shouldn't spend time together. As they talked and laughed together, she realized she didn't want the evening to end. Time with a friend seemed to have mystical, restorative powers. Or, she was having fun, and she wasn't ready to stop yet.

“That sounds like fun,” she said.