She hadn't lost yet. But time wasn't waiting for Mac. Each passing minute favored Dune. Her watch read four-fifty now.

It was five till five when Randy came to her and nudged her arm. She was in a dressing room collecting T-shirts and board shorts that had been tried on, but discarded.

He looked very serious. The boy nodded toward the counter. "A shoplifter," he warned Sophie.

Her heart skipped a beat. Surely not two thefts in one day. She dropped the clothes and turned quickly. The man was easy to spot. He wore a black hoodie, sunglasses, and dark gray board shorts. He was barefoot. Not much of a disguise for sneaking into the shop.

Mac James. She was incredibly glad to see him.

His appearance sealed her win.

Winning made her smile. She wanted to jump for joy, to pump her arm and cheer. She tamped down her excitement. Mac looked awful. He hadn't shaved and his stubble was dark against his ashen skin. His lower lip was cut and swollen. Jenna had bitten him hard. Mac wouldn't be kissing her or anyone anytime soon. He'd learned his lesson.

"That's Mac, Dune's volleyball partner," she told Randy. "He's not a thief."

"Then why's he slinking around?"

Sophie knew why-Mac wanted to see Jenna. Yet once he'd entered her shop, he'd gotten cold feet. He wasn't certain how to approach her. It was hard for a six-foot-four man to hide among the circular racks. He stood out even with his head down and shoulders slumped.

"It's time to lock up," Jenna called out as she walked to the front of the store. Keys jingled in her hand. "You can all leave. I'm going to stay a few extra minutes and dress the mannequins."

She was nearly to the door when she caught sight of Mac. Her steps slowed and anger heated her cheeks. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I was looking for Dune," Mac said sullenly. "I have a message from his grandfather."

"You can leave it with me."

"It's private."

"Dune's on the loading dock, shooting foam packing peanuts into the Dumpster," Jen said. "You can wait for him on the boardwalk."

"It looks like rain."

Sophie glanced out the window and saw it was sunny. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. She didn't contradict him, however. She'd won the bet. She couldn't wait to see Dune's face.

How much celebration was appropriate? she wondered. Should she smile, do a happy dance? Good sportsmanship was important to her. She went with a grin.

Dune's expression was priceless. He saw Mac and his eyes narrowed; his jaw set. "What's up?" he asked rather sharply.

"He's delivering a message from Frank," Jenna said.

Dune raised an eyebrow. "And the message is?"

"He wants you to pick up a dozen wheat bagels on your way home."

"My grandfather doesn't eat bagels, only white bread."

Mac shrugged. "Don't kill the messenger. Maybe he needs more fiber."

Dune ran one hand down his face, muttered, "Unbelievable."

Surprising yet plausible, thought Sophie. Frank hadn't sent Mac. He'd come on his own. He needed a reason to see Jen and had used Dune's grandfather as an excuse.

Sophie's smile widened and Dune's frown deepened.

"I'm outta here." Randy eased by Sophie. He surprised everyone by sticking his hands in his pockets and turning them inside out. "Clean," he said.

Sophie waved. "See you tomorrow."

The boy glanced at the display of sunglasses. "Fifteen hours to go." And he was gone.

"I'm leaving, too," said Sophie.

"I'm right behind you." Dune was so close she felt the heat of his body. Lime, sunshine, and man followed her out the door.

"Winner," she said once they were on the boardwalk. She then crooked her finger and led him down the boardwalk to The Dairy Godmother.

A homemade ice cream sandwich was her prize.

"Care to make another wager?" she asked after they'd placed their order. She chose strawberry ice cream between the chocolate cake bars. Dune went with vanilla.

He looked down on her. "Go again? Your win was a fluke."

"Chicken." A win was a win. She felt daring and bold.

"Feeling pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Mac used bagels as an excuse to see Jen."

"He's not thinking straight," said Dune. "That was his hangover talking."

A young girl behind the counter laid their ice cream sandwiches on two plates and passed them to Dune. They located a cafe table at the back of the store. Once seated, Sophie took a small bite of her ice cream sandwich and savored the taste. "The next time we see Mac and Jenna they'll be on a date," she predicted.

He blew her off. "Not a chance."

"Then wager."

"One win and you've turned gambler."

Mac hadn't been very imaginative with his bagel story, but it had gotten him in the shop. Sophie believed he liked Jen and truly wanted to see her. Until he recognized that fact, he would strategize his way into Jen's heart.

Dune finished his ice cream sandwich. He leaned back on the cafe chair and stretched out his legs beneath the table. He trapped her knees and the brief pressure made her shiver. She was so distracted by his touch, she couldn't finish her ice cream sandwich, which was fine by Dune. He easily managed the last two bites.

"Any plans for tonight?" he asked her, lightly bumping her knees a second time.

She wished she did. She'd love to sound interesting and fun with places to go and people to see. Instead, she shook her head. "Jenna mentioned Twilight Bazaar."

Dune was aware of the event. "There will be food and seasonal items and lots of Christmas crafts in May. My elementary school once rented a table to display the ceramics from our art classes. I made a dozen clay giraffes, all with crooked necks."

She envisioned a tall boy with long fingers bending over a table, molding and shaping a lump of clay. "How did they sell?" she asked.

"My giraffes sold second to Zane's monkeys," he told her. "Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, See No Evil drew everyone's attention. Parents placed orders when the trio sold out. Zane spent a summer making monkeys."

"He's younger than you?"

"By a year," he said. "He cramped my ass all through school. He was an aggressive, goal-oriented kid, always trying to top me in grades, sports, and dating. He couldn't, however, catch me in height. I was six feet when I entered high school and grew another six inches before I graduated. He was forced to look up to me then."

"I was the same height in middle school as I am now," she said ruefully.

"Five-foot-two works for you."

"I'll reach new heights when I walk on stilts."

"Still out to break a leg?" He looked concerned.

"Still out for adventure."

He nodded halfheartedly before making her an offer. "I want to teach you to swim."

His suggestion was more frightening to her than walking on stilts. Her heart raced and the ice cream sandwich she'd eaten settled heavily in her stomach. "Thanks, but no thanks. Water scares me."

He rested his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers. "Why are you so afraid?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Inborn fear, I guess. Why are people afraid of bugs, thunderstorms, clowns, sharks, and the dark? There are kids who won't go to bed until their parents check the closets and under their bed for monsters."

"Train whistles freaked me out as a kid."

"Car horns made me tremble."

He reached across the table and took her hands in his. His palms were warm and callused. He rubbed his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist. "I don't want you to be afraid of anything," he said. "You're stronger than you think. You survived the crowd at the Sneaker Ball. You took on Zane when you thought he was a troublemaker, then later tracked down Randy when he stole from Three Shirts."

"It came down to principle," she said softly. "I was defending people I care about. There's a big difference between standing up for a friend and standing in deep water."

"I'm a strong swimmer, Sophie," he said. "I wouldn't let you drown. Our first lesson: sitting on the side of your pool, dangling our feet in the water, and drinking sun tea."

She bit down on her bottom lip. "We'd sit at the shallow end?"

"Right next to the handrail by the steps."

She trusted Dune. "I'll give it some serious thought," she promised.

He nodded, seemed satisfied. "What about the bazaar?" he asked her next.

"What about it?" Was he asking her out? She was too inexperienced to be certain.

"It could be fun if you can handle the crowd."

"I made it through the Sneaker Ball."

"That you did."

He pushed to his feet and pulled her up beside him. He continued to hold her hand. People now crowded the ice cream parlor. Dune was tall, popular, and had a way of clearing a path. She followed close behind him.

Once outside, they walked down the boardwalk. It was the dinner hour and tourists sought hot dogs, pizza, nachos, and popcorn from the vendors. They'd take their food back to the beach and have a picnic.

Her eyes widened as they passed Three Shirts. She glanced in the storefront window and swore she saw Mac and Jenna off to the side, standing close and butting heads.

"Something wrong?" Dune asked when she slowed.

"Everything's fine." She suddenly had an advantage for her second win. She kept that secret to herself.

She cast a fleeting look over her shoulder. Mac and Jen were definitely arguing. She poked him in the chest and he grabbed her wrist. They scowled at each other.

Passion, Sophie thought, smiling to herself. Maybe they'd kiss and make up after their argument.

Sophie hoped Jen wouldn't bite Mac's lip tonight.

Eight.

"You're not welcome in my store," Jen said as she poked Mac James in the chest. "I planned never to see you after the Sneaker Ball." She drew back, ready to jab him again.

He grabbed her wrist before she could push him further. "Feeling's mutual," he said gruffly. "You weren't a great date."

"You should never have asked me out."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty."

They stood near the front door. It was close to the dinner hour and the evening crowd began to stroll past the windows. Jen turned off the lights, discouraging customers. Their shadows now played along the far wall, wavering with tension.

"Shop's closed," she said. "I have a date."

"Hopefully he'll show. You're such a prize."

Two T-shirts caught her eye on the circular rack. She flipped them at him, one at a time. Have a Nice Day Somewhere Else was quickly followed by I Press Charges.

He pressed his palm to his forehead. "I've got a headache. Don't shove those hangers so loudly."

Jenna slammed a couple together out of spite.

He gritted his teeth. Shrugging off the hood on his jacket, he removed his sunglasses. He widened his stance, as if seeking balance. His hair was mussed and he hadn't shaved. His eyes were red and darkly circled as if he'd drunk too much, then lain in bed unable to sleep. The cut on his lip was raw. She hadn't realized she'd bitten him so hard. He looked awful.