Hal stuck his bottle in the sand and straightened up to stretch. Oliver imitated him, taking the time to roll his shoulders back and forth before he pulled his hands over his head, loosening muscles tensed by hours hunched over a keyboard.
"So, did you find her?"
Olive shook his head. "No. But I wasn't really expecting to. The name's too much of a set-up anyway."
"Well, if she's Dorothy, I am obviously better equipped to play the Wizard—"
"Says who?"
Hal grinned like the Cheshire Cat, pointing his ring finger upward. "Considering Lex's history, he is Scarecrow. That makes you… the Cowardly Lion."
Oliver groaned. "Thank you very much."
"Do you prefer to be a flying monkey?"
"Ah. Ah. Ah. Don't quit your day-job for stand-up comedy. So are we goofing all day, or playing some volleyball?"
"Bring it on, Ollie."
The blonde squeezed the ball a few times, got into position, and smashed Hal square in the chest before the other man had time to react.
"1-0."
"I wasn't ready."
Oliver caught the ball when his friend sent it back over the net.
Smack!
"Hey!"
"2-0."
"Fine."
The brunette set his jaw, and the game really began.
Balls were caught. Smashed. Plunges saved aces. Sand flew. They stopped at 10-10 to catch their breath, and wiped sweat from their faces. Then went back at it.
Oliver squinted in the sun, wishing for his Arrow's sunglasses. The Ray-Ban he wore didn't do much to keep the glare of the afternoon off. He scooped his bottle off the beach and emptied it.
"Hey, that one was offside."
"It's totally in, Hal. 21-19. I won. Fair and square."
"Nothing's fair about it. I was distracted."
Hal pointedly looked to Oliver's right. Oliver glanced over his shoulder.
Hal's distraction had shoulder length blonde hair, and walked barefoot in the wet sand along the shore. The khaki green dress shouldn't have suited her petite, hourglass silhouette, and yet… Yet, he stared, mesmerized, as the loose ends of the stash around her waist danced with the heels she held in one hand. She was still a solid quarter of mile from them so even with his archer vision he couldn't make up her face. He imagined a button nose and full lips, as if she was a grown-up Tinkerbell who finally grew up into Julia Roberts. Nothing elfin nor delicate, Sweedish-model like or Fairy tale Princess. He just wanted her to look… Real.
"She's trespassing."
"If that's the first thing that came to your mind I am going to worry."
Oliver grinned. He shot the ball he was still holding to Hal and start jogging toward the mysterious woman.
Chloe's head jerked upright when she heard the casual call. Then she caught sight of the man that hailed her and stared. She stared in awe, because none of the fitness nuts and movie-star wannabes she'd come across so far looked that good, and California housed so many beautiful people she'd felt awkward and out of place most of the time. Then she stared in shock, because of all the people leaving in the most populous state of North America, the one zeroing on her now was yet another billionaire, and apparently, she attracted the attention of those more often than trouble. Which said something in itself, knowing her.
Star City golden boy skidded to a stop a few feet from her and offered a killer smile. Oh God. "Miss?"
Chloe had to crane her neck backward to look him in the eyes, trying very hard not to blush while her gaze traveled across broad shoulders and an impossibly sexy jaw doing so. "Huh, hi…"
"This part of the beach is private."
The blonde angel babbling on her shoulder crashed in the sand in a flutter of mournful feathers.
"Priva— I don't recall seeing any sign."
His lips twitched in amusement. "What about the boulders you probably circled around on the way here?"
"I… They…" She remembered the massive chunks of rock. Climbing over those had reminded her of one trip she'd taken near Miller's Bend with Clark when they were searching for another entrance to the Kawatche Caves after Lionel Luthor bought it and blocked the easy way in. "How can you hope to stop trespassers with something like that?"
Great, Chloe. Get into a technical argument with the most powerful man in the city you live in once again, why don't you.
His aviator shades were masking his eyes, but it was all too obvious from the curve of his mouth he was enjoying making her squirm. The half-smirk gave him dimples, damned him. The tabloids painted him as suave and an outrageous flirt. Considering his current attire of trunks and sweat-through tank top, she had no problem imagining how people could treat him like nothing more than a brainless beach bum. But she'd also read about a shrewd business man with a keen intelligence and an eye for details his business partners tend to overlook. All her sources had forgotten to mention Oliver Queen had a wicked sense of humor.
Lionel had enjoyed bantering with her too. Like a fat cat which toys with the mouse before he decapitates it. Well, she'd stood toe to toe with Lionel Luthor, for all the good it'd done her. Oliver Queen had nothing on him. Except charm. And strong arms. And those freaking dimples.
Chloe huffed, eyes narrowed on her opponent, ready to call out his bluff.
"Ah! Pretty lady, don't listen to a word of what he says. He's a sore loser."
"I won that round, pal."
Chloe tilted her head to the side to see a tall, dark-hair man, about the same age as Oliver Queen and almost as handsome, winked at her over Star City golden boy' shoulder.
"Hello."
"Hi there. I'm Hal. What's your name, Beautiful?"
"Do— Chloe. My name is Chloe."
Oliver watched her m outh clamped shut in a heartbeat. She blanched to the point he feared she fainted. Instead, she stood so still he was taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor.
"I… I have to go. I am sorry for disturbing you."
Her eyes, challenging a minute before and the deepest green he had even seen, darted left and right, as if she wanted to make sure no one had heard their argument. Then the little spitfire spun on her heels so fast he had barely time to catch her arm to forbid her escape. She fought him, agile like a heel, but he had a good hundred pounds on her and training. Still, Oliver eased his hold a little. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"No— You were right. I trespassed. I assure you I didn't do it on purpose. It won't happen again."
She was upset, more than, and he couldn't fathom why. Despite the heat and the kiss of sunburn on her shoulders, her skin was icy cold. His hand still around her biceps, he twisted his neck to look at Hal. His best friend was looking at the blonde inconnue—at Chloe— with a curious expression etched on his features.
"Hal?"
"Please, let go of me!"
"Chloe, I am not going to hurt you." Oliver slowly retracted his hand. She startled at the sudden freedom and backed one step, ready to flee. Oliver reached for her once more, stopping just short of touching his fingers to her arm. Her breathing was too rapid and shallow. She was on the verge of hyperventilating. Even without Hal' strange reaction to the woman, there was no way he was letting her go away like this. "It's a long walk back. At least let me call you a cab."
Her eyes returned to him, huge and pleading. Oliver reached for her hand once more, gave her little thug, smiling in encouragement. "Come on."
"I can't… I'm sorry."
In a fraction of second, the tiny blonde jerked away and ran.
Completely stunned, Oliver stared at her back and the sand flying under her feet. "Turned down in two minutes flat, that's a new record for you, Queen."
The young man opened his mouth to answer, then darted toward the house, Hal hot on his heels. "Oliver!"
