Happily Ever Hers: Movie Stars in Maryland, Book Two

by Stewart, Delancey

  "No," he said quickly. "I mean. I'm happy for the company, actually."

  A little flicker of happiness sprang to life in my chest. I settled back into the chair. "Okay, if you're sure."

  He leaned his forearms on his knees and sighed, then looked up at me, a sadness in his eyes so profound that I wanted to fall to my knees in front of him, take him into my arms and comfort him. I had no idea what could make him look like that, but I thought I'd give anything to know.

  "I am sure," he said. "It was kind of a rough day. It's nice to see you, actually."

  "Is everything okay with your mom?" I asked, not sure how far I could intrude.

  He looked away, straightening and glancing out his window into the darkness, and sighed again like a man looking at something terrible that he couldn’t change. "Not really, but that's just kind of how things are."

  His answer didn't invite me to ask any more questions, so I didn't. "That sounds so hard, Jace."

  He met my eyes then, his head cocked slightly to one side, like he was trying to understand something. A sad smile crossed the full lips. "It just is," he said. "We can’t fix everything."

  Neither of us said anything for a minute, and I felt I owed him some kind of explanation, some reason I was pushing myself into his space like this. "I feel like I should apologize for last night. Or maybe for this," I began. "For asking you for more than I'm actually paying you for. I mean, your job isn't about hanging out with your client. I know that."

  He was shaking his head slowly, but I couldn't stop talking now.

  "I guess it's just that ... how sad is this? I'm lonely and you're here. Maybe that's all it is."

  "Is that all it is?" His eyes were sharp on mine. Was his voice a little bit disappointed?

  That was definitely not all this was. Not for me. It was a lot more than that. But it probably wasn't right. I didn't know if he could get fired if we ...

  If we did what? What did I want, exactly? I didn't know. I took a breath, dropping his gaze. Should I tell him it was nothing to me? Could I lie? I was a pretty good actress, even if I hadn’t won that Oscar I’d been nominated for. Jace deserved my honesty, and I found myself wanting to give it to him. Wanting to give him much more, if he’d take it. "No. That's not all it is. Not for me."

  It was as if the entire room condensed around us then, narrowing to the next words that would fall between us, the next words that might determine what happened here.

  "For me either." His voice was low and deep, these words rocky and jagged. I knew I could cut myself on their edges if I wasn't careful.

  "So ..." I began. I wanted to ask what it was then, what we were. I wanted to find out if he was worried about his job, his family, if spending this kind of time with me was dangerous for him.

  But then I realized.

  Of course it was. And it didn't matter what I wanted. I wasn't the one here with everything to lose. I was being an entitled movie star, expecting everyone around me to cater to my whims. Here I was, in the room of one of my staff, expecting him to entertain me late at night, to let me feel like this crush wasn't completely ridiculous, to help me be less lonely. I was being entitled and selfish.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to stand. "Jace, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be in here. It's your day off, and I'm expecting you to spend it entertaining me just because I'm lonely, or confused, or—"

  I was at the door of his room, had stepped almost out into the hallway, when his voice stopped me.

  "Juliet." It was that dark-edged blade again, and I turned to face him. To see the pain and desire mingling in his deep brown eyes. "Don't go."

  Chapter Six

  Jace

  She paused in the doorway, the light from my room shining in her light hair, glancing off her smooth cheeks, tracing her upturned nose. Red hot desire flared inside me, and I knew this was a moment that would determine the next. And the one after, and maybe days and months after that.

  I didn't know what this was, this connection I felt to a movie star so far out of my league it was a joke, but I knew it was real.

  "Okay," she said softly, taking a step back toward me, not meeting my eyes.

  I reached out and took her hand gently, and she let me, her soft fingers wrapping around and twining my own, and I felt myself exhale.

  For me, that's what it was. When Juliet was close, it was like the vice that kept my feelings in check released a bit and I could breathe.

  She stepped inside my room and I swung the door shut slowly, the click of the mechanism sliding home signaling some kind of finality. A decision had been made, I just wasn't sure exactly what it was.

  We stood for a moment, the air stilled between us, both of us frozen with our hands locked together. And then she looked up at me, those green eyes framed by a thousand dark lashes, and it was like looking through a prism to some better future, something more perfect than anything that was real for me now.

  I tugged her hand gently, and she was in my arms, her small frame pressed against my chest. My arms went around her, and an unfamiliar longing surged within me. I wanted to keep her there, keep her safe. Keep her forever.

  Juliet's arms slid around my waist, her hands finding their way up the planes of my back, caressing and holding me in a way I didn't think I'd ever been held. And when she tilted her head back and looked up into my eyes again, any restraint I still possessed dissolved the heat of my want.

  I raised a hand between us and traced her beautiful lips with a finger. Slowly, watching her intently the whole time, memorizing her exhale, the way she felt melting in my arms, the way her body pressed to mine. I couldn't help it then—I had to taste her.

  With a finger still on her lip, I bent my head to hers and brushed my lips slowly across hers. She moaned lightly, and my reserve snapped. I dropped my hand to the back of her head, letting my fingers slide through all that thick soft hair, and angled my jaw to kiss her fully.

  It wasn't a deep kiss—there was no tongue, no clenching of hands on each other's bodies—but it was the most sensual kiss I'd ever shared with anyone. And it was long, soul-draining, and sweet. And when I moved my mouth away, needing to look at her again, she held my gaze and pressed herself hard against me.

  "God, Jace," she whispered.

  I let the smile that had filled my heart find its way to my face, and kissed her once again, lighter still, teasing us both. I could have kissed her for days. I could have thrown her on the bed and let myself go, let myself do all the things I saw racing through my mind in that moment. But I wasn’t that guy, and Juliet was not that woman. She deserved my respect, and my patience. And she was the one who would have to ask for more.

  I let her go, moving to settle myself in one of the chairs by the unlit fireplace before I gave in to the urge to carry her to the bed and keep her there for days.

  "Are you? I mean ... don't you want ...?" Juliet stood where I'd released her, looking around uncertainly, her face flushed beneath darkened emerald eyes.

  Hell yes, I wanted. "There's no rush," I said.

  She laughed lightly, shaking her head and moving to sit across from me. "Did I do something? Something wrong?"

  "God, no." A shuddering release was moving through me, as if the soft kiss we'd shared had broken a lock I'd kept on feelings I had no use for, feelings I'd ignored for years. I was enjoying it, and I leaned forward, dropping my elbows to my knees.

  "But, I guess I just thought ..." She looked so confused, and I realized that most men probably didn't stop at a kiss when they had Juliet Manchester in their arms.

  I knew I had no claims on her, but if I had a chance with Juliet, I didn't want to be like most men. "You thought right," I said. "I'd take you to bed in a heartbeat. God, I want to," I nearly growled the last part. Just thinking about it had me harder than steel. "But this is new. And this situation isn't exactly your run-of-the-mill Tinder or Mr. Match hookup. We can take it slow. See if it's what we really want."

  Her eyes held mine, and I coul
dn't decipher what I saw moving in those sparkling depths. But she sat back into the chair opposite me, relaxing. "I'd like that," she said. "A lot."

  Chapter Seven

  Juliet

  Jace kissed me.

  And then he let me go.

  I watched, my limbs shaky and my mind a tumult, as he moved to sit in one of the armchairs. I sank into the other as I realized something: I was in real trouble.

  If Jace didn't want me for sex—or if that wasn't the bulk of it, at least—then this was potentially something more real than I'd experienced before. Even with Zac, who'd wasted no time taking me to bed as soon as he'd had a chance.

  When the first sting of perceived rejection wore off, something else took its place. Something that felt a lot like security and peace of mind. Maybe even something close to happiness. Jace didn’t just see me as an object.

  "So," I said, unsure how to press down the sizzle of nerves firing through me as a result of Jace's kiss.

  He smiled, his white teeth revealed by those full perfect lips curling up, and his dark eyes gleamed beneath the dimmed lights overhead. "So," he repeated.

  Every cell in my body was flinging itself against the next, my entire body like an electrified fence. But Jace looked calm and relaxed, and completely focused on me. I took a breath. "Tell me something I don't know about you."

  The smile dimmed a bit, and Jace dropped my gaze. At first I thought he wouldn't answer, and I worried I’d read everything wrong, but then he leaned forward and said, "What would you like to know?"

  I glanced around his room, looking for a clue to his inner life, to the parts of the strong tough bodyguard I hadn't seen yet. "Those books. I know you’re taking classes. What are you studying?"

  "I'm close to finishing my degree." He looked shy as he said this, and I wasn’t sure I should press, but I wanted to know what he spent his spare time reading, what filled his mind.

  "What will your degree be in?" I asked. "When do you have time for class?"

  The broad smile returned. "Physics," he said. "And I study at night. My classes are online."

  "You don't sleep?"

  "Not a lot, actually. I never really have. It used to drive my mom nuts, but I really only need four or five hours a night. Leaves me a lot of time for other things." He winked at me lazily, and there was something about the way he was sitting in that chair, his long limbs kicked easily in front of him, his arms draped over the armrests, that gave me a sense of peace for some reason. And knowing he was awake, studying, while I slept just a couple doors down—that made me feel safe too, in a way that even having Zac right next to me never really had.

  "That must be nice. I'd get so much more done if I didn't need to sleep."

  "And I think the complete opposite. Sometimes I think it'd be nice just to conk out for ten or twelve hours, to not have to focus, not care all the time." A cloud washed through the dark eyes, but he blinked and it was gone. "Your turn. What did you study?"

  I felt my face heat and the sizzling discomfort in my cells returned. People assumed I had a degree for whatever reason. But I hadn't gone that route. I'd left high school and come to Los Angeles. "I don't have a degree," I told him. "I was young and stupid. I probably should have gotten one, had something to fall back on in case things didn't work out with acting." I dropped his gaze. I couldn't have explained exactly why, but I wanted Jace to think highly of me, to think of me as more than just some actress. But the truth was, there wasn't much more to me than that. Zac had seen it clearly enough. Maybe once he’d gotten enough of my body, my mind hadn’t been enough to keep him around.

  "Seems like things worked out pretty well though," Jace said, his tone pulling my eyes back to his face, where the gentle smile waited.

  "Depends on your perspective, I guess."

  Jace looked around. "We're having this conversation in your Bel Air mansion. Your latest feature is playing in every theater in America, and your face is on half the magazines in the grocery store."

  "Right?" I said, wishing all of that felt more like happiness. "I can't complain, really."

  "If you'd gone to college instead, what would you have studied?"

  "Probably theater." A laugh escaped me when I told him this. "I'm not the brains in the family. And acting's all I've really ever wanted to do. But if I had a degree, at least I could teach if things didn't work out.”

  He shifted his weight, one of his shoulders rising as he said, "You could still get one."

  I thought about that. Putting aside the fact that I couldn't even go to the grocery store without being photographed and mobbed, I had no real idea what it would be like to go to school. But I liked the thought. "Maybe someday. Maybe I could do it online like you do."

  "You definitely could," he agreed, and the sheer belief those words carried made me feel it was true.

  We were quiet a minute, and as my mind worked through what we'd just said, I realized I was intruding on his studying time. I began to stand. "I should let you study. I'm sorry, I didn't even think about what you might need to be doing."

  "Sit, Juliet." His tone was calm but commanding. "I'd let you know if I was under the gun. I'd much rather spend this time with you."

  A little thrill shot up my spine like a tongue of fire.

  "Tell me about your family. You grew up in Maryland?"

  I smiled because thinking of home—of Gran and Tess—always made me smile. I didn't fit in there, but I loved that place in a way a person can only love their home. "I did.”

  Jace smiled back, listening.

  "I think I told you once before that I was raised mostly by my Gran. My parents died in a car accident when I was pretty young. My sister Tess and I went to live with Gran from then on, so she's kind of like Mom and Dad all rolled into one."

  "What's she like? How old is she?"

  My heart lifted a little, thinking of Gran. "She's not like any grandmother you've ever met, that's for sure." I laughed. "She's ... unique."

  His brows lowered as he thought about that. "How?"

  "Well, she tells dirty jokes in polite company, wears these matched sweatsuits like Beyonce, and refuses to quit smoking pot."

  Jace let out a bark of laughter.

  "She plays online games pretty much all the time—my sister has to drag her off the computer. And she's turning ninety in a little while. I'm supposed to go, actually."

  "To celebrate her birthday in Maryland?" Jace asked.

  "Yeah, but I don't think I can." I thought about the sheer complication of taking the trip. The airport, the cameras, the problems I’d be bringing to my sister’s doorstep. She and I had never been as close as I’d like, and I thought part of the reason was my fame and everything that came with it.

  He frowned. "Why not?"

  The lightness and joy I'd felt in thinking about Gran fizzed out as darker thoughts about reality, about Zac, came back. "I need to lay low and let this mess die down. Pay Zac off to keep him quiet, and hope some other celebrity does something ridiculous to distract everyone soon."

  Jace shook his head. "You can't miss your Gran's ninetieth birthday." His tone was adamant. "Is there going to be a party?"

  Tess had emailed me, talking about a tent and a band. "Yeah, my sister's putting it together." I'd sent her money and my excuses about why I probably wouldn’t come.

  "Good. Talk to your agent. You should go."

  I shot him a teasing smile. "Since when does my bodyguard tell me what to do?" I kept my tone playful and light. It was actually really nice having him here, interested in my life.

  "Since I can see how much you want to be there. Your whole face changes when you talk about Gran."

  I felt myself smile again. "I miss her. My sister too."

  "What's your sister like? I can't believe there are two Manchester sisters running around. Men of America, look out." Jace chuckled.

  I raised an eyebrow. "We're different. Tess was always a tomboy." I thought about her as a kid, all scraped knees and wild hair.
"She runs a water adventure business out there now."

  "Water adventure. What does that mean?"

  "There's water everywhere in Southern Maryland—bays and inlets, streams and runs. She takes people kayaking, teaches stand-up paddle board, takes people canoeing, jet skiing."

  "Fun." Jace grinned like he was imagining himself on a jetski.

  "Meh." I'd never been big on getting in the water. I liked looking at it.

  Jace laughed. "I wish I could meet her. Does Tess look like you? I can only imagine what a force the two of you must have been in school."

  I shook my head, remembering. "Tess never cared much what she looked like. She was into things besides boys and makeup. We were kind of opposites."

  "You're older?"

  "Yeah."

  "You ever think maybe it was hard to compete with you so she went a totally different way?" His tone was soft, like he didn’t want to say anything that might hurt.

  I thought about that for a minute. "Tess has always been her own person. I don't think she ever meant to compete at all." Had she? "I don't know. I remember a few situations where she got angry, where she said things about being in my shadow, being the second sister. But I'd always figured that was just sibling stuff. I was older. I got to do things first."

  Jace leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, listening intently. "I get that. My brother used to say the same things. Especially when I joined the Marines. He said he couldn't compete with a hero."

  "It would be hard." I tried not to think about Jace in uniform, about the photo, but the sexiest images of him in camo came flittering into my mind, warming my blood all over again.

  "I was no hero," he said, almost bitterly. "I was just another enlisted grunt trying not to get killed."

  I shivered at the thought of Jace being in combat. "I’m glad you didn’t get killed,” I said softly. “So what did he do instead?" I asked, curious about this brother.