Harlequin Desire June 2020 - Box Set 2 of 2

by Karen Booth

  “Sure, okay.” She seemed reflective, as always, when it came to her ex. “Do you think Spencer knows that Dash and I used to be engaged?”

  “I have no idea. But I can ask him that, too.”

  “A lot of people in this town know. But a lot don’t. I guess it depends on how gossipy they are.”

  “Spencer doesn’t seem particularly gossipy. But he has been talking about himself and his family, telling me about his past. He never used to do that before.”

  “It’s good that he’s opening up. That he trusts you with his past.”

  “It’s been nice having real conversations with him. I think there are still some subjects that make him uncomfortable, though.”

  “Dash had trouble sharing his feelings with me. And when he did share them, they weren’t very comforting.”

  Because Dash didn’t believe in love, I thought, and Tracy did. “They say love hurts.”

  She touched a hand to her stomach. Was she thinking about the baby she’d miscarried? The child she should’ve had with Dash?

  She looked up at me. “It only hurts when it doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. But it’s going to be perfect when it happens to you. You’re going to marry someone who’s going to love you to the ends of the earth.”

  “Someone who isn’t Spencer,” I said, confirming that no matter how wonderful my affair with him was, it had absolutely nothing to do with love. I couldn’t risk my heart on a man who wasn’t interested in marriage.

  * * *

  On the night before Spencer and I were scheduled to leave for Los Angeles, my sister asked me for an emergency favor. Her nanny was sick, and she needed someone to babysit the twins. Naturally, I agreed to watch them. I adored Hudson and Hailey.

  I was in the master bedroom with Mary, and so were the kids. They loved watching their mommy get fixed up. She and Brandon were attending a black-tie event, something they often did. Brandon was downstairs, attired in his tux and waiting for his wife. He’d greeted me earlier, when I’d first come to the door. He was a wonderful husband and father, even if he was Kirby’s son.

  I turned my attention to the kids. They sat on their parents’ bed, dressed in their pajamas. At four years old, they were smart and spry, with their dark auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Hailey was being a pistol, as usual. Since I’d arrived, she’d already spilled some of Mommy’s perfume on the floor. Hudson hadn’t done anything, except smile at me like the pint-sized gentleman that he was.

  “What do you think?” Mary asked, as she spun around in her emerald-green gown.

  “Mommy pretty,” Hudson said.

  “Very pretty,” I agreed. I was Mary’s stylist, so I’d picked out the dress for her. Her closet was filled with choices I’d made. “Your hair looks amazing, too.” She’d styled her long red locks in a chic updo. When we were younger, she’d always looked like the girl-next-door type. These days, she was far more glamorous.

  “What about you?” Mary asked her daughter. “Do you think I need some earrings? Maybe a necklace?”

  “Yes!” Hailey bounded off the bed.

  She always chose the jewelry her mother wore on formal occasions. But the kid had a great eye. She’d inherited her style from me. Her rebellion, too, I supposed. Even Spencer had teased me about that, and he didn’t even know Hailey.

  I watched my niece sort through her mother’s jewels. She examined each piece carefully. Of course, Mary didn’t leave it around for Hailey to get into on her own. She kept it locked in a safe. Otherwise the little girl might be tempted to wear it herself or put it on her dolls or bury it in the yard like a hidden treasure.

  Hailey chose a diamond ensemble with ruby accents that complemented the shiny red soles on Mary’s heels.

  “Now Mommy perfect,” she said.

  “Yes, she is.” My sister had everything I hoped for: a kind and loving husband, two beautiful children, a successful career.

  “Will you tell Daddy that I’m almost ready?” Mary said to the kids.

  “Yup!” Hailey pulled her brother down off the bed, and they dashed off, excited to deliver the message.

  “What’s going on?” Mary asked me after the twins were gone. “You seem preoccupied.”

  Rather than hide my feelings completely, I said, “I’m seeing someone. In fact, I’m taking a trip with him. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. He has business in LA, and he asked me to accompany him.”

  “Really? Who is he?”

  “His name is Spencer Riggs.”

  “The songwriter?” She angled her head. “He’s friends with Kirby, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Kirby recommended me to him. But I knew Spencer from a long time ago, too.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “No.” I wasn’t about to admit that he was the last guy I’d slept with before I became celibate. Mary didn’t know about my sordid history with Spencer, and I wasn’t keen on telling her, either. “He’s just someone I’m seeing for now.”

  “Are you still hoping to meet the right man someday?”

  “Yes, I am. I just have to be patient enough to find him.”

  She glanced at her wedding ring. “I hope falling in love is easier for you than it was for me. The way I lied to Brandon in the beginning, hiding my identity from him.”

  “I still feel awful for being such a big part of that.” I’d orchestrated her deception, encouraging her to hurt Brandon. I’d believed at the time that he’d been involved in destroying Mama, which wasn’t true, and Mary had gotten close to him under false pretenses to find out the truth.

  “It’s over now.” She gazed at her ring again. “Everything turned out the way it should.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, envious of her life, but glad for her, too. “You better get going or you’ll be late.” I picked up her gold clutch and handed it to her.

  She took the purse, checking her belongings inside of it. “Brandon must be keeping the kids busy. Otherwise they would be back to see what’s taking me so long.”

  We went downstairs together. Me in my comfy babysitting outfit, and Mary in her gown.

  Brandon was in his home office, sitting at the computer desk with the twins on his lap. He was letting them type on his laptop. Brandon was an entertainment lawyer, a high-society guy who loved art and music and fine wine. He had smooth black hair, regal features and stunning blue eyes, like the kids.

  “I’m ready,” Mary said from behind them.

  Brandon spun around on his chair, taking Hailey and Hudson for a spin, too. He let out a low whistle and said, “There’s my gorgeous wife.”

  She smiled. “And there’s my handsome husband.”

  The twins jumped off his lap and ran over to me. They seemed to know that their daddy was going to stand up and kiss their mommy. Sure enough, he did. It was just a chaste kiss, but it made my heart jump, reminding me of the future I longed to have.

  But in the interim, I had Spencer to keep me entertained. And tomorrow, I would be headed to California with him, immersed in lust and passion.

  * * *

  Spencer picked me up at my condo and loaded my bags into his truck. I’d overpacked, but I was a clotheshorse, so that was normal for me.

  As he pulled out of the parking lot, I said, “You look like a California boy today.” He wore his usual torn jeans, a plain T-shirt and slip-on sneakers with a checkerboard pattern.

  “I just wanted to be comfortable.” He frowned. “I probably should have mentioned this before, but I haven’t been back since I left.”

  “This is your first time going home?” I considered the circumstances. “I haven’t been back to Oklahoma since I left, either.” I was settled in Nashville now, and there didn’t seem to be any reason to return to where I’d been raised.

  He drove toward the interstate that would take us to the airport. “I have
good and bad memories of living in LA. But the bad ones always seem to take over.”

  “What’s your favorite part about LA?” I asked, trying to cheer him up. I knew the pitfalls of being consumed with the bad stuff.

  “The beaches,” he replied, his mood brightening already. “I used to surf a little.”

  “I can see you doing that.” Tall and tan, with his skin tasting like saltwater. I touched a finger to my lips, almost as if I could taste it on him, too. It made me want to kiss him, everywhere, all over his body.

  “Venice Beach was one of my teenage hangouts. I liked the artsy vibe, the weirdness, I guess. The surfing was good, too.”

  I was getting more excited about this trip, anxious to spend time with him. “Can we go there?”

  “Sure. I think you’d enjoy it.”

  “I wonder if three days will be enough to fit everything in.” Suddenly, it seemed too short, too rushed.

  He changed lanes, then glanced over at me. “Do you want to stay for a few extra days?”

  “Do you think we could?” I’d already made up my mind to have a good time and try not to stress about the future. But somehow, I still had butterflies in my stomach over it.

  “I don’t see why not. I can check with the hotel about extending the reservation.”

  ”Then let’s do it.” The longer we stayed, the more fun we could have—in and out of bed.

  Or at least until my butterflies subsided. Or our affair ended. Whichever came first.

  * * *

  This was the life, I thought, as we boarded the plane. We checked in easily, with comfort and style, using a different part of the airport from where the commercial flights took off and landed. Both the pilot and our flight attendant greeted us, introducing themselves and giving us special treatment.

  Once we were settled into our seats, I said to Spencer, “I’ve never flown this way before.”

  He studied me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “You’ve never been on a private plane?”

  “No, never.” Aside from my association with Mary and Brandon, I wasn’t part of an elite crowd.

  “My aunt and uncle used to charter planes. It spoiled me, I suppose. As much I hated living with them, I appreciated some of the luxuries.”

  “Who wouldn’t?” This jet had a glitzy black-and-tan décor with a dining table, two sets of sofas and a big-screen TV. “I used to rent party boats on the river. I burned through a lot of my settlement money, trying to live the high life and show off to my friends. But it caught up with me. I only took the job with you because I wanted to work with Derek and I was worried about my finances.”

  “I figured it was something like that.” He nudged my arm, his elbow purposely bumping mine. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t fire you.”

  “Smart aleck.” I adjusted my seat belt to fit more securely.

  He watched me. “You’re not a nervous flyer, are you?”

  “Maybe a little.” Soon we would be taxiing down the runway. “I’ve never really flown that much.”

  “You can have a glass of wine, if that will help. Or a cocktail or whatever you prefer. I don’t expect people to avoid drinking around me.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t need anything.” I wasn’t comfortable putting alcohol under his nose, in spite of his claim not to care. I chanced to ask, “Is it tough staying sober?”

  He sat perfectly still, almost as if he didn’t want to react. Then he said, “I already told you that I can resist the temptation. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have a bar at my house.”

  “Sometimes you still seem restless, like you used to be.”

  As the plane started to move, he replied, “You seem that way, too.”

  “Yes, but I’m not a recovering alcoholic.” To me, that made my restlessness less dangerous than his.

  “Don’t worry about it, okay? Kirby will always be there to help if I need it.” He watched me again, deeply, closely. “One way or another, I’m going to make you see him for the decent guy that he is.”

  “That’s never going to happen,” I shot back.

  “You’re always so damned stubborn.” His voice turned rough, sexy, commanding. “Maybe I’ll just have to kiss you to keep you in line.”

  My body went unbearably warm. The plane was gaining speed, making my breath catch in my throat. “Right now?”

  “Hell, yes.” He leaned over and slanted his mouth over mine, using his tongue to tempt me.

  I closed my eyes and returned his kiss, needing him, wanting him. In the background, I could hear the rumble of the engine. I jolted as the plane bounded into the air.

  But mostly, it was my lover jarring my emotions and lifting me straight off the ground.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Spencer

  The Chateau Marmont had been inspired by a Gothic French chateau, and the bungalow I’d rented was artfully crafted, offering a breezy sitting area, an elegant bedroom and bath, a private patio and a fully stocked kitchen. I’d requested groceries ahead of time, giving us the option of dining in or going out, depending on our mood.

  Alice seemed impressed. She wandered in and out of the rooms, with a girlish light in her eyes.

  After we entered the bedroom, she removed her sandals and flopped back on the ornately carved bed, her sundress billowing around her. I wanted to free my mind and simply enjoy looking at her, but my thoughts were too damned scattered.

  Was Kirby her father? I wondered.

  There was no way to know for sure, not without a paternity test. Kirby seemed certain of it, making me inclined to believe it, as well. Yet, if Alice was his daughter, I was still baffled about why Cathy had kept quiet about it. I hadn’t considered this before, but maybe Kirby himself had been the problem. Maybe Cathy had concerns about his addictions back then and didn’t want him participating in Alice’s life. Whatever her reasons, things were different now. Alice was a grown woman, and Kirby was clean and sober. If Cathy were alive today, she wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

  “What made you choose this hotel?” Alice asked, pulling me back into our surroundings.

  “The music director I’ll be meeting with lives nearby, so I figured it would be a convenient location.” I glanced toward the window. Sunshine slashed through the blinds, creating a mysterious pattern on the floor. “I was fascinated by the things I’d heard about it, too. In the old Hollywood days, they used to say that this was the place to go to get into trouble. It has a history of celebrities behaving badly here.”

  “Really?” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Oh, how fun.”

  “Yes, but the really wild stuff was kept secret. All of the rooms, bungalows and cottages are soundproof, and the staff has always been discreet, particularly during that era. The Chateau was considered a luxurious hideout back then.” I almost felt as if Alice and I were hiding out. Former lovers renewing their affair. That, in itself, seemed sort of scandalous.

  “Can’t you just imagine what old Hollywood must have been like?” She struck a glamorous pose, as if she was tossing a long, sleek scarf over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, I can imagine it.” I could actually see her dressed like a movie star. “But tragic things occurred here, too, later on. John Belushi overdosed in one of the bungalows.” I figured she would know who he was, given her interest in the ’70s and ’80s.

  “Do you know which bungalow it was?” she asked.

  “I think it’s over that way.” I’d already looked it up on the net. “I’m sure they’ve remodeled it since then, but there have been reports of him haunting it over the years. I don’t know if that’s true or just people making up stories.”

  Her gaze sought mine. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  “I’d like to think that they’re real. When I was a teenager, I used to go to our old apartment and park in front of the building, wishing my mom
would appear. She never did, though.”

  She gave me a sympathetic look. “Was it hard for you when you left LA? Did you feel as if you were leaving her behind?”

  I nodded, my heart clenching at the memory. “She loved this town. But it changed for me after she died.”

  “Will you take me to see your old apartment? We can park out front the way you used to do.”

  “Maybe we can do that tonight.” She understood my loss. Her mother was gone, too. But how was she going to feel when she learned that Kirby might be her dad?

  She got to her feet and came over to me. I put my arms around her, stroking a hand down her back and inhaling the citrusy scent of her perfume.

  Now that her paternity was on the line, should I work toward discovering mine, too?

  We separated, and I said, “I’m going to look for my dad. Once we get back to Nashville, I’ll submit my DNA to the ancestry websites and see where it leads. There are two main sites I’m going to use.”

  “That’s wonderful. I think it’s important for you to know where you came from and who your father is.”

  “It’s worth a try.” Was my old man out there somewhere? Would I find him? “But I’m not going to idealize him like I did when I was a kid.”

  “Are you still concerned that he might reject you?”

  “Yes.” In her case, Kirby wanted to be her dad. She was lucky in that way, even if she didn’t know it yet.

  She comforted me, skimming her fingers along my jaw. “Just try to be positive.”

  I embraced her again. “You’re right. I need to believe it’s possible.” Because who could say what would happen for sure? Maybe I would get lucky and my father would be as interested in me as Kirby was in her.

  * * *

  In the evening, after Alice and I dined at a new steak house in Studio City, I drove the Porsche Cayman I’d rented to my old apartment. It wasn’t the best neighborhood, but it wasn’t the worst, either. Mostly it catered to striving actors, models and musicians. Some regular folks, too. Not everyone had stars in their eyes. Some of the surrounding areas were laced with drug activity, but I’d always steered clear of those parts. I’d never been a druggie, not like Kirby and some of the other addicts I knew. For that much, I was grateful. I didn’t need any more demons.