by Lori Ryan
The French doors had an archway over them, and they practically beckoned her to go outside and sit in the sun. Teak furniture that matched the set on the patio created the perfect private sitting area. As with all of Gabe’s hotels, everything she could want was set out for her—every luxury available to her.
“This is perfect, Gabe. Thank you,” she said as he set her bag down on the bed.
“Let me know if you need anything. Something light for dinner?”
PJ wrinkled up her nose, drawing a laugh from Gabe.
“Comfort food, it is,” he said, walking toward the bedroom door. “Double bacon, blue-cheese burgers and mashed potatoes coming right up. I’ll throw a salad together on the side to fight off some of the guilt.”
PJ laughed and then pulled her phone from her bag and sank down into an overstuffed wing chair in the corner of the room.
The laugh dried to dust in her throat as she read the line of text messages on her phone. She scrolled to see the phone number for the incoming texts, but the originating numbers were blocked.
How is that possible? Her phone number was kept under lock and key. Her parents, Debra, Lydia, Ellis, the band and a few friends had it. She was fairly sure Lydia and Ellis’s mom had it since both her children worked so closely with PJ and she was friends with PJ’s mom, but no one on that list would give it out. Would they?
PJ scrolled to the top text and read through to the bottom. They’d all come within minutes of one another and they read like the kind of sing-song teasing you might hear on a playground:
Did you think I was going to let you off the hook so easily, Pretty Prudence Cantrell?
Last night was just a taste of the hell you’ll be going through in the weeks to come.
Did you cry yourself to sleep last night?
How many times do you think your baby cried himself to sleep without you?
Time to pay the price for your selfishness, Pretty Pru.
That answered the question of whether the person knew all her secrets. PJ closed her eyes and squeezed them until the tears she’d felt threatening backed off just a bit. Crying wouldn’t change anything.
Her hands shook as she typed in a response.
What do you want?
She jumped when the phone beeped almost immediately.
Tsk tsk, Pretty Pru. I already told you that. You’ll pay. It’s that simple. The world has only seen what you’ve let them see. You have them all fooled. But not me. I know the truth. I know all your dirty little secrets. And, I plan to make your payment long and hard.
I can pay you for the journal. I’ll pay you more than the newspapers will, she offered knowing that would mean spending most of her fortune, but she didn’t care.
So like a spoiled rich brat to think she can buy her way out of everything. I can’t be bought.
PJ took a deep breath and pulled up her contacts, then pushed the entry for her uncle and aunt, Brian and Susie Chambers. She listened to the ringing on the other end of the phone as her mind raced through the list of people who could be behind this.
“Hello.” It was Brian who picked up the phone.
“It’s me,” PJ said and realized she sounded awful. The words came out sounding more like a sob than anything intelligible.
“Pru, how’re you holding up?” Brian asked, and she could hear the genuine concern in his voice. It took several minutes for her to get it together enough to answer him.
“Uh, it’s not good, Brian.”
“I know, hon. Susie saw it on one of the talk shows this morning. Your mom said you were handling things okay. That you’re taking a few days off?”
PJ shook her head even though he couldn’t see her over the phone. “I didn’t tell Mom and Dad all of it.”
There was a slight pause on the other end before her uncle answered. “Didn’t tell them what, Pru?”
“Whoever leaked those things from my journal—they have the whole thing. They have all of it, from the time I left rehab on. They know, Brian.”
PJ could hear him talking in the background before Susie’s voice came on the phone.
“Are you sure they have it all? Maybe they just got pieces of it?” Susie asked, and PJ lost her fight against the tears as she answered.
“The journal is missing—they have it. And they texted me. They know about the baby.” PJ’s shoulders slumped, and she pulled her knees up to her chest as she waited for a response.
“Did they ask for money?” Susie asked.
“I tried to buy it back but they don’t want that. They want me to pay for my selfishness. I don’t know who it could be.” She could hear more muffled talk as Brian and Susie spoke.
Brian came back on the phone. “Susie and I need to talk about this, Pru, but we’ll call you soon. I want you to tell your parents about this, you hear me? You need to let them know what’s going on so they can increase your security and help you deal with this if it does come out.”
“I’ll tell them soon, Brian. I just want a few days, and I’m in a safe location right now. No one knows where I am.”
And, no one was supposed to have your cell phone number, either.
It was stupid really, but PJ was twenty-nine years old. She didn’t want to run to her parents to fix her problems anymore. Lord knew, they’d had to do enough for her when she was younger. They shouldn’t have to carry her through this now. Whatever this person wanted, she’d handle it herself.
Gabe looked up and studied her face when PJ entered the kitchen. She looked a bit like she might have been crying, but he didn’t want to push her with questions.
He couldn’t imagine having his private thoughts spread out on the Internet for everyone to see. That had to hurt, even though she’d put up a pretty good front so far.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, tossing the freshly sliced tomatoes onto the top of the salad. “I thought we’d eat out on the patio?”
PJ nodded at him but didn’t speak, and that’s when Gabe was sure—she had been crying. He came around the kitchen island and pulled her into him, tucking her head under his chin and rubbing her back.
The gesture had been meant to comfort her but she felt so effing good in his arms—so perfectly right when he held her close. He could feel her small arms come around his back to hold him, and he really didn’t want to let her go.
The disappointment he felt when she pulled away was tempered only slightly by the smile on her face when he looked down at her.
“Thanks. I needed that,” she said.
“Anytime,” he said. Any and every time you want.
Gabe crossed to the island and grabbed the salad and plates. “The burgers should be ready out on the grill and everything else is already out there.”
“It smells amazing,” she said as they walked to the patio together.
Gabe set the salad down and went about plating the burgers and scooping heaps of mashed potatoes onto the plate. He looked down at the heaping plate then up at PJ’s tiny frame.
“Oh, you probably can’t eat all this, can you?” he asked and turned to scoop some of the potatoes back. He’d served her the kind of portion he might hand to Jack or Andrew for a first round.
PJ stabbed at his hand with a fork. “Back off my potatoes, mister,” she said and pulled the plate from his hands. “Mine,” she said, twisting to guard the food with her body as she eyed him suspiciously. Damn she was funny; he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Something to drink?” Gabe’s face heated. With her history of alcohol addiction, he shouldn’t offer her anything alcoholic, he thought quickly. Why hadn’t he considered that earlier?
He had no idea how his caretakers had stocked the fridge, and he hadn’t thought to ask for nonalcoholic drinks. “Water? Coke? Um––” He looked toward the small fridge in the outdoor kitchen, not sure what was there.
“Water’s great,” PJ said as she sat in one of the chairs. If she noticed his discomfort about what to offer her, she didn’t let it show.
Ga
be grabbed two bottles of water and shut the fridge with his foot then retrieved his plate from next to the grill. A flick of a light switch with his elbow had flames dancing to life in the gas firepit as he lowered himself into the chair next to PJ’s.
PJ moaned when she took a bite of the bacon, blue cheese concoction he’d cooked up for them and Gabe felt his whole body still. If she didn’t knock off that adorable habit she had of moaning when something good crossed those lips, he wouldn't make it through the week without a lot of cold showers and hand lotion.
“It’s okay if you want to drink,” she said in between bites, and Gabe’s first thoughts jumped to whiskey.
Shots of whiskey might help him get through this alive and moderately sane without too many fantasies about other ways he could make her moan, or what she might sound like when he took her soft nipple into his mouth and made it peak under his tongue.
He shook his head instead, half in answer to her and half in an attempt to banish thoughts of PJ’s breasts from his mind. “I’m good with water. Burger okay?” he asked.
“More than okay. It’s amazing. Maybe that’s what you should do now. Become a chef. Or open a chain of restaurants. World-class restaurants with nothing but comfort food.”
Gabe laughed as PJ took another big bite and then followed that with a forkful of mashed potatoes.
And, another moan. Dear Lord, woman. Gabe wanted to lean across his chair and swallow those moans of hers in a kiss. But, that was the last thing she needed and he wouldn’t do that to her now. He’d be what she needed: a friend.
He shifted his plate in his lap. It wouldn’t look great for her to see exactly how much she affected him. She’d probably run and hide if she knew the kind of thoughts he had about her.
“No?” she asked, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on him. “Don’t like the restaurant idea? Hmmm. A cooking show! I bet all the housewives would watch you cook. You know, jeans and an apron? Nothing much else?” PJ said with a mischievous grin. “I bet if you demonstrated how to make a bowl of cereal with no shirt on it would be a hit.”
Gabe turned to look at her as she laughed next to him. Her whole face lit up when she laughed, and desire flew through him hard and fast and demanding.
To hell with it.
He leaned across the space between the two Adirondack chairs and swept her mouth with his, quickly. Just a taste. Just the taste he’d been dreaming about for years. He pulled back and looked into her stunned eyes.
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” he said, but didn’t move away as his eyes locked with hers. “I just wanted to see what that felt like. What you taste like.”
PJ’s eyes were big and round and Gabe cursed again in his head. He really shouldn’t have done that. This wasn’t what she needed right now. He knew that. Hell, he’d been telling himself that for days whenever he tried to curb his desire.
Then she leaned in, and one of her hands snaked behind his head and pulled him to her—back to her mouth—and he was lost.
Utterly lost in the feel of her lips as they connected with his, the feel of her tongue as it tangled with his own, the feel of her body when he slid his arms around her and pulled her closer to him.
Gabe allowed himself to get lost in her for just a moment, before pulling away and taking a breath.
“Shit,” he said, not meeting her eyes.
PJ was still and quiet next to him, and he could hear her trying to settle her breathing. It was likely as much of a challenge for her as it had been for him. That was one hell of a kiss.
“Well,” PJ said with a little laugh. “That’s what you want to hear after you kiss a man. ‘Shit.’”
Gabe’s eyes flew to hers and he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, PJ. I really didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t bring you here for that. I didn’t come here planning to take advantage of you like some...some... Shit.” Gabe didn’t know what else to say.
He watched PJ’s face, trying to get a read on her thoughts, but she remained silent.
“This is probably the last thing you need right now, Pru.” Something flickered behind her eyes and she sat up straight.
“You know what? You’re right.” She nodded and gave him a tentative smile before setting her half-eaten meal next to his and pushing to her feet. The distraction might be nice, but getting involved right now wasn’t a good idea, no matter how strong the attraction between them ran. “I should get some sleep, I think. I’m pretty beat.”
Gabe stood and nodded as she walked into the house, and he watched her turn toward her room.
What the hell had he been thinking? They were barely a few hours into their trip and he had been all over her. Why on earth had he thought he could bring her here and keep his hands off her?
Gabe tossed the leftover food in the trash and left the dishes in the sink. He’d deal with them in the morning. For now, he wanted to grab his swim trunks and hit the ocean. Maybe the cold water would knock some sense into him and cool his desire.
Chapter 6
PJ took longer than she normally would have to get ready the following morning. She knew damned well it was because she didn’t want to face Gabe after that kiss.
She was embarrassed, but more so, she was afraid things would be awkward and uneasy between her and Gabe now. The relationship she’d built with him in the last few years was surprisingly important to her.
A huff of laughter escaped her as she thought about how absurd it was that she could label the friendship she’d developed with the man who owned her favorite hotels as one of her best friendships. Yeah, just showed you how ridiculous her life had become.
She glanced at her guitar sitting in the corner of the room and promised herself she’d take it out to the back patio and play later today.
Putting her phone into the bedside drawer so she could ignore the dumpster fire her world had become, she took a deep breath and opened the door. Time to face Gabe.
When she walked in the kitchen, she found him sitting on a bar stool at the counter, drinking coffee and reading the paper.
Her heart kicked into overdrive when he looked up at her and went to the restaurant style espresso machine that took up a large portion of his counter.
“Latte?”
When he turned to look at her, PJ’s cheeks flushed with heat under his gaze. All he’d done was offer her coffee, but all she could think about was the kiss. And how he’d stopped it.
“Thanks,” she said, trying to force her thoughts in another direction.
“I have an idea for today,” Gabe said, seemingly happy to ignore the humiliating tension between them as he steamed milk.
PJ looked up. “Hopefully nothing that involves going out in public?”
Gabe grinned and shook his head, setting aside the newspaper he’d been reading.
“I thought I’d make four different kinds of popcorn—”
PJ held up a hand. “Four different kinds?”
“Cheese, butter and sea salt, ranch, and butter and brown sugar.”
“Yes.”
Gabe laughed. “You haven’t heard the rest of my plan.”
“You had me at butter and brown sugar.” She tilted her head. “And at cheese, butter and sea salt, and ranch.”
“Done,” he said. “You take your coffee to the couch and I’ll start on the popcorn buffet. Do you want anything else for breakfast? Eggs? Fruit?”
PJ frowned. “You don’t need to wait on me, Gabe. I can make a piece of toast or something.”
He waved her off and shooed her toward the couch. “I like cooking. I’ll make us something for breakfast and get the popcorn ready. You’re in charge of pulling up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on TV.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Are we marathoning them all?”
“Hell, yes. That’s the plan. We spend the day on the couch with blankets and snacks and watch Harry defeat Voldemort. It’s therapeutic.”
“I see. Does this come from some kind of ex
pert or did you come up with this yourself?”
The grin he gave her was one of those panty-melting variety and she was pretty sure he didn’t even know he did it. Being sexy was just his default.
“This was all me. But trust me, I know how to do a lazy day ignoring the world right. I think I even have some Kit-Kats and Twix bars in the freezer. We can pull those out when we hit the third or fourth movie.”
PJ shook her head but she went into the living room and flipped on the TV. Who was she to argue with that type of genius? Besides, curling up on the couch did sound like a great idea, and she hadn’t honestly seen all of the movies. She’d missed the last three.
She listened as Gabe worked in the kitchen, hearing the crack of eggs. Was it wrong that she was hoping he was making her an omelet again? Probably.
But damn, that man could cook.
And kiss….
She shook off the memory of that kiss even as it made her squirm, doing things to her body that she didn’t need just then.
She grabbed one of the throws he had folded on the couch and snuggled under it, flicking to the search function and finding the first Harry Potter movie.
She had it set up and ready to go when Gabe came in carrying a large tray with the omelets she’d been craving and fresh fruit. He hadn’t been kidding about all the types of popcorn.
He settled on the other side of the couch and handed PJ her plate with fruit and eggs.
She was going to be addicted to the man’s cooking by the end of the week.
As they watched Harry wake up in the cupboard under the stairs, PJ whispered, “Can I ask you a serious question before we get too far into the movie?”
Gabe turned to her immediately, his entire focus on her. “Always.”
PJ swallowed at the intensity of his attention but asked her question. “Can you make quiche?”
The way his smile spread slow and easy on his face and his eyes lit with amusement made her instantly relax.
“Damn straight I can make quiche.” He lifted her feet and placed them in his lap tucking her cover around them before winking at her. “Tomorrow.”
