by LuAnn McLane
“I’m not going to talk to her about that night. All I care about is making a shit ton of money for Mom’s foundation. Period,” Grady said.
“Okay, just checking,” Jimmy said, and clanked his beer to Grady’s. “We’ll get this thing done.”
Grady nodded, but later, after his brothers had left and he was in his bed, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about that night. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t give Arabella the ammunition to hurt him again. He’d never stop loving her; that was a given. But he’d be damned if he would ever let her know it.
CHAPTER SIX
THE ONE
There weren’t enough peppermints on the planet to soothe Arabella’s nervous stomach. She was on her fourth one when she pulled up to Grady’s house in the morning. The half a bagel she’d managed to eat felt like a gym shoe rolling around in a spinning dryer . . . thump, thump, thump. “Ugh.”
After she killed the engine, Arabella dug around in her purse for another mint, thinking she was going to have the freshest breath on the planet. “You can do this. You can do this,” she chanted. Her stomach remained a nonbeliever, but she got out of the car anyway, not wanting to be late on her first day of rehearsal.
After popping the trunk, she retrieved her laptop and tote bag filled with various things she probably wouldn’t need, but she liked to be prepared. With a jaw-cracking yawn, she wished she hadn’t stayed up so late watching Heartbeat videos and going over her notes for the millionth time. She dearly needed some stand-your-hair-on-end coffee but wasn’t quite sure how her stomach would react, and so she’d skipped her morning cup. Wine came in a close second in her mind, but it was too early for wine . . . wasn’t it?
Arabella had never been a morning person to begin with, but this particular morning called for sleeping in. Of course, coming across shaving cream, aftershave, boxers, and various other personal items belonging to Grady hadn’t been a stabilizing factor. She’d nearly slept in one of his shirts and then decided she was losing her mind.
Arabella had finally caved and slept in the master bedroom because she couldn’t give up the amazing ocean view, but being curled up in Grady’s bed created images that had her tossing and turning after she finally attempted to go to sleep. Her earlier close encounter with his bare chest didn’t help matters, and now she felt groggy, grumpy, and nervous. “Should have risked the coffee,” she mumbled.
Hopefully, dancing would increase her endorphins and she’d somehow get through this scary-as-hell first day. Stiffening her backbone, she hoisted her gear over her shoulder and walked around the sidewalk leading to the rehearsal hall.
The pool shimmered in the Florida sunshine, and graceful palm trees reached toward the cloudless, pale-blue sky. A slight breeze cut through the humidity, but she could tell that today was going to be a hot one. As she got closer to the rehearsal hall, she could hear Heartbeat singing their huge hit “Surrender.” She couldn’t help but stop to listen. On the surface, their music seemed to be classic bubblegum pop, but Jimmy’s lyrics had depth and meaning that took the songs beyond simple dance music.
Arabella stood there and listened to Grady singing lead while the brothers harmonized. Their voices sounded stronger, richer, and she had to smile, knowing that her simplified choreography would fit their more mature image. She’d always known that making girls scream minimalized their true musical talent, casting them as a flash-in-the-pan boy band. The Beatles had stopped touring because they couldn’t hear themselves sing over screaming girls.
Although there were exceptions, the unfortunate truth was that the shelf life of boy-band heartthrobs didn’t last long beyond their teen years. Knowing how hard Heartbeat had worked toward perfection, Arabella thought they deserved more credit, and as she stood there and listened, she was stunned by how amazing they sounded.
Grady’s voice especially seemed to wash over her, and if she hadn’t been loaded down with her gear she would have swayed to the music. After the breakup, she’d refused to play Heartbeat’s records and always changed the channel if they came on the radio. Until accepting the job, she hadn’t heard them sing in years. But to hear them live brought an unexpected lump of emotion to her throat.
God, she’d been so deeply in love with Grady. And Jesse, Jimmy, and Oliver were like the siblings she’d often longed for as a kid but never had growing up. They’d filled a void in her life that had remained a gaping emptiness since the day she’d walked out.
“Stop thinking about the past,” she whispered to herself, even though she knew that would be an impossible feat. When then song ended, her stomach did a little flip. She had to go in or risk being late. After sucking down the last little sliver of peppermint, she squared her shoulders.
But then Arabella’s pulse pounded and her nerve ran away like the hounds of hell were after it. She stared at the door to the rehearsal room and then spun around. A couple of moments later she stood by her car, fumbling in her purse for the keys.
“Going somewhere?”
Startled, Arabella looked over the hood of the car and spotted Grady walking her way. “I forgot something,” she said, but she knew by the frown on his face that he didn’t believe her.
“So you lugged all your stuff with you to get your forgotten something?”
Arabella felt heat flood her cheeks.
“You were leaving,” he said flatly.
Arabella shrugged and felt a trickle of sweat roll between her shoulder blades. “No . . .” she said, but then sighed. “Okay, yeah, I was,” she said, and waited for a smart-ass remark. She was hoping for one so she could say something smart-ass back. She watched him warily while he walked over to the passenger side of the car. And damn him for looking hot as hell in black running shorts and a snug white T-shirt. Why couldn’t he have a pot belly or a weird long beard or something? “Apparently what I forgot was my nerve,” she finished.
“I thought we worked this all out?”
“Me too,” she said, horrified that her voice was shaking.
Grady’s frown softened and he took a step closer. “Then why the hell are you leaving?” he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.
Arabella felt tears coming on and had to close her eyes and grit her teeth to hold a huge, noisy crying jag at bay. God, she wanted him to take her into his strong arms and tell her that everything was going to be all right. It hit her hard that she needed a soft place to land in her life. A shoulder to cry on. Someone to love her.
“Come on, Arabella. Get your ass in there. We need you for the reunion concert. Please, do this for Mom.”
“Oh, you had to pull out that card,” Arabella said, and swiped at a damned tear that had managed to squeeze through her eyelids.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Grady said with just a hint of a grin. He never really did smile much, being the bad boy and all that, oh but when he did . . . she was a goner. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she wanted to lean in for a warm hug and words of reassurance. She could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave and feel the warmth radiating from his chest. His grip on her shoulders remained firm but gentle, and God, she wanted to dissolve into a puddle of tears while he patted her head and maybe added a gentle kiss. She wanted to lean against his hard body and tell him about her failing business, the crazy corn-silk-tea-drinking Maxine, her plan to save her grandmother’s house, her lack of a social life . . . everything. Well, nearly everything.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll stay.”
“Thank you,” Grady said, and then, to her surprise, he pulled her into his arms.
Arabella hugged him back, her body reacting so strongly that she nearly clung to him, and she felt a slight shudder at the sheer comfort of being held. When was the last time she’d been in the arms of a man? She couldn’t remember, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because it wasn’t him.
Grady’s embrace fil
led her with resolve and strength. And although there wasn’t anything suggestive or sexual in his hug, Arabella longed to melt against him, run her fingers through his hair. She wanted to know if his kiss would still send a thrill through her even though she already knew the answer: Uh, hell yeah.
But a moment later Grady broke contact and backed away. He picked up her gear and tilted his head toward the backyard. “Let’s do this thing.”
Arabella nodded and then followed Grady down the sidewalk. She felt a bit embarrassed that she’d considered bolting like a great big coward, but having Grady reassure her, give her a hug, was the olive branch she needed. She also reminded herself that this job, the money, the publicity, remained instrumental in saving her fitness studios. So she walked behind Grady, trying not to admire his very fine butt beneath his silky shorts. The man must do a lot of squats to achieve that amount of firmness. What would it feel like?
No, stop it!
With her gear hanging from his wide shoulder, Grady opened the door and then stood back for her to enter. With a thumping heart, she entered, but she wasn’t prepared for the wave of emotion when she saw Jimmy, Jesse, and Oliver standing there. She loved these guys, missed them dearly. She dug deep in order to stand there and appear professional and put together, but when they rushed over for hugs, she nearly lost her composure.
Arabella had to laugh when the brothers all started talking at once. She noted that they’d all turned into handsome men, but she could still see their personalities shining through. Jimmy, the shy one, stood back a bit. Jesse cracked a few jokes, and Arabella knew his intention was to break the ice, which he succeeded in doing. Oliver appeared fidgety, as if he wanted to get down to business, and a glance at Grady showed him watching with interest. Arabella had no way of knowing how the brothers felt now about the night she’d left thirteen years ago, but if they held it against her, they were being careful not to show it. They seemed relieved and happy that she was there, easing her stomach enough that she just might be able to tolerate a cup of her favorite beverage.
“Do I smell coffee?” Arabella asked.
Jesse chuckled. “Do you think we don’t remember that coffee is a food group for you?” He walked over to a table at the side of the room and poured her a huge mug of the steaming brew. “Strong, two sugars, light on the cream, and a dash of cinnamon.”
Arabella cradled the warm mug in her hands. “You remembered all that?”
“No.” Jesse nodded toward Grady. “But he did. Took me forever to find the cinnamon in the kitchen.”
Arabella glanced at Grady in surprise, but he pointed at Jesse.
“I can’t help it that the kitchen is a mystery to you,” Grady said. “If it wasn’t for the microwave, you would starve.”
Jesse raised his hands in surrender. “Guilty. I couldn’t live without Hot Pockets.”
“Yuck,” Arabella said, and then remembered that they’d always had them on hand for Jesse.
“So,” Oliver said briskly, “let’s all grab some coffee and let Arabella tell us what she has planned for the choreography.”
As the group sat around the table, Arabella fell back into the easy camaraderie she’d always had with Jesse, Jimmy, and Oliver. She took notes while they chatted, adding ideas to her routines. Grady remained relatively reserved, sitting back in his chair, mostly listening. But Arabella couldn’t help but notice when his gaze fell upon her, and she felt drawn to him even though she tried not to look his way.
After finishing off the pot of coffee, Arabella felt more energized. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. You guys ready?”
“I was born ready,” Jesse said. “And first,” he said to Jimmy.
“Yeah, because you probably shoved me out of the way,” Jimmy countered.
Chairs were scooted back, and they walked over to the center of the room.
“Don’t let them complain and ask for break after break,” Oliver said to Arabella. “Especially Jesse.”
“I don’t complain,” Jesse said.
“You’re already complaining about not complaining,” Oliver said. “How does that even happen?”
“I have a bum knee,” Jesse explained to Arabella. “But I’m working through the pain. I’m badass like that.”
“You’re a pain in the ass is what you are,” Oliver said.
“Oh, right, you blew out your knee when you fell off the stage.” Arabella remembered the incident in London.
“To be clear, I was actually tugged off the stage by an adoring fan. Can I help it that girls love me?”
“Right.” Jimmy rolled his eyes and then grinned at Arabella. “Some things never change.”
“Yeah, girls still love me,” Jesse said. “I was voted the cutest.”
“No.” Jimmy shook his head. “You were voted the funniest because you did dumb shit all the time like falling off stages.”
“Well, still better than being the mysterious one. What does that even mean?” Jesse asked.
“It means I’m cool,” Jimmy replied.
Arabella smiled at their banter and then risked a glance at Grady. His dark head was bent over the notes she’d passed out, but she knew he was listening to everything. Although his face remained passive, she longed to know what he was thinking. He might have broken her heart, but it only took her one look at him to know that she still loved him. But she wasn’t about to allow her feelings to interfere with her work, so she’d keep her distance and remain friendly but reserved.
Oliver walked over to the sound system and started turning knobs. Even when he was younger, Oliver had always taken a keen interest in the mechanics of the shows. He’d also been the best at dancing and had come up with moves that defied gravity. Arabella had been with Heartbeat for two of the four years they’d been an international sensation. Even though they’d had arguments on occasion, the guys usually got along. Despite their grueling schedule, they’d also managed to have fun along the way to stardom. Grady said they’d stayed grounded for the most part because they performed for the love of music and not for money or fame, and she had believed him.
Arabella had spent the first year fighting her attraction to Grady, knowing that mixing her career with romance might not be the best of decisions. Sure enough, being the girlfriend of a heartthrob wasn’t easy and, as it turned out, wasn’t smart. But she simply couldn’t contain her feelings, and that first kiss had been nothing short of magical, and so she’d let down her guard and put her trust in love.
Arabella glanced at Grady and caught him looking back at her, but he immediately glanced away, almost as if he was angry with her. Sadness and hurt pushed hard against her attraction but hit a brick wall and slithered down it like a cartoon character. She couldn’t deny that simply looking at Grady made her hot and bothered.
Well, he’d expressed a desire to keep things between them one hundred percent professional this time around. Come hell or high water, Arabella had every intention of upholding her end of the bargain.
“Okay, guys, time to stretch,” she said in her best strict-instructor voice. “We don’t want any pulled muscles.” But then she made the mistake of looking over at Grady just as he raised his arms over his head, revealing a few inches of tanned skin . . . and her heart skittered around in her chest.
Damn, this wasn’t going to be easy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I NEED YOU TONIGHT
Arabella’s rehearsals were sheer torture and Grady grew grumpier with each passing day. They were two weeks in now, and when he wasn’t working with Arabella, he was thinking about her. She continued to invade his dreams and she messed with his head at the worst possible times. He’d also casually asked if she was sleeping in the master bedroom at the beach house, and imagining her in his bed drove him insane. And while he knew that tights and tank tops were regular fitness clothes that he’d find women wearing at any gym, seeing her in
them, especially doing dance moves, distracted him to the point where he screwed up the routines more than Jimmy, which was damned difficult to do. Seriously, she’d had a rockin’ body years ago, but now she had curves that he wanted to explore with his hands and mouth and . . .
Stop looking at her!
“Grady!” Oliver shouted. “You’re supposed to slide right and then spin to the left and then do a simple jazz square. Damn, get your head out of your ass.”
“Shut up, Oliver.” Grady glared at his brother.
“Guys,” Arabella warned.
“This isn’t doing any good,” Jimmy said.
“No, this is getting ridiculous,” Oliver persisted. “You can’t even execute a simple shoulder shuffle. Do you even remember your right from left? I can tie a string on your finger if you need some help.”
“Here’s your finger.” Grady showed him which one.
“Hey!” Arabella said, but Grady ignored her.
“Come closer and do that,” Oliver said.
Grady patted his chest. “Bring it.”
“Oh, now you remember to pat your chest but forget every other damned time you’re supposed to do it in the routine,” Oliver taunted.
Arching an eyebrow, Grady showed him his other finger.
“Okay, I’ve had enough,” Oliver growled, but Jesse stepped between them.
“Maybe we should take a break,” he suggested.
Oliver turned his attention to Jesse. “All you want to do is take breaks.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Jesse said with a grin.
“This isn’t funny!” Oliver shouted. “Your jokes are stupid.”
Jesse’s grin vanished. “No need to get personal. Look, the concert is already sold out. I’ve been telling you from the beginning that we don’t have to be so damned perfect. Chill out, for fuck’s sake.”
Oliver huffed out a short laugh. “There’s no chance in hell of that.”
