by LuAnn McLane
Grady stood there wondering where she was going with this. “You’ve been overthinking. You do that way too much. Worry too much. No wonder your stomach goes bonkers.”
“No, I’ve just been thinking. Just like you’ve been doing.” She swallowed hard and gave him a level look.
“And? There’s more?”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this.” She took a deep breath and then let her shoulders fall. “But I will.”
His heart pounded. “Go ahead, then. I guess I’m ready.”
“Consider the offers.”
Grady was shocked at her request, and his heart raced. “No. Why would I do that?” he asked, struggling to keep from shouting. “Why would you want me to do that?” Taking a step back, he shook his head. “Now you’re getting unreal. You’re taking overthinking to a new level, Arabella.”
“The first time around you weren’t given the recognition you deserved. It happens with boy bands. But you guys are so talented. You’re the real deal, and you should get the experience of being appreciated for your musical talent. It used to piss me off when we couldn’t hear you sing over the damned screams.”
“We can use our musical talents in other ways. We don’t need to be up onstage.”
“Grady, I think you’re also going to be surprised at how good it’s going to feel to perform for a big crowd. The adrenaline rush is going to be huge. You forget that I worked with some big talents after I left Heartbeat. I know this industry. And right now, especially, older boy bands are touring and doing really well. And having fun doing it. Look at the Backstreet Boys. New Kids on the Block.”
“We’re looking forward to the concert. I won’t deny that. We love performing. But that’s where it ends. Right here in Sea Breeze.” He pointed down at the deck. “I have my hands full running the foundation.”
“I think your brothers will feel differently after this Saturday. You too.”
“No, Arabella, we’ve already talked about it. We settled this from the beginning. Jimmy flat-out refuses. It will never happen,” he insisted, but in truth, the interviews, the music, performing together, did feel better than he’d anticipated. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed singing with his brothers. What if she was right? They were born performers. No . . .
Something of what he felt must have registered on his face, because she nodded. “You deserve to consider any opportunity that comes your way. And I don’t want you to include me in that decision.”
“You know that’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.”
Grady took a step forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “Arabella, just stay. The concert is two days away. And you’ve worked hard too. You deserve recognition. Can you do that? Please? Seriously, you can’t miss this event.” He felt panic rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant for it to come to this. If she left again, Grady feared she wouldn’t come back. “I’m sorry, I handled this all wrong.” He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.
“No, you didn’t. I put myself in your shoes for the past few days.”
“You hardly ever wear shoes,” Grady said with a slight smile. He looked down at her cute red toenails. “And mine would be way too big,” he added, trying desperately to lighten the mood.
She just couldn’t leave.
“Arabella . . .”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
INCOMPLETE
Grady’s pleading tone and serious eyes were hard to dismiss. When he pulled her into his arms and she rested her face against his chest, he was impossible to resist. Her cool cheek absorbed the warmth of his skin through his T-shirt. The solid beat of his heart, the ripple of muscle when he hugged her tighter, made her feel safe and eased some of her inner turmoil. He smelled of soap combined with the musk of his aftershave, which always lingered throughout the house even after he was gone.
Rays of sunshine cut through the cool breeze. The salty scent of the sea and sand surrounded them, and the rhythmic sound of waves crashing to the shore felt like a reassuring presence amid her scattered thoughts.
Arabella tried not to respond to Grady holding her close, but her body had other ideas. When he tilted her head up for a lingering kiss, she sank into the sweetness. She’d missed him so much. Not just for the past few days but over the years. The night she’d fled, she’d tucked her memories away, creating a Grady Heart file in her brain. But when a Heartbeat song would come on the radio, she’d slide back in time, sometimes sing along, but more often she’d cry and switch the channel. All the collected Heartbeat memorabilia from the tours remained packed away in Granny York’s attic.
The kiss enveloped Arabella in a warm cocoon of tender emotion, pushing away the rest of the world, eclipsing the constant worry in her heart. She gave into the need, the comfort, and pressed even closer.
Still kissing her, Grady lifted her up. Arabella wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging like kudzu as he carried her into the beach house. The surroundings became a colorful blur while he walked through the house until she found herself resting against the pile of pillows on the bed. With her pulse pounding in her ears, she watched him tug his shirt over his head, loving the golden skin kissed by the sun. When he shed the rest of his clothes and tossed them to the side, her pulse quickened.
Honed by weeks of rehearsal, his body was even more toned, muscular, powerful. A light dusting of dark hair covered his chest, narrowing to an enticing line that led to his full erection. Arabella felt a hot shiver at the erotic sight. Heat pooled between her thighs; her braless breasts felt sensitive, heavy, and when her tightened nipples brushed her soft sweater, she barely held back a moan.
When Grady moved closer to the bed, she drew in a breath. She craved his naked body next to hers and wanted to raise her arms in invitation. But she sat against the pillows, transfixed, unable to take her eyes off him. He moved forward with the grace of a dancer, yet powerfully masculine, insanely sexy.
Grady’s longer hair gave him a sensual, bohemian look, and Arabella’s fingers itched to delve into the thick layers. Dark stubble shaded his cheeks, making his full mouth appear even more enticing. He looked down at her with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see into the secret places she wanted to keep hidden, and they tumbled out, invading her brain, swirling around like shadows in the night. Hoping to hide her fears, her vulnerable emotions, Arabella wanted to glance away but couldn’t. She felt raw, exposed, fighting against telling him how much she loved him, how she wanted to be by his side no matter what he did or where he traveled. And yet she didn’t know if she could ever endure sharing him with the world again and be truly content.
Arabella knew she’d never be happy without him, but even though he denied wanting to tour, she’d felt the shift, the excitement leading up to the concert, and she wondered if the brothers could resist the offers sure to come their way.
Grady sucked in his bottom lip and appeared ready to say something but then remained quiet.
Needing to have her hands on every inch of his sexy body, Arabella pushed up to her knees. Holding his gaze, she scooted to the side of the bed. She put a fingertip to his mouth, over the softly abrasive stubble, and then explored his chest, the definition of muscle, letting her hands sink lower and lower still. He sucked in a quick breath when she lightly grazed her hand over his shaft and then cupped his sac. Wanting to feel that steely hardness against her skin, she tugged her sweater downward until the V-neck hugged the bottom of her breasts, pushing them closer together. Leaning forward, she pressed his penis into her cleavage, and then, cupping his firm ass, she moved slowly up and down, caressing him with her breasts.
“God, Arabella,” Grady said in a low, almost strained voice.
She could feel the pulsing power of his cock, the velvety tight skin, the swollen head hot and hard between her breasts. Her pebbled nipples rubbed against his skin, making her even more aroused. She felt his musc
les tighten and she knew he was fighting for control. When he would have pushed away, she squeezed his ass tighter, moved faster, showing no mercy. . . .
She felt his fingers fumbling with the zipper of her jeans, and with one rough tug, he pulled the denim down her thighs. Shoving her silk panties to the side he slid his finger into her slick heat.
With a sharp cry, she felt the impact of an immediate, explosive orgasm that made her entire body tremble. Mindlessly, she kept caressing him and then felt the warm gush of his release against her skin.
They clung to each other, chests heaving, hearts beating.
Wordlessly, Grady eased her back against the pillows, tugged her jeans the rest of the way off, and then joined her on the bed. He pulled her close, their bodies entwining, and just moments later Arabella drifted off to sleep, snuggled in the arms of her lover.
Bacon. Yawning, she sniffed the air, thinking that surely she must be dreaming. Nope, she smelled bacon. She opened her eyes, disoriented, wondering if it was day or night.
The room was dark, and a glance over to the tall window revealed stars dotting the horizon. She reached for the nightstand to check the time on her cell phone but came up empty-handed. The bed remained made, but a plush cover was draped over her naked body.
Standing up on wobbly legs, she used the bathroom and then found Grady’s shirt on the floor and tugged it over her head, making the haphazard bun come loose. She lifted the soft cotton to her nose, inhaling his masculine scent. Padding on bare feet, she left the bedroom and crossed the living area, following the delicious smoky aroma into the kitchen.
Grady’s bare back was to her, so she stood there and watched him cook, thinking she’d never seen a sexier sight. His jeans clung to his perfect butt, and his muscles bunched and rippled while he moved here and there, intent on his cooking. Impressed, she leaned against the doorframe and watched him crack eggs one-handed. Then, finding a whisk, he deftly scrambled the eggs. Glancing at the stove, he muttered, “Shit.” Grabbing some tongs, he flipped the frying bacon to the other side. With a sigh, he peeked into the oven and then nodded as if satisfied with the progress of whatever was baking.
She could watch this cooking show all day long.
When Grady turned to get something from the fridge, he looked over and spotted her, giving her a smile that made her melt faster than a pat of butter in the skillet.
“Hey there.” Grady swept his gaze over her and appeared to like what he saw. “Hungry?” The top snap of his faded jeans remained undone, making them hang low on his hips. She considered walking over there, pulling the denim down, and having her way with him.
“Starving.”
“Good.”
“Is it still today or is it tomorrow?” she asked with a yawn.
“It could be forever,” he said softly, and Arabella tried to squelch a glimmer of hope.
Grady looked at her for a heart-stopping moment and then tilted his head to the side. “A little after seven in the evening, sleepyhead. But all I could find was breakfast stuff, so we’re having breakfast for dinner.”
“Fine by me,” she said, and noticed that he’d put the red roses in a cut-glass vase. “I want the works except for coffee, or I’ll be up all night.”
“Then let’s brew a whole pot,” he said with a boyish grin that reminded Arabella of a younger Grady.
“I need my beauty rest.” Arabella laughed, and although there were still unanswered questions between them, she didn’t want to break the spell, so she sat down on a stool. “I didn’t know you were so handy in the kitchen.”
Grady shrugged. “I’m getting better. I still only really excel at breakfast and grilling. Oliver sucks at cooking, although he tries. Jesse is hopeless, but Jimmy, being the artsy one, is an excellent cook.”
“Well, to your credit, I think breakfast is one of the hardest meals to pull off. All the cooking, flipping, toasting in a very narrow time frame. One small mishap and the bacon is burnt to a crisp or the eggs too runny.”
“Sounds like you know from experience.”
“I learned a lot from Granny York. She loved to cook, and I would sit on top of the kitchen table watching her flit around the small kitchen, adding a shake of this or a pinch of that. She cooked more according to taste than from recipes. Oh, but those butter cookies . . . The aroma would fill the house. I adore the smell of vanilla to this day. Calms me down.”
“She was a sweet lady. I’m glad I got the chance to meet her. So, you know your way around the kitchen, huh?”
“I do. I just never had anyone to cook for,” she said, and realized she’d just let him know how very little she’d dated over the years they were apart.
“Well, now you have me,” he said, and held her gaze.
Arabella nodded, wondering if he thought that this day would heal the wounds they’d recently opened. She took a sip of cold orange juice, licking the pulp from her bottom lip.
“And you can cook for me too, whenever you please,” Grady said with a smile. “Or even better, we could prepare meals together.”
Arabella broke the gaze and he turned back to cooking. How could she ever give up . . . this? Was she making loving Grady more complicated than it needed to be? Would this be one concert as promised, or would it turn into what she feared the most?
When Grady put a plate of crispy bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, and hot biscuits dripping with butter in front of her, she had to smile. He’d even put a couple of decorative orange slices on the plate, and for some reason she felt a hot wave of emotion and had to blink back tears. Luckily, he was busy fixing his own food and failed to notice her sudden distress. But then he turned around.
“Are you okay?” He tilted his head in question.
“Sure.” Arabella nodded a bit too hard and reached for the strawberry jam, her favorite. “I guess I’m not used to being pampered. Fussed over.”
“Get used to it,” he said softly.
“This looks delicious. Of course, breakfast for dinner means dinner for breakfast, right?” she joked, but her voice sounded breathless.
“As long as you’re here, eating it with me, I don’t care when or what we consume or how we consume it. Chopsticks, toothpicks, fingers,” he said, and picked up a slice of bacon.
Arabella smiled but then lowered her gaze so he couldn’t see the longing lingering in her eyes.
“Please tell me you’ll stay for the concert. That way you’ll know it’s just one performance.”
“Grady, I don’t want to hold you or your brothers back from something you want to do. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“Again, you’re thinking about something that’s not going to happen. That’s not fair either.”
“You’re right.” Arabella nodded slowly.
He looked at her with such hope. “And my brothers want you here. Come on . . .” he said, and nailed it with that killer smile she couldn’t resist.
“Okay . . . I’ll stay.”
The relief on his face went straight to her heart. He reached over and took her hand. “Thank you. Everything will fall together after we get past the concert. You’ll see.”
Arabella squeezed his hand and then spread jam on her hot, buttered biscuit. “Mmm, I can’t believe you made these.”
“From a can,” he admitted. “I still get a kick out of doing the popping part.”
Arabella laughed. “Oh my gosh, takes me back to childhood.”
“Yeah, we’d fight over it,” he said with a rather forlorn smile, and it hit Arabella again how heartbreaking it was that the brothers had lost both parents. “Mom would usually give in to Oliver, the baby.”
“I’m so glad that you’ve all remained close. Some families just can’t get along and it’s so sad.”
Grady nodded. “Yeah, and I’m lucky that we’re not only close but that we can also have fun together. We might butt hea
ds occasionally, but we’ll always have one another’s backs.”
“I’m glad.” Part of Arabella really did want to see Heartbeat get back together for a tour to show the world what they could do. She’d been blown away by the mature depth of their talent and longed for them to put their mark on the musical world that had changed so much over the past decade. Vegas would welcome them with open arms, and she knew that offers were going to come at them left and right. Oliver would push for a full-fledged reunion. Jimmy, being the sweetie he was, would probably cave in, just to please his brothers and keep the peace. Easygoing Jesse would hop on board too, being a ham who loved attention, even though he never seemed to take fame seriously. She hated to think that Grady would be the holdout because of her . . . which was why she was going to leave the picture right after the concert. They just didn’t know what they were going to be in for after the performance.
“Stop overthinking and I’ll give you the last piece of bacon.” He wiggled the last strip in invitation.
Arabella tried for a bright smile and held out her palm. “Okay, hand it over.”
Grady took a bite first.
“Hey!” Arabella protested.
“The smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, so you don’t get the whole thing,” he joked, but gave her a level look. “Just be patient. Believe in me and the promises I make.”
“Grady, that’s just it. It’s not that I don’t believe in you. I don’t want you to make any promises. I want you to do what’s best for you, your brothers, and the foundation.”
“I already know the answers to all those requests.”
“Grady . . .”
“I promise—oh, sorry.” He pointed to her plate. “Now dig in.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
YOU GOT IT (THE RIGHT STUFF)
Grady’s emotions were skittering all over the map. While he felt the excitement of the concert day finally arriving, the reason for the reunion made him miss his parents. A wave of melancholy swept over him but he tamped it down, not wanting anything to ruin this special day. He could feel the same kind of vibe radiating from his brothers too. And then there was Devin. Heavily caffeinated, he ran around the venue, checking and double-checking everything. When Grady noticed Devin heading his way, Grady looked back at the RV he’d just left, wondering if he could run and hide beneath it or something. Devin waved at him. Damn, too late.
