“Grayson. What…?” She put her hand in front of her face and turned away.
He gently turned her toward him. There wasn’t enough makeup in the world to hide the worry and sadness swimming in her eyes. It didn’t matter if she wanted him around or not. He wasn’t leaving.
“Parker, I didn’t come to go over the drawings. I was concerned about you.”
Her lips parted, as if she was going to respond, but she lowered her eyes in silence.
“I know you’re sad about Bert, but you can talk to me. I’ve dealt with loss like this before.”
She finally met his gaze. “You have?”
“Yes, when I lost my mother. I know how hard this is, and if you’re embarrassed about drinking or the candy, or whatever, don’t be.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes went glassy. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Me too. I really do understand, so if you need a friend, I’m here.”
“I appreciate that,” she said softly. Her cheeks flushed. “And thank you for cleaning up last night. You really didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, it was either that or pick more candy out of Christmas’s paws.”
She smiled, and it loosened the knot in his gut.
“I think I found taffy in his paw this morning.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Sure did. And, um…Christmas?” He cocked a brow, relieved to see her tension easing. “We’ve been emailing for almost a year. How did I not know about your big lovable dog?”
“Sorry. I don’t talk about my life much, and he wasn’t on location with me. He always stays—stayed—with Bert when I was filming.” Her eyes warmed. “Bert gave him to me for Chanukah.”
“You’re Jewish and you named your dog Christmas?”
“I’m not Jewish, but Bert was, so we celebrated Chanukah. One year I said it might be nice to have Christmas. The next day he gave me my boy and said, ‘Now you can have Christmas every day.’” She blinked away the dampness in her eyes.
“I think I would have liked Bert.”
“I…I think he would have liked you, too. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” Just keep talking.
Her lips twisted in an adorable, confused expression. “Did we…?”
“Did we…?”
She rolled her eyes. “Last night. Did we…you know?”
A laugh escaped before he could stop it. “No, we didn’t. Christ, Parker. Don’t you think you’d remember that?”
She lifted one shoulder.
“Trust me, sweetheart. If we had, not only would you remember every blessed moment of it, but you’d think about it for days afterward. Weeks. Maybe even months.”
“Please.” She laughed, and the delightful, feminine sound was like music to his ears.
He couldn’t resist sliding his hand around her waist and teasing her. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”
Her fingers curled around his forearm, and her eyes turned midnight blue. The air between them sizzled, as it had last night. Maybe he hadn’t misinterpreted a damn thing. He fought the urge to lean in and kiss her. She licked her lips seductively, jolting him back to reality. She was worried they’d hooked up and he was about to kiss her? Christ. He didn’t want to be that guy.
He forced himself to step aside before his desires took over. “Last night you mentioned something about meeting a bastard today. Is that where you’re going?”
“I said that?” She crossed her arms, unfolded them, and crossed them again.
“I guess that means yes?”
“I can’t believe I said that.” She leaned against the car. “What else did I say?”
Not wanting her to face any bastard alone, he circled the car and climbed into the passenger seat. “We can talk on the way there. I’ll get a ride back to town from Hunter.”
Her jaw gaped. “I…Grayson. Really?”
Hooking his seat belt, he leaned across the driver’s seat and smiled up at her. “Want me to drive?”
“What?” She looked at the key fob as if she’d forgotten she was holding it. “No. I’m capable of driving. I just…” She let out a frustrated sigh and climbed into the car, eyeing him as she pushed the start button. The engine purred to life. “You’re really coming with me?”
“You’re really meeting a bastard?”
She looked at him as if he already knew the answer and was fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
“Okay, then.” She shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the garage.
“I didn’t mean to scare you last night.”
She clicked the garage remote, closing the doors behind them. “You didn’t scare me.”
“Okay, so honesty obviously isn’t your thing.” He settled into the leather seat as she pulled onto the road. “I didn’t scare you, and you didn’t try to kiss me.”
She gasped. “I did not!”
He lifted a shoulder, and she gritted her teeth. She was too cute not to toy with, at least a little. “Parker?”
“What?” she snapped. “I did not try to kiss you!”
He laughed. “So, want to go with honesty, or...?”
“Why are you even in this car?” A playful smile curved her lips, and he knew she was coming out from under the embarrassment of thinking they’d slept together. Not to mention that he loved knowing she’d thought of him that way. “Honesty! Of course. You’re—”
“Infuriatingly male? I know, you told me that last night.”
She cringed. “Oh God, really?”
“Yup. And trust me, you don’t want that to change.”
“You’re big on the whole ‘trust me’ thing, aren’t you?”
“I’m a pretty trustworthy guy. So, why don’t you tell me where we’re headed?”
She ignored the question, and as they drove by Mayo Beach, she pointed to the gazebo across the street that Grayson had built for the competition last summer, and just beyond, the sculpture his brother Hunter had made.
“You and Hunter are so talented,” she said.
“Thanks. So are you.”
She shot him a confused look. “You’ve seen my movies?”
“Well, only the porn, but that counts, right?”
She punched his arm, and he rubbed it, feigning a pout.
“I never did porn.”
“Now I’m confused. Are we back to the lying game?” he teased.
She punched him again, and he caught her hand and kissed the back of it. He had no idea what had made him do it, but she sighed, and it was just about the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
“You’re—”
He cut her off. “Infuriat—”
“No,” she said with a smile. “I mean, you are that, but I was going to say different.”
“Different? Is that good or bad?”
“The jury’s still out.” She slid him a look he couldn’t read.
“Okay, then.” That was better than a cold shoulder. “Tell me about this bastard you’re going to see.”
“Abe Stein. He’s Bert’s brother and only living relative.” Her tone went serious. “They hadn’t spoken for more than fifty years. And I just…They only had each other, and they let that go. I want to try to, I don’t know. Fix it.”
“Does he know you’re coming?”
She shook her head as she pulled onto Route 6 and headed toward Brewster.
“I was afraid he might not see me. He might not even know Bert passed away, so there’s that little bit of heartache I get to dole out. I mean, Bert was pretty well-known in the photography world, so there was a good amount of press when…”
“Then he probably knows.” He was glad he’d come with her. A surprise visit with Bert’s estranged brother sounded like trouble in the making. “What makes you think he wants to fix whatever it is you’re trying to fix?”
“I’m pretty sure he won’t. Bert tried to reconcile with him, and Abe never gave him the time of day. He returned every letter Bert ever sent. But that didn’
t stop Bert from hoping they’d work through it one day, and that made it feel important to me. Well, that and the fact that Bert left me a key to his safe-deposit box containing the returned letters, a few pictures, and a single piece of paper with the address of the resort where his brother is living. I didn’t realize the address was for Ocean Edge Resort until later, when I searched it online, and then it took several phone calls to put the pieces together and figure out what it meant. After throwing Bert’s name around to the staff and the manager, Abe’s name finally came up, and the pieces fell into place. But Bert must have wanted me to have all that for a reason, right?”
“I don’t know about that, Parker. Maybe he just left you the letters because it sounds like you were the closest thing he had to family. Do you know anything else about Abe?”
“Just that he’s loaded, and Bert described him as a self-righteous, self-absorbed bastard who swindled their father out of his company and drove his own wife and daughter away years ago.”
“Seriously? You must be a glutton for punishment. Are you sure you want to do this?”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Bert once told me that I reminded him of his niece. He trusted me with this for a reason. I have to do it.”
Like hell. He wasn’t so sure he liked this Bert guy anymore. What kind of man leaves a woman a trail of meat to a hungry lion? Change of plans. Work could wait. He wasn’t about to let her see this guy alone. “Then I’ll go see him with you.”
“Grayson.” Her shoulders dropped.
He covered her hand with his. “We both know I’m infuriatingly male, so don’t even try to dissuade me. This is what friends do. They support one another, through tequila, tears, and curmudgeonly old bastards.”
Her brows knitted. “I’m not really used to friends like that. You don’t have to.”
“I want to. End of discussion.”
She opened her mouth, and he was sure she was going to make a remark about his male attitude, so he cut her off. “And you’re enticingly female. Deal with it.”
She pulled into the gated community of Ocean Edge Resort and Golf Club, magnifying the difference between the circles in which they traveled. Parker sat up straighter, drew her shoulders back, and inhaled deeply, blowing it out slowly. All of the worry and teasing he’d seen in her eyes slipped away, replaced with a mask of pleasant calm as she morphed into the confident Parker Collins the world knew and loved right before his eyes.
He wondered if she ever got lost between who she really was and the woman she was expected to be.
Chapter Three
PARKER TOSSED HER hat into the backseat and grabbed her bag, trying to ignore the perplexed look in Grayson’s dark eyes. At least that look made it easier for her to climb back into her actress armor, unlike the warm, caring look he’d been giving her that made her think it was okay to let her guard down and feel like a normal, grieving, twenty-eight-year old. Not that any of his looks in between caring and perplexed made anything about being near him easy. He was kind, caring, tough, and stubborn, and she needed a will of steel to battle her mounting attraction to him.
As she stepped from the car she stole another glance. His black shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. His low-slung jeans looked like old favorites, worn in the knees and frayed at the edges. Everything about him said he was comfortable in his own skin. She’d been that way once. Even when she’d been moving from house to house in foster care, she’d been comfortable with who she was as a person. But that was before she’d found fame. She no longer had the luxury of being herself, and she wasn’t sure she knew who the famous Parker Collins really was. But she’d been blessed with a life others would kill for, and she needed to get out of her selfish head and get on with what she came here to do.
She met Grayson’s assessing gaze, which felt hot and sexy and made her feel a little dangerous. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a dangerous type of girl. She was a play-by-the-rules, do-what-she-was-told kind of girl, as evident by everything in her life…besides last night.
She should probably warn Grayson, or at least offer an explanation about running hot and cold and the way she’d have to act while she was out in public, but what could she say? I can’t risk bad press, and I’m trying to hold my shit together long enough to get through this terrible, awful meeting? That would make her look like a fake. She already felt that way most of the time. She didn’t need him to know it.
The impressive resort, expensive cars, and the smartly dressed valet heading their way were reminders of why she’d climbed out of her grief-induced horror-movie-watching, junk-food-eating stupor this morning. Parker knew how to play this game well, so she did what she did best and shifted her eyes away from Grayson, focusing on the valet.
Sometimes she hated being a celebrity.
Most of the time.
Almost always.
Especially right now.
“Thank you,” she said, handing the valet her key fob, along with a few large bills.
Grayson stepped closer, warmth returning to his dark eyes as he searched hers. “Are you okay?”
No. I’m in serious need of a hug, and a drink, and a mountain of chocolate. I need Bert, too. Her heart squeezed at the thought. Can you please bring him back? Just long enough for me to say goodbye and hug him one last time?
Pushing all those truths aside, she said, “Yes. Thank you,” too curtly for his kindness, and she hated herself for it. But being Parker under these circumstances took effort.
He held her stare for a few silent beats and placed his hand on her hip. “You sure?”
She was used to being pawed at and hit on, but no one touched her like this—as if they cared and didn’t need permission to do so. She realized that after last night, he’d seen more of the real her than anyone else ever had, other than Bert. Grayson had gotten a glimpse of Polly.
Fighting the urge to step into his arms, she said, “Yes. Thank you.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the resort, his hand slipping from her hip. She felt better when he was touching her, but she held her head up high, ready to take on her most torturous role yet.
Parker had access to private beaches, elite clubs, daily spa treatments, and just about anything she could ever want, in any city she visited. But she’d never felt comfortable in them, and no amount of money or celebrity could give her what she truly craved: the love and security of family. Bert had been her family, but now…
She pushed those thoughts aside, feeling like she’d spent her life pushing things aside, as they crossed the marble floor on the way to the elevators. She felt the eyes of several people on her. She’d never get used to the icy chill those first seconds of recognition brought with them, reminders to be on alert, ready for anything from people seeking autographs and pictures to handsy men and jealous women.
Relief came when the elevator arrived and the doors closed behind them. Short-lived relief. Grayson’s big body made the confined space seem even smaller. He smelled like sand and surf and sinful pleasures, and his scent was permeating her skin, bedding down in her nasal cavities. And he was standing too close, making it harder to remember a single reason why she should fight her attraction to him.
As if she wasn’t nervous enough about meeting Abe?
He touched her hip again, sending sparks through her veins and holding her transfixed with his penetrating gaze. He was clean-shaven, which made her thoughts travel to places they shouldn’t, like wondering what his smooth cheeks would feel like against her inner thighs.
“Hey,” he said with a voice as enticing as melted chocolate. “You sure you’re okay? It’s just us in here. You can relax.”
Right. With your sexy voice making me want you and my brain telling me it’s wrong for no apparent reason at all and a bastard waiting a few floors up?
“Just don’t judge me, okay? Just us or not, I can’t risk bad press, which sucks, but it’s part of my life.” Why was she snapping at him? It wasn’t his fault she want
ed him.
His brow wrinkled. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about who you have to be, or how you have to act for anyone else. I respect your career, and I’ll do what I can to protect your image or whatever it is you’re worried about. But I only care that you’re okay with how you feel inside, for yourself, not for anyone else’s sake.”
How can I be okay? I’m nowhere near okay. Especially when you say something so caring and sweet and romantic it makes me want to climb into your arms and stay there for a month. She swallowed that confession and said, “I’m fine, and I am relaxed.”
His eyes narrowed, and he stepped distractingly closer. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her against his hard body. He lowered his face until she could feel his hot breath on her lips. Holy mother of God, she couldn’t breathe.
“What…?”
“Helping you relax,” he said with a sinful curve to his lips before he slanted his beautiful mouth over hers in a deep, sensual kiss.
The first stroke of his tongue took her from shocked to whoa, this is nice. The next catapulted her from nice to she had no idea what, because her brain stopped functioning. His lips were soft, the kiss was hard, and he explored her mouth like he owned it, sending spirals of ecstasy whizzing through her. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be kissed for real, not as part of a scene, and oh Lord, did she want more. She went up on her toes, trying to intensify the kiss, completely unaware that the elevator had come to a stop on Abe’s floor. Grayson stepped back, his hand still a searing heat at her waist.
“Better?” Calm. Cool. Collected.
So unfair.
She lifted a hand to her tingling lips. “Mm-hm.”
As the doors began to close, he held them open. She wished he’d let them close and would kiss her again. He brushed the pad of his thumb just below her lower lip, probably fixing the lipstick his incredible mouth had smudged. She had the crazy urge to lick his thumb. To pull it into her mouth and tease it with her tongue.
Seaside Lovers: Grayson Lacroux (Love in Bloom: Seaside Summers) Page 3
