Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1)

by Nikki Belaire

  At a knock on the door, Shae jumps up and hugs her. “Thank you. You’re always here when I need you.”

  Carrie smiles, but pushes her back. “Stop it or you’ll mess up your hair.” The expression fades as she turns serious. “It’s the first time since Evan you’ve even thought about giving someone a chance. I just want to see you happy.”

  Shae nods before following the waiting PA out of the room.

  * * * *

  Her heart dances in her chest at Nick waiting for her outside the locker room. Their first chance to talk without Jason playing big brother and hovering over them. In two quick steps, he’s in front of her, brushing her cheek with his lips. “I missed you yesterday.”

  Tingles radiate through her body from his touch and his words. “I had something for work.”

  “Let me take you out for breakfast.”

  She nods and accepts his hand. Outside, the man she met at his house stands by the Jeep.

  “You remember Max?”

  She returns the man’s smile. “Of course. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “You too.”

  Max climbs in the back while Nick steps behind her to lift her up. She shakes her head. “I’m much better now, thank you.”

  She fights the urge to lean back against his chest while his fingers linger on her waist and his breath tickles her ear. “Good.”

  Nick parks in front of a white stucco building covered with a red and yellow vinyl banner announcing the grand opening of Soteria. Small vases of wildflowers decorate the teak tables surrounding the exterior. Cars snake around the empty parking lot, filling the drive-through line beyond capacity.

  They mull over the menu, hand-written on a huge chalkboard hanging behind the counter. Two teenage girls hustle back and forth between the espresso machine and the drive-through window. A dour-faced boy slowly removes trays of oversize muffins from a free-standing oven and places them on a metal serving tray covering half the counter.

  As Shae places her order, the girl’s eyes widen in recognition. Dread coils in her stomach. Nick seems indifferent to her celebrity, yet fan interactions can become overwhelming. He may hate it as much as Evan did.

  The girl rushes to her co-worker and whispers while they work. The other girl’s head flies up, and she looks at Shae. Making eye contact, she quickly drops her gaze and nods to her friend.

  Nick leans down to her, a mischievous grin tugging on his lips. “I think those girls are hot for me.”

  An unexpected yet sweet response to the craziness surrounding her life, giving her freedom from the spotlight for a little bit. She elbows him in the ribs, stifling her laugh. “Don’t be conceited. Maybe it’s Max.”

  Pretending to wince, he joins in her laugher. “Touché.”

  Warmth fills her body from his fingers trailing up and down her back as they wait for their drinks. She concentrates on the skilled hands of the barista expertly whipping milk into foam, trying to distract herself from his touch.

  Nick lets her lead the way, and she chooses a spot in the back corner. Three chairs, two zebra stripped and one pink, surround a table inlaid with a black and pink checkerboard. She takes a small bite of her parfait as Max sits down.

  “Next time, I’m picking the place. I need real food. I can’t make it on muffins and yogurt.”

  Nick pats him on the shoulder. “Okay, Max, next time we’ll go out for bacon and eggs.”

  “Don’t forget the sausage, biscuits, and omelets.”

  Her mouth begins to water thinking about it. “What about pancakes or French toast?”

  Max points an approving finger at her. “Definitely. Maybe even crepes.”

  A flash lights up behind the counter. One of the girls shoves a phone in her pocket, her ponytail swinging as she pretends to busy herself with stacking mugs. A streak of red runs up her exposed neck to the tops of her ears, a symbol of her guilt.

  Shae’s stomach drops as her world ruins their breakfast. “Sorry, guys. Your picture may show up on some gossip website in the next few days.”

  Max glances at the girls while they whisper. “I don’t know how you do it. Doesn’t it piss you off being watched all the time?”

  She shrugs her shoulders as she stirs her fruit cup. It’s wrong to complain about the downside of fame when she’s enjoyed so many benefits from it too. “I’m used to it, for the most part. Fans usually just want a picture or an autograph. The paparazzi can be pretty aggressive sometimes, though. I don’t like feeling stalked.”

  Nick reaches out and takes her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “You don’t have to put up with that.”

  “Yeah, who’s your security guy?” Max leans in closer to her. “I can talk to him about providing you with better protection. You shouldn’t have to be afraid.”

  Their protectiveness makes her heart flip-flop. “Thank you, but I’m okay. I stick with places they can’t bother me, like the gym, and use bodyguards when I need them. It’s fine.”

  Max frowns in confusion. “Why can’t they bother you at the gym?”

  “Jason legally made it a members-only club, so they can’t come on the property. Now, I can come and go in peace. I know it’s not fancy, but it’s a haven for me.”

  Swallowing a bite of muffin, Nick shakes his head. “I didn’t realize Jason owned it.”

  “Yes, that’s what JET stands for—Jason Edward Tyler.” She laughs, a reminder of her friend’s crush. “It’s also for Tom Cruise in Top Gun. He loves Tom Cruise.”

  Nick winks at her with an odd expression she can't quite decipher. “He loves you too, probably more than you know.” He squeezes her hand, making her chest flutter. “What are your plans for today?”

  “Actually, I don’t have any, and it feels wonderful. I was gone so long on tour, it’s nice to stay home. I’m kind of a nerd that way.”

  Max coughs before clearing his throat. “I don’t think anyone would call you a nerd.”

  Despite Team Shae’s best efforts, she can’t uphold the party girl image they like to portray. The rumors of her closing down the clubs, leaving with the hottest actor of the moment, sells more records than the truth. Yet intensifies her guilt for the young girls who think it’s cool and try to emulate something that’s not even real.

  “I mean, I don’t really go out much or anything. Carrie loves to dance and tries to drag me along. But, I’m just as happy staying home, watching movies and eating popcorn.”

  Having already wolfed down his muffin and yogurt, Max eyes the menu board before turning back to her. “So, that’s the real life of a pop star? Hanging out at home watching movies?”

  She leans forward and whispers, “Yes. Please don’t sell my secrets to the media.”

  Crossing his heart, Max winks at her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”

  They finish eating and are walking out when Max suddenly stops. “It’s Juan.”

  Nick steps in front of her as two men approach them, one about two feet behind the other. Both have dark hair and caramel skin. A crescent-shaped scar mars the taller one’s left cheek, giving the appearance of a pumpkin carving gone wrong.

  The other man stands so close to Nick, she suppresses a cough from his musky cologne. Humorless brown eyes bore into Nick, conflicting with the fake smile crossing his lips. He spreads his arms in front of him, feigning disbelief. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

  “It’s not a coincidence, Juan. What do you want?” Nick’s body stiffens, his voice conveying a hardness she’s never heard before. Her heart constricts at his reaction to the men, his laid-back demeanor vanishing at the confrontation.

  “You’re so rude. Can’t we have a civil conversation? Discuss some important business?” He motions to Shae. “It won’t take long. I know you don’t want to keep your beautiful friend waiting.”

  “This isn’t the time or the place. If you want something, call my secretary and make an appointment.”

  “You have a debt to pay for what you did
to my brother.” Her stomach churns at the tension boiling between them. Juan’s eyes flash with anger, his voice hissing. “I have offered to work with you. If you refuse, you leave me no choice. I have to get your attention one way or the other.”

  She flinches as Juan reaches out as if to touch her hair. Nick grabs his arm and slams him against the condiment table. A silver pitcher topples over, with drops of milk forming a small puddle. Packets of sweetener spill out like a rainbow waterfall over the edge, with two yellow ones left hanging precariously. Max points a gun at Juan’s head before the other bodyguard gets his jacket open. “Fall back, or you’ll regret it.”

  Everything is silent except for the beep of the oven timer, warning the now-scared boy his muffins are done.

  Nick leans forward a few inches from Juan’s face. “You’ve got my attention in a way you don’t want. Now, I suggest you get the fuck out of here before things go real bad for you.”

  As he loosens his grip, Juan jerks away. His gaze moves to Shae as he smoothes down his clothes. “This isn’t over.” He storms out of the coffee house with his bodyguard behind him.

  She lets out the breath she’s been holding. Nick crouches down, his face even with hers, his eyes burning with worry as he cups her face. “Are you okay?”

  No, but she nods anyway, her chest throbbing from her racing heart.

  Max turns to the stunned kids. “Everything’s fine. Just a misunderstanding.” None of them respond, shock paralyzing their bodies and their voices. He places the pitcher upright and bends down to scoop up the packets, dropping them in the trash. “No harm done.” He slowly pulls out his wallet and removes several one hundred dollar bills, putting them in the tip jar.

  Unaware she’s shaking until Nick takes her hand, she grips his arm as he leads her outside.

  “Ready?”

  Nick puts the Jeep in gear after Max hops in the back and pulls out of the parking lot without waiting for her to answer.

  Chapter Three

  Sitting next to Nick on one of the beige leather sofas in his living room, Shae is reminded of what an imposing man he is. How his large hand engulfs her cheek as he caresses it, his long fingers brushing against her hair. How the heat radiating from his thick, muscular body warms her as she wraps her arms around herself, trying to stop the trembling.

  His eyes search hers, his face tight with worry. “Are you okay?”

  Maybe she’s foolish not to be afraid of him. Not to be frightened of him and his gun-brandishing bodyguard who calmly deflect the threats against them, easily reversing their roles from victims to aggressors. Then doling out cash afterward in recompense for the shock of being unwitting spectators to their impromptu drama.

  Yet, his gentleness with her never falters. Fierce and protective, he seems to make her safety his only priority, even in the midst of confrontation. Never any doubt regarding his concern for her. No, she doesn’t fear him. It’s his life beyond the two of them that scares her.

  She lowers her head, breaking the physical connection between them. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into coming here.” With shaking hands, she smoothes the wrinkles in her black and pink striped skirt. Unable to face his agonized expression, she stares at her dress. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this. Can you please take me back to my car?”

  He lays his hands on top of hers, preventing them from rubbing the fabric, attempting to erode her decision to leave. “If that’s what you want. But I was hoping we could talk some more.”

  Memories of the altercation play on a continuous loop in her mind. The images revealing a truth she pretended to ignore, reality she wanted to disregard as easily as the gossip swirling around herself. She takes a few deep breaths, failing to clear the confusion in her head. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

  He curls his fingers over hers. “If you leave, I’ll never see you again. I can’t let that happen.”

  Trying to ignore the longing behind his words, she struggles to minimize the mutual desire she feels for him. “Why not? We just met a week ago. We don’t even really know each other.”

  “That’s not true.”

  A familiar twinge of disappointment wells up in her chest—a reminder of all the broken connections after the illusion of her disintegrates. She blows out a deep sigh. “Everyone thinks they know me from magazines and gossip sites. It’s just an image for publicity. I’m not that person.” Before he can respond, she stands up and walks toward the foyer. “I need to go.”

  “I know the real you.” The tenderness in his voice forces her to pause. This is the Nick she knows, not the one from the restaurant. The man who makes her think crazy things like this could be real, that the two of them might actually have a chance. “How your cheeks turn pink when you feel shy. How you’re secretly competitive and try to one-up me when we work out. The way you’re always thinking about dessert.”

  He stands behind her, close enough his breath warms her neck, his skin skimming hers, stirring an ache for him to wrap his arms around her and eliminate all of her uncertainty. “I know you’ve been hurt before, and you’re scared it’s going to happen again.”

  She whips around to face him, heat creeping up her cheeks flamed from both accuracy and embarrassment. “Why do you think that?”

  “Men would kill to be with a woman like you. You could have anyone you want. You’re alone because you choose to be.”

  “That’s not…” She wraps her arms around her waist, attempting to shield herself from the unexpected memories his words trigger. Nick isn’t Evan. Apparent from the beginning, yet she’s terrified it will end the same way. “It’s complicated.”

  “Not for me. I know you’re sweet and gentle and bring me a feeling of peace I’ve never experienced before. Whenever I’m with you, nothing else matters.” He tucks a piece of loose hair behind her ear. “When I’m not with you, you’re all I think about. I’m falling in love with you.”

  The bouncing balloon in her chest from his heartfelt admission quickly deflates from his declaration of love, a painful reminder of the heartbreak she’s endured. “Please don’t say that.”

  “Since the first moment I saw you, I’ve wanted to be with you. I can’t get you out of my head.” His fingertips slide under her chin, lifting her face to meet his. “I know you feel it too.”

  “All I feel right now is fear.”

  His eyes lock with hers, blazing with conviction. “Don’t be afraid. I swear I’ll never hurt you.”

  His voice conveys a promise she yearns to be true. Yet doubt hums through her mind, guilt from her own broken assurances fueling her racing heart. “After this morning, I don’t know what to believe.”

  “If it hadn’t happened, would you want to be with me?”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t pretend it didn’t.”

  “I’m not asking you to. All I want is for you to be honest with me and yourself about your feelings.”

  The answer to his straightforward request scares her the most. Lying to herself hurts them both, yet protects her heart.

  “If you don’t want to be with me, I’ll walk away like we never met. But, if you feel even a tenth of what I feel, you have to give me a chance.”

  “What if it’s not enough?” She squeezes his corded arms, the muscles twitching under her fingers. “You’re so calm. Is this how you live all the time?”

  “No. Juan won’t accept the fact that I don’t want to be in business with him. He’s been a growing problem for the last few weeks. I didn’t realize until now how unstable he is.”

  “What about the gun? Max had a gun pointed at Juan’s head.”

  The shrug of his shoulders is almost imperceptible, the steadiness of his voice unwavering. “He was protecting us.”

  Matter of fact. Cut and dry. A forgone conclusion about the need for armed protection, and it’s not even the most terrifying part. Her voice cracks as she reveals her bigger worry. “What did you do to his brother?”

&
nbsp; “Nothing. He worked for me. He was a hothead and made some stupid mistakes. He ended up in jail and was killed. Juan blames me, but he brought it on himself. ”

  Her mouth opens, but the words won’t come. The rage on his face was too vivid to ignore. His need to protect her fuels a fury in him she struggles to comprehend.

  “What is it?”

  Fear steals her breath, and she can only whisper. “You were so angry.”

  “Juan was trying to…” He closes his eyes and grimaces. “Touch you. I couldn’t let that happen.” He shakes his head. “Fuck, what am I doing?” His face falls slack, his eyes darkening with defeat. “Jason’s right. I need to leave you alone.”

  Cold chills run through her body at the realization of her friend’s broken promise. “What are you talking about? What did he say?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” With a deep sigh, he steps back. “You don’t belong with me. I’ll have Max take you back to your car.”

  She closes her eyes, willing away the growing ache in her heart. Forcing herself to return to her accepted fate of being alone. “I’m sorry we couldn’t—”

  “I know I should let you go, but I can’t.” He pulls her against him and whispers into her hair, “Please don’t leave.”

  The rawness of his plea exposes a vulnerability in him she never expected. Its simplicity revealing the purity of his emotion. He cradles her head as she talks into his chest. “I feel out of control. Everything’s moving too fast.”

  “I promise to take things slower. I’ll do anything to make you stay.”

  The faint ticking of the mantel clock provides the only proof time passes. Wrapped in his arms, her trembling stops, her body softens as the tension releases. This is where she wants to be, no matter how wrong it is. “You’re tenacious. I know that about you.”

  He laughs before kissing the top of her head. “Oh, yeah? What else do you know?”

  A small vibration pulsates between their bodies before she can respond. He ignores the chirping phone, drawing her tighter against him. She lifts her head and smiles back at him. “If you don’t answer it, Max will just come for you.”