“Because she’s on her third divorce?”
Three marriages? He hadn’t exactly kept up with Fallon. “I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be, either.”
“Is this why Gigi is so protective? Did something happen with a woman in the past?”
Self-confession time. He had a stupid past with women. “A few somethings, actually. About a year ago I dated an actress.”
“I think I saw a photo of you together in one of those tabloids.”
“No doubt. There were quite a few of them. Every time we’d go out paparazzi would appear out of nowhere. Gigi began to get suspicious and sure enough, we found out every time we had plans to go out my ex would call them so she could be sure they’d be there.”
“She’d call the photographers?”
“She’d give them the names and places we’d be. Little did I know she was trying to resuscitate a flagging career. Trying to stay relevant.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You’re kidding. So she was just using you?”
“Don’t look so surprised. But it’s one of the reasons Gigi is protective. The other one is more complicated. ”
Brooke’s eyes were fixated on his, as if begging him to say more, even as he wondered if the whole thing made him look like a first class idiot. “And?”
He guessed it was his cue to spill his guts. “And there was the time I was engaged.”
Brooke blinked. “Oh. I didn’t know you’d been engaged before.”
“Not my proudest moment. I didn’t know her very well, which of course was my own fault. She told me she was pregnant, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to ask her to marry me.”
Brooke studied the tablecloth. “Did you love her?”
“No.” He was no stranger to love, having plenty of it all his life. Love from his mother, grandfather, brothers, friends, faithful fans and colleagues. He’d always expected when he did fall in love it would be a little something like the deep love he had for his family, but it hadn’t ever happened. Plenty of lust, epic fails on love.
The waiter and Giancarlo appeared with plates of appetizers they likely wouldn’t finish in this lifetime, let alone tonight.
“So you were going to marry someone you didn’t love?” Brooke asked after they’d left.
“I was willing to try to make it work for the sake of the child, but she wasn’t ever pregnant. Faked the whole thing. Fortunately, she walked away with a promise not to talk about it for a nice sum of money.”
“Geez. I feel like I have to apologize for my gender .”
“I wish it had been the only time someone tried the fake baby angle. Problem was I’d never slept with any of those other women. I’d like to think I’m good, but damn, I’m not that good.”
Brooke smiled. “I seem to remember some pretty big jock scandals made Look Here! magazine.”
“Everything they’ve ever printed about me is a bold-faced lie. Please don’t tell me you read it.”
“It depends on how long the line is at the supermarket.”
“Good answer. I’ve been luckier than most, or maybe it is because I have Gigi. But I’ve never been accused of a crime.” Even when allegations were proven to be false, for too many of his colleagues the stain remained. Mom and Pop wouldn’t have been able to bear it.
“Suddenly Gigi is sounding rather compassionate. If it were me, those women wouldn’t be getting settlements. They’d be getting sentences.”
“No mercy?” He rather enjoyed the same fierceness she’d once displayed for the whales and any other endangered species fixed on him. Brooke the fighter turned him on. She always had, except for when she pissed him off.
The waiter appeared and made a show of filling water glasses. “Hey man, before you leave can I have an autograph?”
“Sure.” Billy said, and took the man’s pen.
“It’s great you don’t charge for them like everyone else does,” the waiter said.
Brooke stood up. “I need to talk to Giancarlo anyway.”
He signed the autograph made out to Carlos and watched out of the corner of his eye as Brooke walked over to Giancarlo. Not like he should be jealous of a man who looked old enough to be Brooke’s father. He needed to get a grip if that were the case.
He wasn’t a jealous man, but right now he wished Giancarlo wasn’t standing quite so close to Brooke. Their conversation piqued his interest when Giancarlo put a hand to his chest for a moment as if he’d just heard amazing news. Then he nodded, and wrote something on a piece of paper.
Brooke rejoined Billy at the booth. “Ready?”
He stood, and waved to Giancarlo as he rested his hand on the small of Brooke’s back. “What was that all about?”
Brooke looked up at him and seemed to hesitate. “I gave him my phone number. You know, so he could call me personally when he wants more wine cases.”
“Right.” Billy kept walking, bothered more by every step.
Part of his media training had involved spotting the tell, the language of liars. Over the years, he’d fine-tuned it. He didn’t know why, and could only hazard a guess as to why Brooke Miller had just lied to him.
Chapter 12
Why hadn’t Brooke thought of this before? Giancarlo would be the perfect date for Eileen. Even with all the distractions tonight, Brooke couldn’t ignore the obvious.
Giancarlo was a family man, a kind man, a generous man, and a man who should be the spokesperson for handsome older men. Maybe she should have told Billy the entire truth. She hadn’t just given Giancarlo her personal cellphone number for business purposes, but so that she could arrange a meeting between him and Eileen. The rest would be up to them.
Of course, eventually she’d tell Billy, but the timing had to be right. First it was up to Eileen to share that information with her son. She couldn’t wait to call Eileen and talk up Giancarlo. She’d been patient, and now Brooke had a winner behind door number one.
“What are you thinking about? Not still thinking about the blog?” Billy asked as he slid the key in the ignition.
Well, she hadn’t been but now her attention was right back on that subject. So many hurdles to overcome. Life should be easier. “What will Gigi do when she finds out about it?”
“Who cares?”
“I do. She’ll get to be right. She didn’t believe it when we told her we weren’t interested in each other.”
“And now?”
She’d walked right into that one. Was he going to make her say it out loud? Make her say how she thought about making love to him every night and sometimes during the day? What it would feel like to be under, or on top of, Billy Turlock? Not that she was picky about the position.
But she didn’t want to be another woman in his long list of conquests. No, it didn’t matter any longer what anyone else thought. Her opinion was the only one that mattered. And she didn’t want to be added to the list. Period.
“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re attracted to each other.” She folded her arms across her chest and tried not to look at him as she said the words. Didn’t want to see his smug little grin.
“I agree.”
“But I’m not going to sleep with you, Billy. I don’t want to be one of your many female conquests.” There. She’d said it, and let the chips fly where they may.
The car veered off the highway so quickly she thought they’d had a flat tire. Billy turned to her. “Dammit, Brooke, is that what you think of me?”
Fantastic. Pissed-off Billy was even sexier than always-smiling Billy. She knew this, and still she’d poked the bear. “C’mon, I—”
“I thought I told you not to believe what you read. I didn’t date half of the women who claimed I did.”
“But even if you dated half of them—”
“Look, I have a past. It’s not nearly as illustrious as the rumors. But this is different, you and me.”
“No, it’s not. I’m just someone you want now because you never had me.” Back in high school, there’d b
een that undercurrent between them. That nameless something that led to the first and only time they’d kissed in the school parking lot. If they’d been any older, and she’d been any more experienced, she was certain it would have led to the back seat. And she’d have been one of many.
“Are you telling me what I want?” He asked through gritted teeth.
She was pretty sure the answer should be no, so she went for the safety of a non-answer. “I’m not an idiot.”
Billy didn’t say another word as he veered back onto the road. They drove in a tense silence all the way to the vineyard, and Brooke jumped out of the car before he could open the door for her. She nearly ran to her cottage and opened the door.
She didn’t need this. Another pissed-off man. Turned out she had a certain talent for it with Billy. Still, she hadn’t seen him this angry in a while. Or ever.
And now she’d had an argument with her employer, or non-employer as he was calling himself these days. Regardless, he owned this place and she’d insulted him. Might as well have called him a man-whore playboy.
Crap.
She went to the fridge and poured herself a chilled glass of Mirassu Chardonnay, her guilty pleasure. Maybe she should apologize, but she’d wait until tomorrow when he’d cooled down. Then she’d calmly explain her position. They both needed a few hours to calm down, and see reason. This thing between them couldn’t happen for a lot of reasons, the main one being that they were both too explosive, and this thing between them, whatever it was, far too out of control.
The sudden loud banging on her front door startled her enough to spill a little wine.
“Brooke! Open the door! We need to talk.”
Great. Talk now? She didn’t want to get in a yelling match, but she opened the door and moved aside to let Alpha Boy in.
“Can we talk tomorrow when we’re both calmer?” She was now apparently the voice of reason, a frightening fact.
“No. We’re going to talk now.” He reached for his wallet, pulled it out of his back pocket and handed her a weathered card.
She glanced down to see Billy Turlock’s official membership card to the Save the Whales Foundation. A long-expired membership. She held it up. “This is expired.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“Don’t you ever clean your wallet out? Why would you carry an expired card around in it?”
“Brooke.” He said her name on the edge of a breath, sounding a little exasperated.
She met his eyes, now so warm and with no hint of anger left in them. A sudden thought rose to the surface, but it couldn’t be true. “Is this the same—?”
“The one you gave me when I made the donation.”
“Ten years ago? And you still have it?” She remembered that day. One more cause, one additional signature. Most of the jocks and cheerleaders had passed by and ignored her table and banner at lunch time. But not Billy. He’d stopped and signed the petition. It had entitled him to a year’s free membership. She still remembered the smile on his face when she’d handed him the card.
“Why do you think I still have it?” He asked softly.
She gazed into his eyes. Eyes that were telling her things she was afraid to believe. “I don’t know.”
“If you think about it, you know the answer.”
Instead of believing what she wanted to believe, her mind took her back to a bad memory. “You made me believe for once that maybe we could be friends, and left, like I was nothing. You never even said goodbye.”
He pulled her into his arms, that crushing, bone melting feeling coming back to her in waves. “I didn’t say goodbye because I couldn’t look in your eyes and tell you I wasn’t going to take the scholarship to Chicago. I was a chicken shit kid, and I was running in the other direction from all the things you made me feel. It was easier to leave without saying goodbye to you. I’m sorry.”
Her arms came up around his neck. “Why is it you always do this to me? I’m shaking. You’re scaring me.”
“You’re not afraid of anything but the dark, and we can keep all the lights on if you’d like.” He bent to kiss the softness under her earlobe, and she shivered.
She was afraid of a lot more than the dark right now. Afraid she was going to lose even more than her heart to this man. Maybe even her soul.
“I want you so much, and I don’t know how to stop wanting you.” She’d tried and failed miserably every time.
On the outside, they didn’t match. But their hearts, somehow, fit together.
“Stop trying.” His mouth came down on hers and she welcomed him inside, opening up to him like a flower.
After all this time, they would finally be together. The teenage jock and the decidedly teenage un-jock. But she didn’t want to think about that not now. Best not to think at all. There was only Billy, and his beautiful eyes and smile. His warm skin and strong heartbeat thudding against the pads of her fingers as she touched him. Everywhere.
They were connecting the dots again. He was the map and she was the road. She hoped she would survive the ride.
*****
They left a trail of clothes from the kitchen to her bedroom, and Brooke discovered jocks didn’t limit their stamina to the playing field. Even with all her disdain for organized sports, she couldn’t deny this was a nice perk.
After all the years dreaming and fantasizing, the reality managed to top her wildest fantasies. Billy could be rough and gentle, fast and slow— no wonder her head was spinning. She’d gripped his shoulders as every deep and powerful thrust drilled into her heart.
Lying next to him now Brooke slept fitfully, and not only because of Billy’s naked proximity. But simply because everything had changed.
She glanced at Billy, still asleep, his long eyelashes and peaceful expression making him look achingly vulnerable. He lay on his side, one arm splayed over her. Billy Turlock, in her bed. Billy, the man she couldn’t help but want even if her head knew better. She softly traced the edges of a large scar on his left shoulder, and wondered exactly how many surgeries had taken place in the name of baseball. She’d heard many people suffer for their art, but she hadn’t realized that a jock could suffer for his sport. The scar made it clear some amount of suffering had occurred.
How is it that she hadn’t noticed the man’s level of hotness before last night? Well, okay, she had because she wasn’t blind. She could appreciate a red sunset, but it didn’t mean she wanted to make love to it.
Long-haired guys with scruffy beards? Definitely the way to go. She should have switched types a long time ago. Washboard abs? Check. Strong and defined biceps? Uh-huh, check. Well, no point in staring. She’d already taken a full accounting and any more ogling was plain indulgent. She should let the man sleep. She’d definitely worked him out.
Brooke managed to slip out from under his arm and out of bed, throw her good robe on this time and not the ratty one. She softly closed the door to her bedroom and padded into the kitchen to check the time. It was eight o’clock in the morning. She and Billy had made love on and off for hours. Like they were trying to make up for lost time.
The coffee had started to percolate when she heard the bedroom door open and turned to find Billy framed in the doorway. Wearing nothing but a smile.
“Come here.” His morning voice sounded low and throaty, and the look in his eyes left no doubt as to what he wanted.
“I’m making coffee.”
“That can wait. I can’t.”
From the looks of a particular part of his anatomy, that much was obvious. Resistance was futile. She took his outstretched hand and followed him back to bed where he disposed of her robe like a magician. She let him push her back on the bed and he rolled on top of her.
“Billy, you’re in my bed.” This moment seemed surreal, as though she were walking around in a living and breathing fantasy.
His long dark hair fell around his face as he looked down at her. “Brooke, you’re in my arms.”
She reached up and threaded her f
ingers into that silky hair. Funny thing, the beard hadn’t even itched her at all. It only seemed to heighten her sensations. “You better not think I’m easy.”
“Ten years isn’t easy.” He kissed the hollow of her neck.
“Ten years and two months.”
“I stand corrected.”
“And yes, I will go out on a date with you.”
Billy’s face split with a grin. “Thanks, babe.”
“No, thank you.”
“Mmmmm. You taste so good,” Billy said, his lips grazing her nipple.
“Like what?” Brooke moaned.
“Like a woman. My woman.”
Brooke drew in a sharp breath. Not only because of the words that hit her heart with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but also because of what Billy could do with his mouth.
She heard the knock before Billy seemed to, since he was otherwise occupied. “Did you hear that?”
More rapping at her front door.
Billy raised up on one elbow. “We should punish that person’s lousy sense of timing by ignoring them.”
“Billy? Brooke? Are you in there?” There was no mistaking the shrill voice of Gigi. “Billy! Did you forget our meeting?”
Brooke froze. “Shit. It’s Cruella.”
“Calm down,” Billy said, palming her ass. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll get rid of her.”
“No you won’t. You have a meeting.” Brooke closed her legs, and everything inside of her rolled and dried up. She was pretty sure her ovaries had just shriveled up and died.
“And it isn’t for another two hours.” Billy got out of bed and picked up his clothes. Unfortunately some of them were still in the kitchen where she’d ripped them off him.
Brooke laid her head in both hands. “This does not look good. What are you going to tell her?”
Billy smiled. “That it’s none of her business?”
“Good plan. I’ll stay in here,” Brooke said, and pulled the covers over her head.
“Chicken.” Billy laughed softly as he left the bedroom, and a few seconds later she heard him opening the front door.
“Your timing is spot on, as usual,” Billy said.
Somebody Like You (Starlight Hill Series Book 2) Page 16
