Numb, she watched him leave. He never glanced back. Never waved. Never even skipped a step.
Knight held her hand and it was nearly foreplay. This man gave her a light kiss, and she didn’t get a flutter. Still, he fit in her world. Knight may as well be from another solar system. After tomorrow night, she needed to come down to earth.
Chapter Eight
“I’m not going to go back there.” Up on the stage of Erik’s theatre, Nash tuned his guitar.
“Well, well, aren’t you just Prince Charming?” Erik sat down at the piano.
Nash glanced over at Christine. She simply stood there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, clearly glaring at him.
“What’s the point?” He began to tune his guitar. “What’s the point of any of it?”
Erik stood, took his time smoothing down his shirt, moved his hair off his face and then strode over to him. “Let me get this straight. For the last four days I’ve heard you talk about nothing but this Princess Petals, how she wept at the sight of you, how she held your hand, how you felt a connection unlike anything else.”
“Are we going to play or what?” With everything in tune, he put an extra pick in his mouth and got read to make some music.
Erik crossed his arms. “Why don’t you play with your fair maiden by the lake?”
“I can’t play in front of her.” Nash’s voice came out muffled from the pick.
“Right,” Erik growled. “You wouldn’t want to blow your big cover.”
The second Petals figured out he was a has-been rock star, it was over anyway. Better to end it sooner rather than later. He only met her twice and couldn’t stop thinking about her, where did she go after she left him, who was she, what would she do if she knew who he was or was it better this way? Rather than hear a rehash of his life, he began to play a little rift.
Erik lunged over and put his hand over the strings and stared into his eyes. “Now you ask this lovely goddess on this so-called bizarre date in the middle of nowhere, and you’re not going to show up because?”
“Because he’s a jerk.” Christine pursed her lips.
“Other than that?” Erik tilted his head. “What did Stacy and twiddle-dumb and twiddle-dumber do to you?”
With a huff, he turned away and stared down at his guitar. Same make and model as the one he used on tour with Spectre, but not the same one. That one was a burnt up piece of rubble in some landfill, exactly like his career, his life, everything. He could go to the lake and be with Petals, but in the clear light of day he was a loser. Something his stepmother would never let him forget.
Still basking in the high of seeing his nameless little flower, who gazed up at him as if he could save her, he ignored Stacy’s phone calls. Finally today, she demanded his appearance. Though he had much to prepare for tomorrow night on his extremely unique date, he didn’t want the glower of her hanging over his head, and he drove over there.
For the first time since his father’s death, he went to the house. He got out of the car and took in the simple two-story home in Santa Monica. His father bought it with Stacy when they first got married over fifteen years ago when Nash was on tour. Though he never lived there, the memories were there all the same.
The front door opened. “Nashville,” his stepmother screeched.
Something was different, her hair, her makeup, something.
“Get inside, I need you.” She opened the door wider.
Back in the day, he understood why his father married her. She was a beauty, but with an edge, a complete contrast to Nash’s mother. It was over the years and especially once his father became sick, not once, but twice, that the edge sharpened, mostly directed in Nash’s direction.
Determined to not make himself miserable, he complied, approached the woman and nodded. “You look nice.” There, a compliment. Every woman loved a compliment.
“Only nice?” A snide smile lifted one side of her face and she ran her hand over her hair.
He paused, knowing he better come up with the right word for her to not make a scene. “Perhaps radiant is a better word.” In truth, she appeared smooth, maybe too smooth. With her low-cut blood red shirt on and apparently a push up bra, putting everything right there out in the open, she also appeared as if she needed some clothes.
“That’s better. I had a little refresher done. We have the best cosmetic surgeons right here, but he said I only needed a little touch up.” She reached out and ran her hand down his shoulder. “Come in, I’ve been waiting for you. The twins are shopping and I set everything up in the dining room.”
Cane firmly in his grasp, no sooner did he step inside than he realized that his stepmother wasn’t the only thing to get a little freshening up, or a lot. The entire house was different. Gone was the warm mantel with family pictures, cream colored walls, and couches that were perfect to sink into, and it their place everything was done to look like a model home, white, grey and pristine, as if no family ever lived there. Every trace of his father and him were gone, as if they never existed. “What do we have here?”
“Everything needed a nip tuck, Nashville. I couldn’t sit here and live in a shrine to your father. His ghost haunts me.” She hooked her arm in his and guided him to the dining room. “You need to do the same.”
Through his father’s illness, he helped manage the finances. After propping his cane up on the wall, he took the seat always reserved for him at the head of the table. Only it was a different table and a different chair. She already set out his calculator and the checkbook. “What do you mean?” he asked.
Before sitting down next to him, she walked over to a new bar grabbed two wine glasses, a bottle of wine and an opener. “Will you do the honors?”
“Are we celebrating something?” He worked the corkscrew and poured them each some of the drink.
“New beginnings.” She lifted her glass. “I’ve now buried two husbands. I’m starting over. No more marriage, no more taking care of someone. I’m in this for me.”
Strange, he always thought that was her deal.
“What I’m trying to say, Nashville,” she leaned over the table and ran her finger over the back of his hand, “Nash.”
He ground his teeth together. This wasn’t the first time she’d traveled down this path with him. Once he hit it big with Spectre, she did everything to catch his attention. One time, he even had to kick her out of his bed.
“We’ve always had the chemistry. You’ve always been there for me.” She stood and leaned down, putting her cleavage right in his face. “We’re connected, and we don’t need a commitment or anything else. No games, just you and me.”
Her words almost smacked too close to home to what he told Petals. Was this his destiny? How could he want a woman and not even tell her his name? He pushed himself back in the chair and tried to plan an escape route. “Stacy.”
“Yes, call me Stacy.” She grabbed his hand and brought it to the side of her breast. “It’s been so long since I’ve been fulfilled.”
He moved his hand back and tried not to appear as if he were going to vomit at her attention. “I’m not the man to fulfill you. I’m not what you need. Plus, you’re my father’s wife.”
Her cheeks reddened and she slid back in her seat. “You are a simpleton, Nashville. You don’t see what is right in front of you. You’re living in a world that was ten years ago.”
“Then that’s my path.” Actually, he didn’t know his path, he didn’t have a map. “Plus, remember I’m a has-been rock star. What use do you have for me?”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that you need to move on.” Her voice hardened. “Get rid of that millstone around your neck. Let’s sell the property and move on from all the grief. There is a land holding company that owns most of the property around the area. I am quite sure they would offer us a tidy sum to own the few paltry acres the cottage is on.”
No doubt the woman already shopped his land around. He would die before he gave it up. “Where are all the items you
got rid of?” He set the wine aside and lifted her checkbook.
“Damn it, Nashville.” She hit the table. “Are you going to live in a shrine to your parents forever?”
“I believe I’ll just take this home and work on it.” He gathered up her paperwork.
“Your father. He was the same way. Holding on to that property as a way to keep something of your mother.” She held up her hand. “You’re no different. You are holding on to a star that has long ago faded. Look at you with your hair and your clothes. All you do is wish for something you will never be again.”
He retrieved his cane and tossed her paperwork back on the table. “Something tells me you’re overdrawn.”
She put her glass down and dashed over to him. “Nashville, I need you to make it better.” With wide eyes, she stared up at him.
“It looks like you’re providing your own elixir.” He stormed through the house.
“Your father would have wanted you to help me,” she called after him.
No, he didn’t turn back, didn’t flinch, he only continued to limp through the now unfamiliar and foreign space. “I know what he wouldn’t want.”
“If you don’t get back here and get this done, Nashville, everything from the past is going in the dumpster,” she hissed.
He slowed his steps.
“Now, if you turn around and make it better, I will let you take whatever will fit in your car.” With a sick laugh she came up beside him. “I believe there are a lot of photo albums.”
He stopped and stared straight ahead. He would never be free of her, this burden, everything he had become and everything he lacked. A fool. He was a fool who lived in a fantasyland where one day he would reclaim his career, refurbish his cottage, and a girl like Petals would traipse through the forest to be with him. What was he thinking?
He turned back to the house, to the table, to work.
“Nash?” Erik waved his hand in front of his face.
Nash blinked and glanced around the stage. After spending hours recording the money that flowed through the woman’s account, he came straight to Erik’s theatre. He needed music, something to ground him, and get his head back in the game. “Let’s play, Erik.” The only way to have Petals was if he stayed a Knight, because he could never be Nash.
Chapter Nine
Ryane never rebelled. All her life she was the personification of her Daddy’s little girl, and in turn her father provided everything. It was a system that worked for them.
No matter what her father asked, she gave it to him. At sixteen when she wanted to dye her hair pink, she kept it blonde for him. At eighteen when she wanted to go to the rock concert with her friends, she went to the opera instead. At twenty-two she graduated with a degree in business instead of the degree in fashion merchandising she wanted. Now at twenty-five she was supposed to allow this man to choose her husband from a pedigree pool of eligible bachelors.
With another one of his so-called matches on the horizon, she disobeyed him, lied, and rushed back to her haven at the lake to have the date she really wanted with a mystery man. She didn’t even know his real name. The only thing she knew was the connection she felt to him, the tingles that ran through her at his touch, and the warm sensations that overtook her when he looked at her were all too real.
She never experienced anything quite like her Knight, and she must go on this so-called date, experience the freedom once before she got back to her regularly scheduled life. In her real world, she would have had her date with Patrick, and would allow her father to take her to a cocktail party later this week where she would be on display like a prize cow.
Yes, she admitted to herself on her way out, she would let herself have this date and be the bad girl, but she wouldn’t defy her father any further than one night. He would never know. Knight wasn’t running after her with his name, his occupation, or a way to reach him. Every girl deserved a fantasy at least once.
Once she parked her car by the gate, she triple checked her makeup, added a little gloss to her lips, then checked her hair once more.
Not sure what Knight had planned, she grabbed a little dessert she picked up before she started out on her drive.
By the time she made her way through the forest in the boots she bought for the specific purpose of trudging through fallen leaves and wildness, the sun was beginning to set.
The second she made her way near the clearing, an ethereal glow met her. When she rounded the bend, she stopped dead in her tracks to take in the sight before her.
Twinkle lights sparkled off the trees, bathing everything in silver light. Even more incredible was in the middle of nature, somehow Knight brought in a formal dining table, complete with a white cloth, silver domed dishes and candles.
Suddenly, some light music began, an acoustic guitar fitting the setting.
Everything was here, except her date. She held her breath.
Right before she was about to call out to him, he appeared from behind a tree.
Tall, lean and dressed in black pants, a matching, form-fitting shirt, and his long hair down past his shoulders, the man was the epitome of bad and gorgeous.
She bit her lip and waited. The distance between them felt never-ending and part of her wanted to run to him, tell him they had to escape. The other part reminded her after tonight she had to let the fantasy go, so she stood there wanting a sign on what to do next.
As if he could read her mind, he held his hand out to her.
With no resistance, she dropped her items and rushed to him. The moment she placed her hand in his, she swore her whole body sizzled.
“Good evening.” He pulled her closer, dipped his head down and gave her a soft kiss behind her ear.
“Hi.” she gasped and winced. After the anticipation, all she had to say to him was hi?
“Tell me how you are.” His deep voice rumbled through her.
“Better now.” She shut her eyes.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed her in time to the music.
For the first time, he didn’t wear his leather jacket and she could clearly make out his hard, smooth muscles beneath his shirt. The man was a movie hero come to life, unreal down to what she called him.
“Then let’s dance.” Still keeping up with the music, he ran his hand down her back and pressed their bodies together.
For several minutes they danced, more like held each other and stared into the other’s eyes. “I’ve never heard music like this before.”
“I’m glad you are enjoying it.” He continued their slow dance. “What draws you to it?”
Before answering, she paused. The music changed. Another tune, only guitar. “I don’t know. You don’t need anything other than the guitar. Not even a voice. It’s simple and beautiful all at the same time.”
“You’re beautiful.” He licked his lips. “But you are far from simple.”
His compliment caused her cheeks to warm. “You don’t know the half of it.” A little tease never hurt anyone.
“And that, my gorgeous Petals, is the beauty of our situation.” Keeping hold of her, he guided her over to the table, pulled out one of the chairs, and they sat side by side. He poured some wine and offered her a glass.
“How did you do all this?” She held the glass up. The man didn’t know she knew her wine, in fact, Windsome holdings owned a vineyard, and her life had been an education in the proper vintage. It was refreshing to be served a glass of mediocre wine with no pretense, no expectation or nervousness that somehow the drink wouldn’t be pleasing. Knight didn’t know many things. The idea was both freeing and confining.
“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re both here.” He tapped his glass against hers.
The wine warmed her. No, she didn’t taste dollar signs, only tasted what could be and what would never happen. Her life was relegated to four digit bottles of wine, and country clubs, not sitting back and listening to music and worrying about costs. “We’re here.” She repeated his
sentiment.
“Let me ask you this.” He put his glass aside and took her hand. “If I wasn’t here, would it have made things easier?”
She laced her fingers in his, then studied how his large hand encompassed hers. “In ways. What about me?”
“Absolutely.” His eyes lit up with his smile. “But who ever said anything should be easy?”
“Nothing is ever easy.” Why did she have to meet him now? Why did this have to be difficult?
“Tell me what’s troubling you, Petals.” A little flourish in his actions, he lifted the domes off the dishes revealing a plate with a little bit of meat, chicken, fish and vegetables. “I didn’t know what you liked.”
“That’s the trouble.” She studied the plate and turned away.
“What is?” Instead of forcing her to look at him, he gently massaged the back of her neck.
Any touch he treated her to sent shock waves of desire through her body, only another one of her problems that seemed to pile up on her. “I want you to know what I prefer, I want to know what you want, and I feel like I’m not going to get the chance.” Gathering her strength, she faced him again. “I wanted you there yesterday when…” She shook her head and shrugged. Yes, she wanted him to save her from Jerold and Patrick and anyone else. “It’s not fair to put on you, I don’t even know you really, but I can’t help wondering if we met a different way if things would be different.”
“Things would be different.” He took her face in his hands. “If we changed one thing about us, things would be different.”
“Why does it have to be you?” she whispered.
“Because what we have is magic.” As if taking her all in, he grazed his thumbs over her cheeks. “The only problem with magic is the spell is too easily broken. In the real world, we wouldn’t work.”
Tears clouded her vision. He voiced everything she’d been thinking. Were they saying goodbye? Isn’t that what she came here to do in the first place?
“Do you know what my magic is when I’m with you?” He inched his face closer to hers.
Fantasy: A Modern Romance Inspired by Cinderella (Seductively Ever After) Page 6
