Zach felt like an interloper and couldn’t decide which was worse—being on the outside looking in or the sheer overpowering attractiveness of the woman in front of him. He shifted to go back to the kitchen before he interfered with the impromptu duet.
“You can come in, you know,” Leia called to him.
Busted.
He leaned back around the door and glanced in the room. Carlee had a big smile on her face reminiscent of days gone by and didn’t seem to care he was spying on them.
He cleared his throat. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“We’ll be down in a minute. Is that okay?” Leia asked.
He glanced at the hopeful expression on Carlee’s face and nodded, then hot-footed it away from the vision, trying to short-circuit the urgent message his body was transmitting to his brain.
He did not need this. She would not fit in his life. That vision was an illusion. Carlee certainly didn’t need one more woman in her life who made nice then disappeared. No, this had been a mistake, but one he’d have to let play out.
He opened the oven and stirred the beef stew Aunt Fiona had sent home with him on Sunday. Fortunately, he’d popped it into the freezer for another meal later in the week. He was a whiz with a cereal box or pre-packaged meals, but cooking was something he didn’t like and rarely bothered with.
Aunt Fiona knew this and took pity on Carlee who actually preferred to eat at the Burger Barn every night of the week, but didn’t want to hurt her Great Aunt’s feelings. God only knew what ingredients his aunt had decided to put in the beef stew to Fiona-ize it. He leaned down for a sniff.
“Sometimes beef stew is just beef stew,” his brother said from the doorway.
“Are you still here?” He stirred the contents of the dish again, hoping Beau was right.
“I believe I was invited to stay,” Beau sauntered to the counter.
“I rescind that invitation.”
Beau grinned. “Can’t. I’m already here.”
Zach gave him the finger.
Before Beau could come back with a smart answer, the girls walked in, both of them shining like they’d just received a Grammy Award. Zach took dishes from the cupboard and handed them to Carlee. Beau ogled Leia for a minute, then got himself under control after a subtle kick from Zach.
Carlee opened her mouth to whine as she usually did about setting the table, but snapped it shut. “Leia, would you help me?”
“Sure, sweetie.” True to her word, she set the table and all through dinner raved about the food, flirted with Beau much to Zach’s consternation, and kept Zach’s body simmering with her animation, her covert ‘interested’ glances, and her laughter.
Who knew that the diva would enjoy a small family get together?
That’s how he kept trying to think of her. This outgoing, personable woman was a diva with four platinum records and millions of dollars in the bank. She’d been on Oprah, sang at the Super Bowl, and lived a life he couldn’t imagine and didn’t want to.
Too soon for Carlee, but not soon enough for Zach, Leia announced she had to leave to catch her plane.
“Do you have to? Can we get some pictures first?” Carlee begged.
Zach frowned, desperate to get her out the door and sure she had to be tired of the adulation.
“I’ll get the camera.” Beau immediately rushed to the cupboard in the hall where Zach kept the digital camera. He was as bad as Carlee.
Beau directed the picture taking. Zach finally called a halt after a couple dozen shots. Carlee bit her lip and looked ready to argue, but Leia pulled her into a hug and gushed over how much fun it had been to meet her and spend time with her. Carlee hugged her back and tried to hide the tears.
Zach picked up her jacket and held it up for her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Leia leaned back into him as she shifted into her coat and for a moment her warmth and the feminine scent of her washed over him.
They didn’t talk as they walked down the driveway to her car. She stopped again to look at the house across the street. It was pitch black outside now and the lights were off across the street, but still she squinted at the house in the glow of the street lights and smiled slightly.
Desperate now, Zach opened her car door. “Thanks for being such a sport.”
“She’s a good kid. You’re very lucky.”
He didn’t answer her, couldn’t answer her. His eyes had latched onto her full lips and his brain was a burst of static. A blast of need burned through him. He bent his head to hers, watching her eyes.
Leia looked at him, waiting and when she didn’t pull back, he touched his lips to hers. He kept ruthless control on himself and gently slid his lips across hers. His caressed the side of her throat with his fingers, feeling her pulse pound under his fingertips. The rhythm mirrored the beat of his.
Some measure of instinct returned and he pulled back.
The kiss hung in the air, pulsing and pulling.
She gave him a slight smile and touched a finger to his lips. She started to say something, then looked across the street and let her hand drop to her side. “Thank you for dinner and I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you.” She slipped away from him and into the seat in her car, breaking the spell and letting him draw a breath.
He grimaced at the reminder. “Apology accepted and you’re welcome. Take care of yourself.”
He shut the door and forced himself to walk away. She was looking sad and lost again, those moist brown eyes wringing emotion out of his heart causing an overwhelming urge to hold her and kiss her again.
He wouldn’t make a fool out of himself. He’d done that once over Carlee’s mother and it was an experience to be avoided at all costs—for his sake and for Carlee’s. He admired her guts and she was sexy as hell, but she was a fantasy that was best left in dreams, not touching his reality like he’d allowed.
He couldn’t stop himself from standing on the porch and watching her drive away. He stood there until her tail lights disappeared around the corner, until he noticed the chill without his coat, until his mind accepted she was gone.
It took a damn long time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Leia pressed the code to her gate and drove up the long driveway, staring at all the lights across the main floor of her mansion. Fury slapped at her. Cale seemed to think that because he bought her the house—with her money—that he had rights to it. She was fed up with his lack of respect and the constant invasions of her privacy. Did anyone care anymore about her feelings?
Zach’s kiss flashed through her like a beacon. Followed quickly behind that was the intense yearning for the house on Zach’s street. She gave free rein to the desire to have that house, a home not a public show piece, and squelched the need for the quiet, brooding sheriff.
She didn’t know at what point she had started missing a quiet street, a family atmosphere, the sense of belonging. But it was past time to put this monstrosity on the market and buy something that fit her, not what Cale thought she should own because of her public image.
The idea tempted and she toyed with it, influenced as much by the house as by Zach’s kiss. She couldn’t have been more surprised when he bent and kissed her. She would have loved standing in the moonlight for a few more minutes of indulging. But she was who she was and she still couldn’t see how the two could work.
Temper pushed her when she passed the front of the house and saw dozens of cars parked in the circular drive. She’d been sure she had no engagements tonight when she’d hopped the plane to Denver this morning.
Of course, she hadn’t intended to stay all day and enjoy singing with Carlee quite so much. She pushed the garage door button and pulled into the slot for her convertible, bracing herself for the lecture she was going to get from Cale for disappearing without her security.
The minute she was out of her car and walking to the back door, she heard the pounding music. In the kitchen, four people she’d never met before were stuffing pizza in their mout
hs like they were afraid this would be their last meal.
“Hey, Leia Shae,” one of the woman slurred. “Some party.”
“Who are you?” Leia barely leashed her anger.
“We auditioned for a place in your band. Stand up guy your manager—he invited us to party.”
The cork popped off her temper and she brushed past the woman and through the swinging doors into the dining room. “Over my dead body,” she muttered under her breath.
The lights blazed there too and a mess was spread across the walnut dining room table, but no people. She crossed through the living room and went through the sliding doors out onto the pool patio.
There were dozens of people in her pool, a full bar open, and the music pounded through the dark night. The sound made the air throb and she could only hope it wasn’t carrying to her Oscar winning, complaining neighbor.
She spotted Cale holding court at a table near the guest house, a big cigar in one hand and a drink in the other, with a redhead on his knee she didn’t recognize. She skirted around several people who tried to waylay her to talk and marched to his table.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” A red haze formed over her eyes.
Cale stood. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve tried calling. You don’t ditch your security.”
She ground her teeth and skipped answering the question. “I didn’t. Mark Banning knew where I was. What are all these people doing in my house?”
“Just a little party, sweetie. No worries.”
“Then have it at your house. Get them out.”
Cale set his drink on the table and shooed the redhead off his lap. He rose and came around the table. “Let’s go talk in private. Excuse us, everyone.”
He took her elbow and steered her away from the crowd, giving everyone his patent fake smiley smile and Leia wanted to smash her fist through his face.
“Conduct unbecoming, dearest. There’s press here.” He walked her around the pool to a side door into her empty private office.
“Conduct unbecoming? Oooooh,” she gritted out between clenched teeth. “Don’t even go there. I want all these people out of my house. Make it happen. Now.”
He looked at her like she’d rainbow streaked her hair and grown fangs.
He shook his finger at her. “It won’t work to do that. What explanation will I give? That little Leia is having a temper tantrum? Imagine what that will look like in the tabloids.”
She gave him a fake sweet smile. “How about that little Leia is going to call the police and have you all arrested for trespassing. That’ll give them a damn good headline and I don’t care. This is my house and you have no right to bring all these people here without my permission.”
“Well, I would have asked you if I could have found you . . .if you hadn’t ditched my security and turned your damn cell phone off. Where have you been?”
She turned away and went to her desk. “This is not about me. You invaded my house without permission. Get them out . . . all of them including the four morons in my kitchen who claim you’re auditioning them for part of my band.” She took a deep breath. “Why are you interviewing a new band?”
He gave her an aggravated look. “Your contract with your current band is about to expire. They want more money.”
Leia shook her head, confused. “So give it to them.”
Cale sat on the sofa, clasping his hands over his stomach, as if to wait out a naughty child. “You pay me to handle these things.”
Leia blew out an exasperated breath. “You do not replace my band without talking to me. That’s not part of what you get paid to do.”
“Actually, it is. If I deem they aren’t meeting your needs, I have the authority to find someone else. It’s been that way for a long time.”
“Well, then it’s time to talk about that because I don’t want anyone else and I don’t want you deciding that. They’ve been behind me for all my albums. They know me. I know them. We’re in sync.”
“You’re stale,” he said, blandness in his expression, his eyes calculating. “Your last concert tour showed that. You weren’t even nominated for a Grammy last year.”
Leia straightened in her seat. “Stale? What I was, what we all were, was damn tired. And I’ve been nominated more times than I can remember for a Grammy. Last year was the first year I wasn’t nominated.”
“My point exactly. They want a ridiculous amount.”
“They are worth every penny. You won’t find guitarists like Eli and Sully, not ones with their talent and experience. What exactly are you trying to accomplish? Since when did we ever have to worry about how much we were paying someone?”
“It’s going to cut into the profit margin, dearest. Not something I expect you to understand, because this is the business end of the deal.”
“Oh, I get the business end of the deal and I won’t sacrifice my music because you want to be Scrooge.” She walked to the windows, fury rising again to see people treading on her roses and walking across the top of the waterfall at the edge of her pool.
She swirled around to confront him again. “And that’s another thing. I want an accounting of all my money—where it is, how it’s invested. I want to know where it’s all going.”
“Why?” Cale dropped the father pose and gave her an irritated glance. “Managing your finances and your career is my job. Where is this coming from?”
She walked back to the desk and sat. “It’s time I took a more hands-on approach, that’s all.” She moderated her tone, striving for business professional instead of combative. “You’ve done a good job so far, but I’m not a child anymore, Cale. This is my life and my career and my money and I will have input and my choices will be honored.”
His expression soured.
She struggled to keep her expression flat and serious, instead of pleading.
Cale looked away. “All right. I’ll get you a copy of the accounting—although you’ve never wanted to look at it before.”
“Well, I do now.” She smoothed her hands down her jeans.
“But your band is another . . .”
Leia interrupted him. “Get me a copy of what they want and I’ll talk to them.”
Cale huffed. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks. Why are you being so difficult?”
“My voice. My music. My career. My life. What’s so hard to understand?” Leia rose, done with the conversation except for the one last detail that just popped from her mouth. “And I need $300,000 put into my personal account.”
Cale choked. “What for?”
“Spending money.” And a house away from all this.
“I’ll get you whatever you need. Just tell me what you want.”
“I want three hundred thousand dollars put in my personal account. Understand?” She blew out a frustrated breath. He was grating on her last nerve and her stomach was doing flips that would force her to blurt out what she was up to.
She’d never really had a reason to hide things from Cale before, but something inside her wanted to take care of this herself. It was secret, private and things had a way of leaking out of Cale’s office and into the press. That was the last thing she wanted. If she decided this is what she wanted to do, she didn’t want to jump hurdles with Cale to justify it.
Cale hesitated, opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. “I’ll take care of it. Anything else, your highness?”
Irritation spiked. “I don’t deserve that just because you don’t like what I’m asking for.”
“You’re being demanding and childish,” Cale rose and straightened the crease in his pants.
“No, I’m not. I’m asking nicely for you to honor choices, my choices. That’s what you get paid to do.” Leia walked to the door, preparing to leave. “Get these people out of my house. Understand? Thirty minutes.”
Leia jerked out of the room, not bothering to listen to what would probably be another harangue on her behavior.
She marched back through the house an
d up the circular staircase to her bedroom suite, struggling with her control. After an evening with the Murphy family, she was filled with desperation to find that person she’d been again—the girl who loved to sing, who loved to laugh, who belonged somewhere. This path she’d been on, at Cale’s insistence, wasn’t going to get her there.
She heaved another frustrated sigh and entered her room. She locked the bedroom door, called her security service and sat down to wait until a detail arrived to be sure the unwanted guests left and to secure the house. Housekeeping could take care of the cleanup tomorrow and she’d owe them extra if the mess she walked through was any indication.
She collapsed across the king-size bed, falling into the comfort of the mattress and let herself dream about a small house across the street from a sexy sheriff.
Tiny Smithers made the best coffee in Parson County.
On particularly good mornings, like this one, Zach liked to indulge. He pulled up in front of the Curly Q—the town’s only coffee shop and bakery—and got out. The temperature just skirted freezing, a bad sign for mid-September. Carlee went to school with a smile on her face, in semi-normal clothes, although they resembled what Leia had been wearing yesterday. She’d been humming Leia’s latest song.
All the way to school, she raved about Leia this, Leia that. The woman was larger than life for Carlee now and she’d been pretty damn large to start with. Her enchanting music was stuck in his head along with how soft her lips were against his. Swearing, he got out of the car.
Inside, he walked to the counter, waiting for Tiny to hang up the phone. In actuality, there was nothing small about Tiny. He was six-foot-three, weighed in about two fifty, and was bald as a white cue ball with a tattoo on the top of his head and a gold tooth.
Even dressed in all white, he looked like a thug pirate, but in real life was a baker extraordinaire and had a soft heart for kids, old ladies and animals.
Tiny scowled at him from where he stood with the phone tucked against his ear. Zach frowned, hoping the call wasn’t something that was going to ruin his morning.
Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars Page 51
