Hold Me Until Morning

by Christina Phillips

  It wasn’t much of an apology, but until he worked out how he could get her alone so he could grovel—Jackson reckoned groveling was the only way he stood a chance—the flowers and chocolate and fuck knows what else would have to wait.

  He frowned. That thump sounded like the front door. He grabbed a wrench from his toolkit and inched open the bathroom door. If a burglar was out there, he was about five seconds away from needing a trip to the ER.

  Paris blinked at him. He nearly dropped the damn wench on his foot.

  “Hi.” She sounded wary. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”

  It suddenly occurred to him he had no right being here at all. Just because he still had a key from last week didn’t mean that she couldn’t accuse him of breaking and entering.

  “Uh.” What the fuck was that? When had he ever been at a loss for words?

  She looked at the wrench and appeared to find it fascinating. “So… How are you doing?”

  He cleared his throat. “I just stopped by to fix your plumbing.”

  That got her attention. “My plumbing?” She sounded as though she didn’t know the meaning of the word. “You’ve fixed the shower?”

  “I said I would.” He shifted uneasily. This wasn’t the conversation he’d planned on having with her when he saw her again. For a start, he didn’t have any flowers and chocolate and fuck knows what. “Photo shoot go well?” He managed not to cringe, but only just.

  It didn’t help when she just stared at him as though she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He gripped the wrench tighter and tried to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

  She was a vision. In a sexy little dress and matching jacket, she looked like she’d stepped straight off the red carpet.

  Whereas he was covered in grime and sweat.

  “It went fine.”

  The silence was agonizing. Was it possible to grovel when all you had to offer was a fixed shower?

  “Congratulations on landing the movie role.” That’d show her he knew all about her change of plans without them having to discuss it. Does this count as groveling? He didn’t think so.

  She frowned at him.

  “I haven’t landed any movie role.”

  Cora had lied to him.

  He could hardly accuse her mom of lying. He transferred the wrench to his other hand and kept his mouth shut.

  She took a deep breath. “Did my mom tell you that?”

  He couldn’t answer her without letting on that Cora had paid him a visit. He made a noncommittal grunt and shoved the damn wrench into his jeans’ back pocket.

  “And you believed her?”

  How was he supposed to answer that? “Look, it doesn’t matter to me if you make multimillion dollar movies or give it all up and go to college. Whatever makes you happy. I’d never stand in your way.”

  She bit her lip. For a terrible second he thought he’d made her cry. “I know you wouldn’t.” There was a suspicious wobble in her voice. He took her hand and squeezed her fingers, and she didn’t pull back.

  Tell her. He swallowed. Here came the grovel. “I didn’t mean what I said—about it just being some fun. Although it was fun,” he added hastily in case she jumped to wrong conclusions. “But it was much more than that.”

  “Mm.” She took a step toward him. The scent of orange blossoms drifted around him, and he breathed in deep. God, that was good. Like he’d come home. “Do you still want to move on?” she asked.

  He tugged her a little closer. “Only if you’re there with me.”

  She gave a funny little smile. “That could be arranged.”

  Their foreheads touched. This was all he wanted. He didn’t need to know anything else, but his big mouth opened and out came the words. “Why did you really run away here last week?”

  He steeled himself for her answer. Whatever it might be. She didn’t pull away, or glare at him, or try and laugh it off. Instead, she shuddered and her fingers tightened around his.

  “Oh God, it was awful.”

  He’d asked. Served him right if he didn’t like the answer. “What was?”

  She shook her head. “You can’t breathe a word about it.”

  “You really think I would?”

  “No.” She sighed. “I know you wouldn’t. But it’s just… Okay, I know I’ll get over it and blah blah whatever, but it’s seriously gross walking in and seeing your own mother doing it doggy style with your bodyguard.”

  What the…

  “Your mother?” he asked, in case he’d just had a crazy hallucination.

  “Yes.” She scrunched up her face. “Doesn’t bear thinking about it, does it?” She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Please don’t ever think about it, Cooper.”

  “That’s the reason you left Hollywood and left a false trail to Europe? Because you caught your mom having sex with your bodyguard?”

  “Please don’t keep saying that.”

  Cora had deliberately made it sound as though Paris had somehow been involved with her bodyguard, without actually lying about it. She should be in movies herself.

  The knot in his chest loosened. She hadn’t been on the rebound. Not even close.

  You still haven’t asked her what she wants. It shouldn’t be so hard, but despite everything he was afraid of her answer. “What do you want to do, Paris?”

  She tensed. “What do you want to do?”

  They could fuck about like this all night. He knew what he wanted. “I want us to be together. We can make it work. Just say the word.”

  She cupped his jaw in that way she had. It was tender and sexy all at the same time. Then she moved in close, as though she didn’t care that he was covered in dirt from crawling about on the floor.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I want that, too. You and me against the world.”

  He wanted to fork his fingers through her hair and drag her into his arms, but his hands were filthy. He pulled on the end of one of her curls instead. “Not against the world, babe. Whatever you decide, I’ll always have your back.”

  “Cooper Grayson.” He’d never get tired of hearing her say his name like that. “That’s the third nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me—and you get first and second place, too.”

  He laughed and tugged her into his arms. To hell with her clothes. “Paris O’Connell, I don’t know why you want to be with me, but I’m not ever letting you go.”

  She wound her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair. “I’m going to hold you to that. Forever.”

  Forever. He’d never thought about having a forever with anyone before. No one before her had wanted him for anything serious. He was good for a laugh, nothing more. He was the one who’d ruined his brother’s life.

  Except he hadn’t ruined Alex’s life. Paris was right. People made their own choices. There was a choice he could make right now—to let the moment go, or tell her how he felt.

  There were no roses or violins or a big romantic moon by the ocean. Just the two of them in a run down cabin that needed a whole lot of TLC.

  He took a deep breath. Now or never.

  “I love you, Paris.”

  She smiled up at him. “It’s about time.” Her voice was all husky, and hell, were there tears in those gorgeous green eyes of hers? “I’d almost given up on you.”

  “Don’t ever give up on me, babe.”

  Her sigh wrapped around his heart. “I won’t. I love you, Cooper. I always will.”

  He kissed her.

  You’re my heart…

  “Fuck me.” Scott’s disgusted voice stabbed through the moment, and he and Paris turned to look at him. He didn’t let go of her, though. She kept stroking the back of his neck as though she didn’t give a damn her brother was watching them.

  “Hey, Scott,” he said. He guessed it was too late to warn his friend he was seeing his sister.

  “Eye bleach,” Scott muttered, glaring at Paris. She smiled sweetly.

  “If you�
��re staying the night you can use Cooper’s old room. He’s with me now.”

  A strange ache throbbed through his chest. This was what he’d wanted. For her to publicly acknowledge they were together. It was never the wig that was the problem. It was his conviction that, deep down, she was ashamed of being seen with him.

  He kissed the top of her head, then caught Scott’s gaze.

  “Guess checking out the talent at Thirteen isn’t going to happen now?” It was a challenge. It was also a no-brainer.

  “Not in this lifetime,” he said, before he scooped Paris into his arms and carried her into their bedroom.

  Epilogue

  Three Months Later

  “This is a lovely wedding,” Paris said, as they danced in the small ballroom of the hotel where his brother and Scarlett had tied the knot earlier that day. “Pretty romantic having it in the same place Jackson proposed, huh?”

  “Guess so.”

  She frowned. “Are you okay? You’ve been kind of distracted all day.”

  “I’m fine.”

  No, he wasn’t. He was having serious second thoughts about the birthday surprise he’d arranged for her in a couple of weeks’ time.

  He knew she’d receive some outrageous gifts, and the fact was she could afford to buy anything she wanted, but he’d discovered by chance she’d never been to Paris. Not that she ever said she wanted to, but it seemed like fate. He wanted to do something for her that she’d never done before.

  It’d seemed a great idea a month ago when he’d booked them for a long weekend in a small hotel hidden down a secret alley. He’d planned it all out. They’d see all the famous sights, and then on the final evening he’d arranged for a private cruise along the river Seine. While she admired the glittering lights of the most romantic city in the world, he was going to ask her to marry him.

  The closer the date got, the worse he felt. Suppose she said no?

  “Hey lovebirds, having a good time?” Ella wrapped her arms around his and Paris’s shoulders. “Scarlett knows how to put on a good show doesn’t she?”

  “I was just saying to Cooper how romantic it all was.”

  Ella pulled a face. “Coop wouldn’t know romance if it smacked him in the face.”

  “Thanks, Ella.”

  “You’re welcome.” She flashed him a smile. He’d shared part of his plan with her, just to make sure he was on the right track, and she’d been seriously impressed. He hadn’t told her about asking Paris to marry him. Though he had a sinking feeling Ella might’ve guessed.

  “So have you decided whether you’re going for that movie part?” Ella asked.

  Paris turned and leaned her back against him, and he linked his arms around her waist. “Yes, I am. Marcia’s just smoothing out some kinks in schedules for next year, but it should work out fine.”

  When she had taken her place at Brown, she’d decided against going for the roles her mom had so desperately wanted for her. But after talking to her agent, she’d come to another decision—one where she could pick and choose her own movie roles, and still get the degree she’d always wanted.

  “Guess your mom’s happy about that.”

  “She’s coming round to it. In fact, I think she’s kind of enjoying having more time to herself now she’s not shadowing me. She and Anson seem to be getting quite, uh, serious.”

  He hid his grin. When they were alone she might shudder about the fact she’d caught sight of Anson’s naked ass, but at least he was keeping Cora occupied. Which could only be a good thing, since Paris had acquired a new manager.

  “Paris, I want to ask you a favor.” Ella gave a bright smile, and with a shrug Paris untangled herself from his arms.

  “Sure.”

  Cooper watched them disappear in the crowd. What the hell was that all about? Ella wasn’t going to spill his secret, was she? As far as Paris was aware they were going to hang out at the cabin for her birthday weekend, just the two of them.

  Alex appeared by his side. “How’s the East Coast treating you?”

  Of course Ella wouldn’t say anything. He dragged his attention to his brother.

  “Good. Dale’s keeping me busy.”

  “No regrets?”

  He knew Alex wasn’t just referring to the move across the country.

  “No. She’s all I need.”

  There was a long silence. “Okay,” his brother said at last. “Keep in touch.”

  Cooper gave him a sideways glance. Of course he’d keep in touch. Even though they’d both relocated to the East Coast three months ago, they were always flying back. A couple of months ago he’d gone with her to some huge Sunset Heights party, and last month she’d shot a new ad for the perfume contract she was still under. He always caught up with his brothers and gran while he was here.

  And once she finished college they’d most likely move back to L.A. With the business degrees he was working on, he’d have a lot more to offer Grayson’s in the future.

  He headed toward where Paris and Ella had disappeared and caught sight of Ella’s rainbow hued hair. She was alone.

  “Damn, you’ve got it bad, Coop.” Ella shook her head. “Take that look off your face. I haven’t scared her off. She’s out on the terrace, that’s all.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing.” Ella shrugged. “Well, nothing to do with you. She still thinks you’re putting together a surprise party at the cabin for her birthday.”

  “Okay.” Then he swung around and kissed Ella’s cheek. “Alex is over by the bar if you want him.”

  Ella gave a brittle smile. “What makes you think I want him? I’ve got a hot football player waiting for me on the dance floor.”

  Right. He frowned as he watched Ella stalk off, then he shook his head and made his way to the terrace. Paris was by the door, watching him.

  “What was that all about?” He took her hand.

  “Oh, she just wanted to know if she could stay at the cabin for a few days next week. Not sure why she wanted to get me alone to ask that, but whatever.”

  Neither did he. “You want to get some air?”

  “Sure.” She leaned her head against his shoulder as they went outside. Wall lanterns cast a glow, and they strolled further along the terrace, away from the other guests who’d stepped out to enjoy the mild fall night.

  She sighed softly and wrapped her arm around him. “This is perfect.”

  Yes, it was. He rubbed his jaw across the top of her head and inhaled her gorgeous scent. The full moon was huge in the night sky, and its reflection rippled on the surface of the lake. An abundance of roses were twined around the wrought iron railings that surrounded the terrace.

  From inside the hotel came the faint, haunting sounds of violins.

  A shiver inched along his arms. They weren’t by the ocean but everything else was…

  Perfect.

  “Are you cold?” She frowned up at him. “Want me to warm you up?”

  There was no one else in this corner of the terrace. No one who’d see if he fucked it up—or if she rejected him.

  He gripped her hand. If she said no, he wasn’t going to let her run away. “I’m taking you to Paris for your birthday.”

  Hell. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say. She gasped and looked thrilled.

  “Are you? Oh my God. That’s awesome.”

  He grabbed her other hand for added courage. “It was going to be a surprise.”

  “It is a surprise. It’s the best surprise ever.” She squeezed his fingers. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.”

  He glanced at the moon for inspiration. The only thing that filled him was cold terror.

  How the fuck had Jackson asked Scarlett? He should’ve asked his brother for some advice.

  There was no easy way to say it. “Will you marry me?”

  Her smile seemed to freeze. Shit. Now what? As if to mock him, the violins reached some kind of crescendo.

  “You want to marry me?” There was a wobble
in her voice. Is that good or bad?

  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Christ. Was that the best he could come up with? Even if it was the truth.

  “Am I?” Now she sounded as though she was about to cry.

  He should’ve waited. Stuck to his plan. Although how this would be any easier in France he had no idea. “We can wait. I don’t want to rush you into anything, but you need to know. You’re all I want. You’re all I’ll ever want.”

  She blinked a few times, as though she had something in her eyes. “You always say the best things, Cooper.”

  His heart hurt. It could’ve been worse. She could’ve told him no way. “Hey, maybe I’ll ask you again in a year or so.”

  She went rigid. “What d’you mean you’ll ask me again next year? You’re not wriggling out of it that easily, Cooper Grayson. As far as I’m concerned you’re my fiancé as of right now.”

  He stared at her. “Did you just accept my proposal?” It sure hadn’t sounded like it.

  “Well of course I did. Are you crazy?”

  Was he? “You want to be my wife?” Damn that sounded good.

  “Only as much as you want to be my husband.” Then she laughed and fell against him. “I love you, Cooper Grayson. Don’t you ever forget it.”

  Like that would ever happen. She’d changed his life. “Love you, too, Paris Annabelle Sofia O’Connell.” All he wanted to do was get her alone and show her exactly how much he wanted to be her husband. “How soon can we get out of here?”

  The End

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  Acknowledgments

  I want to give a big shout out to my fabulous Street Team for all the friendship and support you’ve given over the last year. You guys are the best! Thanks also to Sara Hantz and Amanda Ashby for the brainstorming and cyber chocolate. Huge thank you to my amazing editor, Candy Havens, for making me dig so deep. Big cheers to Ellie and Debbie and everyone at Entangled Publishing for making it all so painless! And thank you to Mark, for everything.