Blackout: A Romance Anthology

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  He’d been taken aback. Laughed, until he realized she wasn’t kidding. Then he’d stilled. Looked her up and down once more as though seeing her for the first time. Called her the only person in the room with a worthwhile motivation. Then he’d finished by thanking her for opening up to him.

  That moment was when Anda had started falling head over heels for Chance.

  If he was truly nothing more than a shallow, sex-obsessed player, then why had he remembered?

  Why had he cared enough to remember?

  Confused, she sipped at her bubbly cocktail. “Caught your attention, didn’t I? Stood out from the crowd?” Except it was hard for Anda to keep up this brittle persona. So, she’d just talk to him. They were good at that. “The best lies are based in truth.”

  “Which part was true?”

  “The boutique I ran for my parents really did get shut down out of the blue. The landlord sold the entire strip of shops to a developer. They couldn’t come up with the cash to fight it fast enough. We liquidated what we could. I talked a few competitor boutiques into buying the rest of our merchandise at cost. That saved my parents.”

  Chance shifted, his thigh rubbing against hers. He patted her forearm. “That was a lousy break.”

  “Well, here in Lalaland, people are usually obsessed about what’s good for them without worrying about the consequences.” Whoops. That was probably a bit too on point. A targeted jab straight from her heart aimed at his like a harpoon. “In the year leading up to the closing, I’d gone to seven bridal showers, and three weddings. It brought home that all my attention had been poured into the business for too long. That if I kept up that way, I’d wake up at forty-five with nothing but a passel of cats on the other side of the bed.”

  One side of his mouth—his beautiful, full mouth that Anda could chew on for days—quirked up. “Didn’t you tell me you’re allergic to cats?”

  “Exactly.” They both laughed again. It was a good way to cover Anda’s amazement that he remembered her allergy, too.

  Then again, Chance was a smart man. His stunt work required a ripped body, but there was a steely determination locked in it, and one heck of a mind that calculated risks and trajectories and all sorts of physics. Remembering details from their conversations did not, in any way, shape or form, equate to caring about her.

  She would not fall into that trap.

  Not again.

  She shifted her forearm out from beneath his hand. “So yes, I’d like to meet a man who appreciates me. Who wants to share his life with a partner. Who makes me laugh. Who makes my heart stutter when I think about him. Who makes me feel like the only woman in the world.” Anda gave him a tight-lipped smile that—hopefully—was garnished with a smidge of condescension. “The part where I lied? I never expected to find that man on a reality dating show.”

  Actually? That wasn’t even a lie. Anda had never expected to fall for the handsome hunk on Man of Her Dreams. She’d merely hoped…

  “I, uh, well, I can’t say I expected to find someone special on the show, either.”

  “See? We’re on the same page.”

  This was going great. Anda was positive she was projecting the right image. One that did not, in any way, so much as hint at the depth of sadness she’d felt at being dumped by him. No, not even her very real wounded pride at being dumped on national television. Not the overwhelming sadness at losing Chance in her life. At losing what she’d seen as the strong possibility of a lasting relationship.

  Nope.

  He couldn’t begin guess at that. Anda reached under the bar to rap her knuckles on what she hoped was wood for good luck.

  Chance gave her another one of those long, evaluating looks. It was clear the wheels were turning in his brain, but he didn’t let on about what. It was the kind of look that made a woman either check for lipstick on her teeth…or wonder if he was secretly psychic and listening in to her desperate thoughts.

  Then he spread his hand wide, palms up. “Well? Have you had any success? Finding a rich, smart, handsome, funny guy who brings you flowers every week and dishes out orgasms in triplicate?”

  Anda practically did a spit take. She did have to swallow too hard and too fast. The bubbles burned the back of her throat. The pain chased away the memory that had tried to zing into her brain of the night he’d given her three orgasms.

  “Now who’s not anchored at all in reality?”

  “The reality is that you deserve all of that. At a minimum.” Chance sandwiched her hand between his. Then he squeezed, just hard enough to press his warmth into her. Also, just enough to melt her resolve to hate him by at least a few notches.

  Which should not, could not, happen. Breezy, bright and light. Keeping it shallow, like a stone skipping across the water.

  Anda fell back on the oldie but goodie of an eye roll. “Sure. And why not make this paragon of virtue a prince, too? With two sisters who will be my new BFFs?”

  “You don’t want to be a princess. You’d have to give up your career. That wouldn’t work.”

  The tips of her fingers curled around the edges of his hand. Because Chance was right.

  Chance got her. He didn’t just remember surface facts. He remembered who she was, at her core. He’d listened to her, and absorbed so much more than her words, and that was so special. That was what women wanted from a man.

  Anda simply couldn’t help herself from opening up to him after that spot-on assessment.

  “I miss it so much,” she admitted. “I know I overdid it. That I wanted to prove to my parents I could handle whatever responsibility they threw at me, so I took on too much. The boutique took up every waking hour of my day. I started helping out there when I was twelve.”

  “What was your favorite part?”

  “It’s hard to choose. There’s the immediate satisfaction of balancing the books.”

  This time Chance was the one who almost did a spit take. “You enjoyed the accounting?”

  “The basic QuickBooks stuff. We had an accountant for the tricky parts. But there’s a lot of uncertainty in life. Numbers? They either add up or they don’t. It was like a palate cleanser for my brain.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to go back to fashion retail? Do you want to take your love of numbers and plug away in a big corporation?”

  “I…I don’t know.” Anda toyed with the stem of her flute, but it was empty. “I really like the personal connection. It isn’t brain surgery, but helping someone find an outfit that gives them confidence and makes them feel beautiful? That can be the difference between dreading a party and enjoying it. Or, yes, giving them a kick-ass attitude for an interview. But…I don’t know.”

  Chance signaled the bartender for a refill. “Is there something you want—need—to talk about? It can be easier to unload on an objective outsider.”

  “Yes. No. It’ll jinx it.”

  Thick eyebrows shot up his forehead. “You’re here deciding if you should take a new job? Congratulations!”

  His easy warmth was soooo seductive.

  Anda shook her head. “I don’t have offers yet. A couple of interviews that went really well. Two very, very different jobs.”

  “Ah. I see. Even if you only get one offer, you still don’t want to take it if it’s wrong.”

  “Exactly.” Her friends and her parents did not understand her attitude. It was such a treat to have Chance see her side. “My bank account and my highly expensive COBRA insurance say take anything. But my heart wants it to be the right thing, not settle for just anything.”

  “Yeah. Right there with you. Turns out I’m in a weirdly similar situation.” He lifted his fresh glass and clinked it against hers. “To clarity. Or, putting back enough of these to not care for tonight.” His deep, self-deprecating laughter rumbled out.

  It rolled over her like a physical stroke. Goose bumps broke out on Anda’s arms. Legs. Probably other places, too.

  Their conversation was flowing as easily as it had seven months ago
. They connected. They understood each other.

  How was this happening?

  She needed to escape. It had been too much of a shock to discover Chance here. Anda needed a night to process it, to accept the shift in plan and steel herself against falling for his tricks, his lines, his….

  Damn it, nothing he said sounded like a line. His interest seemed genuine. Which she knew it couldn’t be. Escape was her only option.

  Right after she baited the hook…

  Anda gave a toss of her head that should send her blowout into perfect, cascading ripples to end at her very on-display breasts. Sure enough, Chance’s eyes did a slo-mo follow of her hair. “I’d love to hear how our situations are the same. It sounds like there’s a story there, for sure. But I’m afraid I’m meeting a friend for dinner. I was killing time in here until she was ready.”

  “That’s a shame. It feels like we barely started talking.”

  Anda completely agreed.

  Damn it.

  “Well, this is just my first night here. If you’re staying for a few days as well, why don’t we plan to have some fun together? That is, if you’re interested. Oh, wait.” In a move so calculatedly flirty that it shocked her a little, Anda stroked her fingers through the hair above his ear. The motion ended with her palm cradling the back of his head….and pulling it towards her. “I should probably check if I’m still interested.”

  Then she kissed him.

  Anda tried to start with a light brush. Just enough of a tease to back up her challenge. But…that lasted all of a millisecond. Honestly—and she knew she’d be replaying this in her head all night—there was no moment where she or Chance took the kiss deeper. It absolutely, one-hundred percent happened simultaneously.

  It was like waving a bottle of water in front of someone stumbling out of the desert…and that person grabbing it with both hands and chugging.

  Chance’s hands shot forward to her waist, pulling Anda off the stool to between his legs as he stood. She locked her wrists behind his neck. And they kissed—

  Well, they kissed like two desperate people who hadn’t seen each other in seven months.

  It was hot and hard.

  Less finesse. More raw passion.

  It was like falling into the sun. Bright. Almost painfully heated, from the inside out.

  Joy filled.

  It was all kinds of right.

  “Sir, your drinks will be on the house if you relocate your action to outside by the pool. Or possibly even your rooms upstairs.” The bartender’s pointed suggestion broke them apart.

  Chance grinned, wiping her lipstick off with the back of his wrist. “Sorry. We were catching up.”

  “I assure you, the entire bar is now caught up.”

  He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and slid them across the bar. “No need to comp the drinks. We’re sorry for getting carried away inappropriately.”

  Heart pounding faster than her little Chihuahua client Elmer ran at the sight of a cat, Anda backed away. “Chance, no. This was my treat. I’ll comp it to my room.”

  “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do that? All you can do for me is tell me that you’re still interested. Interested enough to meet me tomorrow for a date?”

  If she said yes, she could make her escape. Gather her overstimulated nerves, racing pulse and frazzled thoughts in peace and quiet in her suite.

  If she said yes, it would further her plan.

  It wouldn’t necessarily broadcast to Chance just how much that kiss had thrown her for a loop.

  “Why yes, I do find myself interested in the possibility of a do-over with you.” She grabbed a cocktail napkin and scribbled down her cell number. “Text me with a time and place. Because you’ve still definitely got skills.”

  “You’ve still got…everything.”

  Unable to risk looking back up at him, Anda waved over her shoulder and raced out. She even kicked off her heels as she rounded the corner so she could get to the elevator faster.

  One thought kept chasing around her brain on a loop as she hurried down the hallway, dodging entwined couples and laughing groups of woman.

  That was not the kiss of a man without feelings for her.

  CHAPTER 7

  Technically, Chance knew the average human could hold their breath for two minutes. He’d gotten a Navy Seal buddy to help him train to last three minutes, which had helped him secure roles on both Aquaman movies. There was that Guinness World Record holder in Brazil who could do it for twenty minutes, but only by breathing pure oxygen first.

  #Cheating

  But it felt like he’d been holding his breath since Anda walked out of the bar last night. His chest burned and was impossibly tight.

  Or maybe that was simply what happened when his heart suddenly re-inflated after more than half a year.

  “I don’t understand why we’re out here,” Anda said, waving her paddle at him from her kayak.

  “It’s a gorgeous day to be on the lake. Cloudless sky. Stunning mountain view. Unseasonably warm. Plus, it’ll be a lot more fun to kayak over to the resort where I’ve arranged for lunch than it would be to drive.”

  Double plus, it meant Chance got to ogle her beautiful curves barely contained by a bright yellow bikini.

  And yeah, he hoped that she was sneaking glances at him, too.

  Chance worked damn hard to keep his body camera ready to stand in for the most ripped men in Hollywood. Even though he wasn’t doing stunts anymore, he hadn’t relaxed his training much. Stopping was hard when it was all he knew.

  “The view is stunning. I mean, it’s January.” She tipped back her head, shielding her eyes from the bright sun with her forearm. “Three quarters of the country would kill to swap places with me. But…it isn’t very…private.”

  Huh. They were alone. Her comment felt odd. “There are probably a bunch of people down by the cable park, where you can jetpack out of the water. That’s why I brought us to this end of the lake. Pure privacy.”

  “Sure, we’re the only two people as far as we can see. But it still isn’t…private.” And her purring tone was pure seduction edged with suggestion.

  Yeah, he’d noticed that her attitude to him last night had been ultra-aggressive. “Screw me now” was the message she’d broadcasted.

  Which wasn’t like the Anda he remembered at all.

  Not that he objected one bit to the scorching kiss they’d shared.

  Chance was thrilled to get another chance with her. This time, he’d get it right. Even though he still didn’t know what he’d done to run her off the show without a word…

  “What sort of privacy are you looking for, Anda?”

  Her forceful flirtatiousness faltered. “Something more along the lines of requiring a door. With a lock.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you want to use me for sex.”

  She began paddling again. Smooth, long strokes away from the shoreline. “What if I did?” she said over her shoulder.

  Shit. Without knowing how he’d screwed up before, it made it tough to guess the right answer. Was she teasing or serious?

  All he could do was lead with honesty. And stroke harder to catch up to her. “I’d never turn you down, Anda.”

  “Ooh, that’s delightful to hear.”

  “But…” Chance waited until he’d drawn up alongside her again to continue. Hooked the tip of her kayak with his oar to lock them side by side. “Sex is way down on the list of things I want from you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her top teeth bit down—adorably—on her full bottom lip. “What else do you want?”

  “I want you to laugh. With me, at me, however I can get it. Your laugh is prettier than a harp.”

  “You’ve got vast harp experience?”

  “Sadly, yes. My sister used to play. When it’s right, it’s sweeter than cotton candy. And when it’s wrong? Well, I’d rather listen to racoons in heat fighting.”


  “I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who appreciates classical music.”

  “Because of the muscles? Does everyone at the Disney Concert Hall these days get checked for a PhD along with their ticket?”

  “Sorry. That came off as snobby. I truly didn’t mean it as an insult. I think said it because I look at you and I hear the soundtrack to an action movie. Pumping bass, a driving rhythm. Especially when I watch your hips as you walk. It’s like you’re moving to a music that’s just out of earshot.”

  “That’s a nice image. I’ll take it.”

  “Good.” Now she looked concerned, pink tinging her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fifteen minutes they’d been out in the sun. Her hands were white-knuckling the paddles. “I’d hate to upset you.”

  “Anda.” Chance reached over to stroke a hand down her soft, warm shoulder. “It’s okay. I was teasing.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  “I want to know what you’re thinking. How your mind works. That’s the biggest thing I want from you. The time to get to know you even better than before.” His thumb rested in the crook of her elbow, right where he could feel her pulse pounding as fast as if they’d been racing from the resort dock. What was going on with her?

  Very deliberately, she pulled out of his grasp. Then she pushed off of his kayak and let the ripples of the lake carry hers several feet away. “I did all the talking last night. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”

  “And spoil the day?” Good thing he was already in a boat, or he’d drown in his own sarcasm.

  Her beautiful, pink mouth rounded into an O of concern. “Chance. It can’t be that bad. Can it?”

  Not telling her was an option. But that’d blow the whole honesty trip.

  And—mind-blowing sex aside—what they’d really been good at doing on the show was talking. Anda listened so intently. She didn’t interrupt, she didn’t dismiss, and she asked all the right follow-up questions.