by Cathryn Fox
He let himself in through the front door like she’d told him to and was greeted with the most delicious smells. Could it be?
“Hey,” he said as he walked down the hall to find Angel in the kitchen, an apron around her waist. “I thought tonight was your poker night?”
“It is, but the girls gave me a pass.”
“Lucky for me.” As she stirred something on the stove, he stepped up behind her and kissed her on the neck. A shiver moved through her and his cock hardened. Christ, they’d had sex every night this week yet he couldn’t get enough of her. She turned, and her lips found his. “I am so glad you changed your plans,” he murmured into her mouth.
“I wanted to give you the right send off.”
His stomach clenched. “Send off. What are you talking about?”
“You’re only here for a few more days, so I wanted to take advantage of that.”
He relaxed a bit. “Please, baby, take advantage of me.”
She laughed and gave him a little shove. “That’s not what I meant. Sit.” She pointed to the chair at the island.
He sat and she grabbed him a beer. He cracked the cap, took a long pull, and held the bottle out to her.
She took a sip and handed it back. “What I meant was, I wanted to make you a home cooked meal. Texas style.”
His heart skipped a beat. Was she serious? He stared at her, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. “You what?”
“Don’t be mad.”
“Mad? Why would I be mad?” He looked at the stove and breathed in the delicious aromas. “I can’t believe that you would do this for me.”
She crinkled her nose. “But I kind of invaded your privacy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I snuck a peek at your phone last night after you fell asleep. I wanted to get your mom’s number. This is her recipe. She texted it to me.” She laughed. “I love that your mom texts.”
His heart missed a beat, then two. “You…you contacted my mom.”
She blinked rapidly, her look apologetic. “I hope you’re not upset.”
“Sweetheart,” he began, his voice a little shaky as a surge of warmth flooded him. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”
She held her hands up, palms out. “Don’t worry though. I didn’t read any of your messages. I would never do that.”
“I’m not worried.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and put it on the counter. “And I have nothing to hide from you, Angel.”
She smiled, a strange wistful look in her eyes. A long unsteady breath followed, and she turned and grabbed two plates. “I’m sure this isn’t as good as your mother’s.”
Jesus, she was the sweetest, most thoughtful girl he knew. There was no one he liked being with more, and what he loved most was talking with her and having real, meaningful conversations that involved more than glitter. “I bet it’s better.”
She laughed. “I doubt that.”
“Care to make a wager?”
“You and your gambling ways. And no on the wager, you don’t follow through.”
“Meaning?”
“You’ve not worn those assless chaps for me yet.”
He winked. “But you did get your spankings.”
Heat flushed her cheeks as she plated their food and sat beside him at the island. He looked at the home cooked meal before him, one she went to great lengths to prepare and a barrage of emotions strangled him. “I still can’t believe this.”
“Well, you said you were craving it and that you couldn’t get home until Christmas so I just thought…”
He bit into the meatloaf and she laughed when he moaned. “So damn good,” he said. “Oh my God, Angel.”
“It’s meatloaf, not sex,” she teased.
He dipped into the mashed potatoes and his eyes rolled. “Please tell me sex is the dessert.”
His eyes fixed on her mouth as she moistened her lower lip. “Dylan—”
She looked far too serious. Wanting to lighten the mood, he said, “You know what’s going to happen if you keep that up.”
She pointed to his plate. “Eat. I don’t want your food to get cold.”
As much as he’d like to drag her to bed, she’d spent hours preparing this meal and he didn’t want to ruin it. He dug his fork into the meatloaf and took a big bite. “Don’t tell mom, but this is better.”
“Liar.”
“Nope. I’d never lie to you.” He shifted his chair so he was closer to her, needing the physical contact. As he looked at her, and looked around her cozy condo, he took in the warmth of her smile, the warmth of her home. A lump caught in his throat and he suddenly had no idea how he could go back to his cold, empty house in L.A. But he’d told her he only wanted a week, and she’d just reminded him of their timeline.
“Angel?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you want in life?”
She bit into her potatoes, shrugged, and waved a hand around her kitchen. “I have everything I want.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised by her response. “I received a script the other day, and you’d be perfect for the lead. All I have to do is make a call.”
“That’s great, but I like to do things my own way.”
“So you’re happy, and there is no other part you’d like to play?”
She angled her head, and there was a longing in her eyes when she said, “I guess someday I’d like to play the part of a wife—to a good old fashioned country boy with values.” She laughed. “I certainly can’t find one of those here in New York. Maybe I should have stayed in Texas.” She shrugged and added, “I’d like to have children, too, a dog and big back yard but I’m just not…” She stopped herself and looked away like she’d said too much.
He put his hand on her nape, and she turned back to him. “But what?”
“Nothing.”
He took in the sadness backlighting her dark eyes, he’d seen it once before when she talked about her mother. “Tell me about your mom.”
“Nothing to tell.”
“You never knew her?”
“She left when I was young, and my older brother and I were handed off to my aunt in Trinity.” A sound crawled out of her throat. “I think my aunt resented having us there, but liked getting the checks that came from the government. My brother moved away after high school and became a firefighter. I left first chance I could and moved to New York for school.
“What do you want in life?” she asked, turning the focus back on him, and it touched him that she cared enough to ask.
“I want what my parents have.” He scoffed. “I guess it’s hard to find a girl with good old-fashioned values in Hollywood.” But here in New York…now that was a different story.
“You’re not happy there,” she said. It was a statement, not a question, but he answered anyway.
“Not really.”
“Then why stay?”
“I…I don’t know.” He guessed he stayed because it was where his work was. Truthfully, he missed New York, missed hanging with his best friend and cousin.
She shifted, staring at her plate of food like it had all life’s answers. She made railroad tracks in her mashed potatoes. “I wasn’t at all happy practicing law, which was why—”
He flinched, his head going back in surprise. “What did you just say?”
“I wasn’t happy practicing law.”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“So that’s why you offered to help with the contract.” He shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around all this. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
“How was that relevant? You asked for a week of sex.” She went quiet for a moment, like she was lost in thought, then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “About that, Dylan. Um, I think this thing between us has run its course and we should…well, you know. The week was fun, but it’s over.”
The room went a little fuzzy around th
e edges, and he flattened one hand on the countertop. “What are you talking about?” He shook his head to clear it, wondering if he’d heard her right. She was breaking it off? Right when he was falling in love with her? How could this be happening? He’d thought she was feeling more, too. And they’d just talked about wanting the same thing out of life.
How could he have read her so wrong? His mind raced, a headache brewing just behind his right eye. Just then her cell phone buzzed, the sound drilling on his frayed nerves. “You going to get that?”
“No, it can wait.”
He grabbed her purse and handed it to her, needing the buzzing to stop. The clasp opened when he set the bag down, and the card from Peter fell onto the table. The word “Producer” written in bold letters mocked him, a reminder of Suzanna, and that everyone in the business wanted something from someone. A rush of anger moved through him. Was that why his angel didn’t want his help? Because she was going to take Peter up on his offer—and Christ knows what else? Had he been so wrong about her, thinking she was different from the women he knew?
“Dylan.” She reached for him, but he pulled away.
A tightness lodged in his throat, tension coiling though him. “Is this what you really want? You want to end this, right now?”
She hesitated for the briefest of seconds and he held his breath, bracing himself. “Yes.”
Fuck.
He shook his head, disbelief and hurt hitting hard as he choked down another lesson. When the fuck would he learn? No one saw him for the man he was, instead they looked at him like a ladder to the next rung on their career. He thought she was different, thought they had something special. A sharp pain stabbed at his heart, anger forming a dark cloud over him. Dumb ass.
“Dylan.”
He held his hand up to stop her, having heard enough. His pulse beat away at the hollow of his throat, his gut churning at the painful truth. With his heart pounding in his throat, he drew a long, unsteady breath and flattened his voice. “You’re right. We should end this now,” he said, and pushed off her stool. “Thanks for dinner.”
“But you didn’t finish it.”
“No, you did.”
Without looking back, he stepped outside and hailed a cab back to his cousin’s place.
He hurried inside and found Chase lounging on the sofa, a cold beer in hand.
“Hey, cuz,” Chase said. “What are you doing back so early?” Dylan scrubbed his chin and Chase eyed him. “And what put you in such a shitty mood?”
After grabbing a beer, he plunked down onto the chair across from Chase and put his feet on the coffee table. “Nothing.”
“Yeah? You could have fooled me.”
“I’m the fool,” he said.
“Girl problems?” Chase asked.
He scoffed. “Something like that.”
“Jesus, I’ve never seen you like this. What did she do?”
“You know, you’d think I would have learned my lesson from Suzanna.”
“Shit.” Chase placed his bottle on the coffee table and braced his elbows on his knees. “Want to talk about it?”
Dylan’s cell rang and he pulled it from his pocket. He wasn’t really in the mood to speak to his agent but swiped his finger across the screen. “Hey, Jeremy,” he said. “What’s up?”
“I just got off the phone with Peter Sinclair. He said he met Angela Stanton when he was at the opening party the other night.”
His gut twisted. “Yeah.”
“He said she flat out turned him down for a role he had in mind for her.” Dylan straightened, nearly dropping the phone on the floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No, and he asked me to reach out to you, to see if you could talk her into coming to L.A.”
Dylan pressed his palm to his forehead. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Idiot. Big fucking idiot.
“Dylan, you there?”
I am such an asshole.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“So you’ll do it?”
His mind raced. If Angel hadn’t ended things because of Peter, then why had she told him it was over? Was she too afraid of getting close? He thought back to everything she’d told him. His stomach squeezed to the point of pain. Jesus, she’d been so hurt, ripped apart by a mother who walked out on her, an aunt who didn’t want her, and a fiancé who didn’t appreciate her for the amazing woman she was. And then there was him, cementing her belief that she wasn’t good enough for long-term by asking for a week of sex. Had she pushed him away first, too worried that he’d only toss her away when the week was over?
Only a week, and he knew her well enough to understand that she’d been letting him go for both their sakes, probably to protect herself from his inevitable departure. But that wasn’t his plan.
Shit. He cared about her. Much more than he’d thought possible.
His heart stuttered and he cursed himself for being such a jerk. She didn’t deserve that from him. She was sweet and genuine, and he was an asshole to think for one second that she’d pull a Suzanna and run off with the producer. She wasn’t anything like his ex. In fact, she’d asked for nothing from him, which made him want to give it to her all the more.
He thought about the part she wanted to play. Wife to a good old-fashioned guy with morals, mother to children.
“Dylan, are you still there?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you talk to her?”
“Yeah, I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure she plays the part that is right for her.”
Chapter Eight
Angie paced inside her apartment. Tonight was the movie premiere, and she didn’t dare turn her television on. Seeing Dylan, especially if he had another woman on his arm, would surely kill her.
A knock sounded on her door, and she wished it were Dylan. Had she made a mistake in pushing him away? Truthfully he’d been nothing but sweet, and it was her insecurities that prompted her to end it before he did. He’d done nothing to indicate he wanted things to be over between them, and sometimes when he looked at her, she was sure he wanted more.
She pulled open her door and found her three best friends standing there, boxes and bags weighing them down.
“What’s going on?”
Eden handed her an invitation. “You’re going to a movie opening.”
She looked at the envelope and conflicting emotions moved through her. As much as she’d love to go, she’d broken it off with Dylan. “Where did you get this?”
“Not important,” Eden said, a mischievous grin on her mouth. “Now let’s get you dressed.” Maria and Janie rushed past her and dropped all the bags onto her coffee table. They started pulling out dresses and shoes and jewelry.
“I’m not going,” she said, but they clearly weren’t listening to her.
Eden grabbed Angie’s T-shirt and tugged it over her head. Janie produced a black push up bra. “Put it on or I’ll do it for you.”
Shocked, Angie blinked at her friends as they went to work on her. A half hour later she’d been made over—hair up, makeup on, and a sexy black dress fitting her to perfection.
“I don’t—”
“Relax, Angie,” Janie said. “This is going to be fun.”
Her three best friends stared at her from the sofa, and she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Like hell you can’t,” Maria said, jumping to her feet. “I just spent a half hour getting your hair right, and you’re going.”
“Plus you’re in love with him,” Janie said.
“I’m—” She was about to protest, to lie, but what was the point? She hadn’t been with him very long, but there was no denying it. She loved him.
She glanced in the mirror and examined her upswept hairdo, touching a few loose tendrils that framed her face.
She wrung her hands together and drew a shaky breath. “But what if he doesn’t feel the same?”
“Trust us on this.” Eden gave her a warm, reassuring smile.
&n
bsp; “Eden—”
“If you never try, you’ll never know. Thanks to your encouragement, I went after the guy I wanted, and now look at us.”
It was true, Eden went after Jay, and Janie went after Kaden. Both found their happily ever afters. But did one exist for her? “Do you really think so, Eden?” God, did she even dare let herself hope? Hadn’t she learned anything from past experiences? “Do you really think he could like me? I mean, you know my history.”
“History is just that—history. It’s time to put it behind you and go for what you want.”
She paced to her window and looked out. Eden picked up Angie’s little black purse and handed it to her. “You’re smart, beautiful, and one of the nicest girls I know. If Dylan doesn’t see that, he’s not worth it, but I really think he does,” she said with a grin. Did Eden know something she didn’t? She turned her toward the door. “Now go, your car is here. We’ll be watching the coverage on TV.”
Angie forced her legs to carry her to the door, and gave her friends a nervous wave as she left her condo building and climbed into the backseat of the limo.
Nerves tight, she mentally braced herself, hoping her friends were right as she shifted restlessly in her seat. She stared out the window, every few seconds wiping her damp hands on her dress. The limo finally stopped and the driver opened her door, cameras flashed in her face. She blinked and shied away.
A man guided her toward the theater where the screening was taking place, and she searched the crowd for Dylan. Was he already inside? Her height, as well as her heels, allowed her to see over the people. Relief moved through her when she spotted Dylan up ahead. She was about to call out to him, but her voice caught in her throat when she saw a beautiful woman in his arms.
She came to a complete standstill and someone crashed into her from behind. She stumbled forward and glanced up in time to see Dylan and the woman kissing. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and from the way he was angling his head, she knew it was not just a friendly kiss. Someone in the crowd shouted for them to get a room. As laughter followed, the knot in her stomach tightened.
