by MK Meredith
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
His lip quirked up at one corner. “That’s how I did it. How I do most things. One thing at a time.”
Addi pulled in a breath. “I’m sorry…about your mom.”
Roque watched as worry creased Addi’s brow. She glanced away as if she couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. He wished he knew what she was hiding. He’d help her through whatever it was. She had to know that by now.
The hanging lights strung from trees and bushes cast dancing shadows across her features.
Emotions welled in him, stretching his chest and tightening his gut, exhausted from fighting for his future the past few weeks. No one had ever understood him as well as she did, and he could see what a rare gift it was.
He hummed a comforting melody and pulled her into the gentle sway of a dance. Warmth radiated from her breasts to his chest. She had such a hold on him, and he had no idea just how deep it went or even when it had started—but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The hollow ache in his gut lessened with each passing moment spent with her.
She sighed dreamily. “What song is that?”
A sharp tug of awareness silenced him. “What do you mean?”
“You hum this tune now and again; it’s familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
He thought about her question. It was his mother’s favorite song. It played at her wedding, in the background of his childhood memories—at her funeral. Funny it came to mind whenever she was around.
Instead of answering, he brushed his lips over one brow, then the other. He pulled back and smiled, gratitude releasing the tight grip of his emotions. She drew him out from behind the walls he’d constructed. He could be real with her in a way he hadn’t realized he missed. “Thank you.”
The blush that crept up her neck endeared her to him even more. How she could be shy after all they’ve experienced together, he had no idea.
Looking up at him from beneath her lashes, she whispered, “You’re welcome.”
It reminded him of the first time she’d looked at him, like that first day he’d gone to her bungalow, though then it was challenge and feigned seduction fueling the look, not modesty.
People passed by, walking hand in hand, some with children running ahead to the little playground located in the center of the courtyard. The lighthearted melody of laughter and candid conversations offered the best background music.
“You saved the film.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t, I…” Her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip. “Roque…”
Her modesty was sweet. “Thank you.”
She pressed her lips together with a small shake of her head, then let out a breath. “You have a lot of work to do.”
The fact that she understood showed him he just might be right. He hadn’t been able to make a relationship work before because of his hours and his passion for his job.
But with Addi… This might be the one relationship he didn’t wreck.
Chapter 17
Addi followed Roque to the kitchen table, her mouth watering as the savory aromas escaping from the casserole pulled her to her seat. She admired his confident, languid stride. He walked as if he had all the time in the world, but even if he didn’t, he’d get there in time. They’d spent the last couple days making phone calls to the crew and getting Gage up to speed on the project. The two men would rock the film if the way they jumped right in was any indication.
But Addi? She was in avoidance mode. After the coffee shop, Roque said he wanted to talk. But she couldn’t talk. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to say, and it terrified her. She wanted him, wanted to spend time with him, but he could never find out. He hated secrets, hated lies. They could never have a life together. She’d barely gotten started fixing her own.
But she couldn’t put him off any longer without having him question why. He pulled out her chair, and she could feel his eyes on her bottom as she sat down. Heat rushed across her skin and not one degree of it from embarrassment. She pushed her concerns aside, determined to enjoy the evening. She was in paradise with a beautiful man.
“Have I told you I love that dress?”
She smoothed her hands down her sides as if suddenly self-conscious, playing up the innocence in her tone. “This dress?”
He settled into a chair across from her, holding her gaze. “It distracts me, makes me think of you in nothing at all. I have a well-researched topography of your body in my mind. Every dip, every hollow, your taste, your sound—”
She really enjoyed this playful side. On set, he was all business, so it felt like he reserved it just for her. Holding his gaze, she lowered her voice. “Two can play at that game, you know.” Pulling his hand toward her, she nipped the end of his thumb then soothed it with her tongue. “And against me, you’ll lose every time.”
He grinned at her. “Then my plan is working. Hungry?”
“Dessert.”
“Of course, I have something planned for later.”
“Later? Have we met?” She snorted. “You’ll get me dessert now.”
Roque laughed, hard and long, the kind that made her stomach ache in the best possible way, and she smiled.
Clearing his throat, he pushed back from the table, and her eyes stuck on how the corner of his lip turned up on one side when he was amused. “Dessert, how could I even entertain the idea of no dessert? Chocolate éclairs are your staple. Besides, after everything you’ve done for me, you deserve it.” He made a quick trip to the refrigerator, and she took advantage of his turned back to pull in a shaky breath.
She deserved something, all right. Shifting in her seat, she pasted a smile on her face. “I’m so happy everything is working out.”
After setting out a molten lava cake, a plate of éclairs, and a cheesecake, Roque took his seat across from her and stared. “You still don’t understand what you’ve done.” He leaned his elbows on the table, sending a hint of his cologne past her with the movement. “You’ve saved the film. Gage has brilliant insight. We see things in a similar way, which makes me excited about what we’re going to do with the film.”
Her heart went warm and cold at the same time. Saying she saved the film was like saying the drunk captain of a sinking ship saved the passengers. Thank God she’d already moved to the other hotel. Otherwise she feared she might be sick.
She pulled her eyes from his and looked at the desserts. “This is amazing. You covered all the important dessert groups.”
“Addi.”
His tone demanded she acknowledge what he was saying, but she couldn’t. So instead she said, “I’m so happy for you. For Gage, too.”
“Why do I get the impression you keep changing the subject?”
She shrugged, her tongue tying on any explanation she might have given.
He narrowed his eyes, then reached for one of the desserts. “Here, try this.” He placed a chunk of molten lava cake on his fork, topping it with a bit of whipped cream, and held it for her, then took a bite of his own.
“Oh my God. That is divine.” She’d always been a sucker for dessert, but watching him eat the chocolaty treat made her hungry for something spicy—preferably with him naked.
Addi nodded and pulled in a shaky breath. “Did you ever find out where some of the rumors have been coming from? Anyone who wouldn’t want to see you succeed?”
“This is Hollywood; no one but my family and friends wants me to succeed, and a few in that mix may not, either.”
She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “Hollywood. Why do you even bother? From what I’ve seen, there’s nothing but scandal and sabotage.”
“Well, you’re right and wrong. A world surrounded in luxury, pleasure, and glamour is all about escapism. Very few live in the center of or benefit from such indulgence, but everyone—anyone—can get a taste, a feel, a hint of the good life.” He paused, then gestured toward her with his hand. “You are my reason. And people like you. Movieg
oers, lovers of a good tale. For me to fill my world with the creation of stories and lives, dreams and failures, tragedies and triumphs, there’s no better outlet than movies. To make something that enters homes around the world and makes people feel, really feel, even if only for a second, well then, I made a difference. I made a moment.”
He reached across the table and slid his fingers under her hand, running his thumb along her sensitive skin. The sensation shot up her arm, so strong the caress almost burned.
“I want to make moments with you, Addi.” The sincerity in his eyes tightened her throat. Shit! He’d distracted her with his unexpected idealism.
He reached his other hand across the table, now holding hers between his. “I care about you. I can’t get you out of my head. It’s not just what you did for the film but what a friend you’ve become. I can’t make promises. I don’t do commitments. They haven’t been something that’s worked for me, but I can see myself with you.”
She stilled, unable to move, and stared at him. He also didn’t do secrets or lies. Hell, she’d already struck out before the game had begun. Panic, and then something altogether warmer, spread through her chest. Slowly the truth sank in. She was the one who was screwed because hearing him say the words was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard. What was she going to do?
She bit her lip, restless in her seat. “I don’t know what to say. I care about you, too. You have to know that.” And she did. So much so the idea that he’d ever find out about her original plan made her stomach hurt. She swallowed, her throat dry.
All her efforts were to try to make amends for that. Helping with the film was one way.
But this whole thing between them was something more. She recognized the rarity of it all. He saw a woman when he looked at her. A capable, sexy woman. She gripped his hand. “I feel it, too. Whatever it is we have here.”
He raised a brow. “Why do you sound so scared?”
“Because I am. There’re so many things—”
Leaning forward, he whispered, “What do you have to be afraid of?”
She looked down at her plate.
They sat in silence, leaving her heart to both soar and take a nose dive at the same time. Not a comfortable feeling. She cared for him, but she couldn’t do anything about it until she figured out what to do about herself. Their whole relationship was surrounded in secrets and tiny pinpoints of deceit. She’d have to find a way to fix that before she could even begin to contemplate anything else. So his inability to commit long-term worked for her. The thought actually comforted her. She couldn’t do anything long-term, either. They really were in a similar place.
Now she grinned. Being with him was going to feel so good in more ways than one.
“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”
She smiled at him and slid her hand along the top of his on the table. He turned his over, and she traced the calluses along the top of his palm. “I’m absolutely okay.”
She released him and stood from the table, suddenly filled to the brim with nerves. What the hell did she have to be nervous about now? Knowing he was as into her as she was into him should ease her mind and her libido, not make it worse.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I need a drink.”
“What?”
She walked to the corner cabinet where she kept her liquor. Grabbing a scotch and two tumblers, she spun, holding them up in front of her. He didn’t have to know she was fighting a war between freaking out and jumping his bones. “This calls for a drink. A celebration. The film is underway. And so are we. So to speak.”
He laughed. “It’s five thirty.”
“Which means it’s what, eight thirty back east? The whole coast already has over two hours on us.” She poured a finger of amber liquid into each glass and then held one up to him, praying it would erase her worries. “Besides, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the teetotaler type.”
A smile spread his mouth wide. Oh, what she’d like to do to that mouth, which was part of the problem really. Spending time with him, sharing secrets, and getting used to seeing his beautiful face every day would be too easy. The end promised to hurt like hell. But what was a little pain for a lot of pleasure?
She already cared for him. She’d just make sure she didn’t fall in love with him. Her mind left little doubt that would only make it worse. She chuckled. It was odd—she, a romance writer and a die-hard romantic, was trying to figure out how “bad” it would be to fall in love. But fiction was fiction, and this was real life, her life, and she knew better.
“What are you laughing about?”
She shook her shoulders. Enough. They had a film to shoot, she had books to write, and she’d get to make love to this delicious man whenever she wanted for however long it lasted. A pretty good deal all around.
“The look on your face. Lighten up. It’s only Scotch.” She held up her drink until he touched his glass to hers. “To a successful film and lots of sex.”
Roque grinned playfully. “Who said anything about sex?”
She stared him down and shot back her Scotch. The burn rose in her throat like a volcano. Her eyes watered, and she blew out her breath until the Scotch settled.
Roque stared at her as if he’d encountered a crazy woman. He didn’t know the half of it. She’d have to thank Chase later; their determination to handle Scotch led them to many tastings at the local bars. They always imagined a woman handling her Scotch was sexy.
By the look in his eyes, they were right.
“I’m not sure if I should be afraid or impressed.”
Setting her glass on the counter, she turned and eyed him up and down. He stood in his usual attire of perfection. Navy suit pants with a light blue dress shirt and mahogany wing tips. He’d lost his jacket and tie in the car.
He sipped from his glass, eyeing her back.
Emotion filled her chest, and she pulled in a breath to ease the sensation. He’d knocked her from her secure footing enough when they had dinner at the house. He cared for her? She couldn’t allow the idea to enter her mind without her insides going liquid and her knees melting.
The warmth of the Scotch rushed across her chest and fingered up the sides of her neck, leaving her feeling hot and more than a little daring. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she raised her arms and released her hair from its pins. She shook it out, her eyes never leaving his.
Her lip popped from between her teeth, and she ran her tongue along it.
Roque’s eyes followed the movement, and he took another sip from his glass.
Thanks to copious amounts of yoga, she reached behind her back and lowered the hidden zipper. It delighted her to know she only wore a scrap of material underneath. Revealing that to Roque excited her in ways she hadn’t imagined. She wanted to tease him, play with him—and then take him. Like a boss. Her grin was nothing if not devilish.
Her breath came out in little Scotch-fumed pants as she lowered one side of the dress and then the other. She hesitated with the fabric at her breasts until his eyes honed in. With his attention secured, she pulled down the dress, and her breasts sprung free over the silky material.
“Shit.” He stepped forward and abandoned his drink on the counter.
She pulled the top of her dress back over herself and made a ticking sound with her tongue, teasing him. “Uh-uh, you stay right there.”
“Addi.”
“Roque.”
With a scowl, he retreated back to the counter and grabbed his drink. Downing it, he coughed and sucked in his breath. “I still don’t know how the hell you managed that.”
She smiled. “A woman knows how to handle her liquor.” Then she proceeded to run her tongue over her top lip.
Again, she pulled the fabric free and then pushed it down her body to pool at her feet. She toed out of her heels and stood tall in nothing but a small silky triangle the color of caramel.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he whispered.
She continued
to watch him watch her as she trailed her fingers up her sides and over the tips of her breasts, awakening her nipples to perky attention. They ached for his mouth, for the rough contrast of his callused hands, but she resisted the urge to step in to him and rub her body up and down the length of his.
She continued to run her fingers up and over her collarbone and into her hair, turning her head to the side and closing her eyes. With slow, purposeful movements, she traced the same path down her body and stopped above the top of her panties.
“Addi.”
She lifted her head and opened her eyes, smiling. He ached. She knew it because she did, too. Their bodies worked better together than apart. She could barely wait to feel him slide into her, but refusing to rush it heightened every sensation. Every touch, every scent, the heat radiating from their bodies, the sounds of their ragged breathing when they hadn’t yet touched.
She held his gaze and dipped her fingers below the edge of her panties. His eyes left her face and followed her hand. With each slide of her fingers, his fists clenched. They were the only part of him that moved. Had she broken him of his stillness? She didn’t dare to think she was that powerful—but.
“Take off your clothes, Roque.” She slipped a condom from her purse.
He dropped his pants and kicked off his shoes, his movements quick but sure—there was no fumbling from this man. His shirt followed.
Stepping close, she wrapped her hand around him, then holding his gaze with her own, slowly rolled the latex all the way down, finishing with a light graze of her nails against the sensitive skin of his heavy balls. Without any other words, he stepped in to her and lifted her to his chest. She wrapped her legs about his waist and lowered onto him.
“Oh my God.” She moaned the words as he filled her, spread her, challenged her body. She met that challenge, happily.
“Fuck. You tease.”
She nipped his neck and held on tight. “Like you’d want me any other way.”
He growled and pressed her against the refrigerator door.
Addi lost herself. She reached high and gripped the top of the door. The knowledge that if he let go she’d fall only heightened her pleasure, opened her vulnerabilities, and increased her excitement. The contrast of the cold steel against her back volleyed with the heated flesh along her front. She knew which she’d prefer alone, but together it was more than she’d imagined.
