Sexy Bachelor

by Maggie Monroe

  “I wouldn’t leave without doing that.” I moved toward the door. “Bye, Flora.” I closed the door behind me and headed to the beach where Carl would be sitting with his pole, waiting for the fish to bite.

  ***

  The ferry crew waved me on the ramp. I had barely made it. When I pulled up and realized I was at the end of the line, a sliver of hope surfaced that maybe I didn’t have to leave Brees Island. Even though I knew there wasn’t any reason to stay. It only brought her more pain if I tried to see her, and I was done causing her pain.

  I parked behind a pickup truck and waited for the crew to put the blocks under my tires before stepping out of my Jeep. It might hurt, but I was going to take in every mile of the island while the ferry floated me toward the mainland. I needed to memorize it. I heard the horn blow and I leaned against the railing, letting the wind whip my hair. I pulled my glasses over my eyes and watched Brees Island slip farther away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Chelsea

  It had been a week, and in those moments when I focused on something else, breathing wasn’t as painful. It should have been an amazing week. I signed the contract with Blue Steel Records, thanks to my father. I still hadn’t come to terms with the steps we had taken in our relationship. It seemed different somehow. Maybe at some point I could talk to him about what he was doing with Eileen, but I was nowhere near ready for that. Right now, we were on speaking terms and he was helping me sort through the business aspect of my first contract. It was something new and delicate.

  As phenomenal as the contract was—and the prospect of working with Quinn Jansen—I was experiencing it all blurred and hazy from the numbness that crept in when I wasn’t looking.

  His name was Ben Baldwin. Ben Baldwin, I tried saying it so many times, but feeling the betrayal surge through every time it passed over my lips always stopped me cold.

  Was any of it real? I had asked myself that question repeatedly. I stared at the ceiling, rocked in my hammock, drank a bottle of wine, and ran on the beach, asking that question. Was it real?

  The question had rooted in my heart, and the only way to deal with it was to write about it. The lyrics came out in complete verses, pouring forth with every tear and every sob that shook me.

  Every time I heard from him, I shut him out. I didn’t want to hear excuses or justifications for the lies even though I craved them. It felt like weakness invading my body how desperately I wanted to know how sorry he was. If I heard just the right words, maybe the nightmare would go away and I could slide into his arms where the world was safe and calm. But I kept pushing his chance away. It scared me to face him.

  I realized I was completely new to the ways of the rich and famous, but when my landlady, Mrs. Gaits, showed up to hand me real estate papers, I almost fainted. Ben had bought my house. Well, he bought it for me. There was a letter enclosed. He wanted me to have a place that was all mine, that I didn’t have to share or worry about nosey neighbors. I thought it was ironic, considering none of my neighbors were the ones who ratted me out to the press. It was all people he knew.

  While I was still trying to absorb my new homeowner status, a van pulled up from Banks Security. Ben had called the company to install a security system. He didn’t send a letter with them. Reluctantly, I let the men in. It was highly unlikely my life would be under the media microscope again, but I agreed that if it ever were, I’d rather lockdown in my place instead of Casa del Paul.

  The biggest highlight of the week had to be the call with Quinn Jansen. Quinn had called me, and I almost flipped right out of my hammock. She sounded like any other twenty-five-year-old girl—happy, fun, in love with music. I knew we instantly clicked. I trusted her with my music.

  Trust. The word had many layers and folds. I had never known it to be such a gray fabric until this week. The one person I had given myself to completely had betrayed me. The one person I considered the island’s biggest liar, I had entrusted with my music career.

  I ran my fingers through my hair, closing my eyes. Maybe some time away from Brees Island would take the hurt away, redefine normal, and restore some balance in my life. It was only a four-day trip to Austin to meet with Brandon and Quinn, but it was a welcome distraction.

  I stepped from my car. I always liked to watch from the railing when the ferry horn sounded the departure. It was like embarking on a new journey every time.

  The salt air filled my lungs, and I leaned against the ship’s wall. The sun felt good on my face. I shifted left, watching the foam bubble up in the wake of the ferry. My eyes trailed along the crowd who had gathered to wave good-bye to the island. I froze. My heart quickened. It was him. Ben Baldwin was standing fifty feet away, leaning against the ferry. Before I could dart back to my car, he saw me. And there was no hiding, no escaping. He was walking, dodging children, bikes, and cars to get to where I was.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Ben

  My heart pounded and my head raced. She was there. Chelsea was on the ferry. If I could get there fast enough, I could touch her. That was fucking stupid. It was the last thing she wanted. Maybe I could talk to her.

  I zigzagged between cars, never realizing fifty feet could be so far away.

  “Chelsea!” I shouted. She was turning from the railing, and I worried that she might lock herself in her car. I couldn’t blame her. There were a lot of reasons to lock me out.

  I jogged to her. She was close to the bow, where there was an open platform too narrow for cars to pull forward.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  The urge to reach for her and pull her against my chest was unbearable. Why was that the first thing I said, instead of ‘you’re beautiful and I’m an idiot’?

  “I’m going to meet with Brandon,” she answered, hiding her blue eyes behind sunglasses.

  There wasn’t a right thing to say. I didn’t have words that could undo how badly I had fucked up. But I had to try. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Maybe she would listen.

  “We can’t talk about this right here. I won’t talk about it.”

  “Why not?” I pressed. “You deserve answers. You deserve the truth.”

  “The truth?” she scoffed. “Now you’re interested in honesty? I’m finally leaving Brees and you want to talk about taking the blindfold off your lies?” She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to hear any of it. Just let me get back to my car.”

  I blocked her path. “No.” My lips pressed together.

  “No?”

  “You heard me.” It was my last chance. “We have one hour until we get to the other side of the sound. One hour. After I’m done, if you don’t want to, you never have to talk to me again.”

  Her hair blew around her bare shoulders.

  She pointed at a line of people behind me. “But, see? There’s an audience. I’m not interested in making the news again. I’m not interested in anything that has to do with Ben Baldwin’s life.”

  Damn it. Tourists and their smart phones. I searched for somewhere we could hide. If I let her drive off this ferry, it would be final. There would be no second chance.

  I grabbed her by the hand, ignoring her attempt to jerk it back.

  “Let go.” She wiggled.

  “Follow me. You’re going to listen.” I was more stubborn than she was. And stronger.

  I climbed a set of stairs to the lounge, tugging Chelsea behind me. There were several couples and a family enjoying the air conditioning inside the cabin.

  Chelsea huffed as I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet.

  “Listen up.” I cleared my throat, competing with the hum of the ferry engine. “I’ve got a hundred dollars for each of you if you’ll give me the courtesy of having this room for the rest of the ride,” I announced.

  Chelsea looked at me as if I had announced I was about to start breaking kneecaps. “You can’t be serious.”

  “But, it’s all or nothing, folks. Everyone out or no cash.” I ignored
her glare and started counting out the bills. I had enough to pay off these people and the ones downstairs.

  “You got it.” The first dad collected his money.

  “Yep, we can enjoy the view downstairs.” And older couple smiled.

  “Thank you.” The last pair collected their two hundred dollars.

  I slid a chair under the door handle to make sure we didn’t have any more interruptions.

  “Ok. We’re alone. No cameras, no people. You and me.” I turned toward Chelsea.

  She stacked her hands on her hips. “You paid them off!”

  I shook my head. “You don’t get it. I want to be alone with you. Yes, I paid them off. I would clear out my bank account to be alone with you.”

  “And buy beach houses with it?” she fumed.

  “You didn’t like that? I thought you’d want your own place and that way you can keep it secure. You love it there.” I wanted to protect her. It seemed like the best way.

  She spun on her heels and looked out the window. “I do love it, but I don’t love being bought. Is that what being a movie star is all about?” Her eyes narrowed. “You buy people’s silence? Their loyalty? Their love? Is that how it works for you?”

  That hurt, but I deserved it. I had given her every reason to believe I was a dick instead of just being myself from the beginning.

  I inhaled all the air my lungs would take in. I needed strength. I needed the speech of my life to get her back. I needed a damn Oscar-worthy script.

  “Chels.” I sighed. “I lied to you about who I was. I lied. I am a liar. But—”

  “No. There are no buts for lying. Everything was dishonest and concocted.” She ran her hands through her hair. Her voice was quiet. “Why couldn’t you just tell me your name? Two words—it was only two words,” she pleaded as she lowered into the chair.

  I looked out the window. There were people gathered below with cameras. By now, they knew I had handed out cash to reserve the lounge. I reached above each window and tugged on the pulleys until all the blinds were closed.

  It was as if she was in a trance. She kept talking, so I kept listening. “Did you think I cared about your money or about your fame? Did you really think it mattered to me that you’re a movie star? I haven’t even seen any of your damn movies!”

  “Ok, I get what I did was wrong. And no, I never thought that stuff mattered to you. I know you don’t care if I have fifty million dollars or enough to buy us dinner.”

  Her eyes flared. “No, I didn’t want any of that from you. That’s not what we were about.”

  Here she was telling me the things I had known and felt since the first day on the docks. There were more important things in life, and I would give every cent I had if I could trade my life in and stay on Brees Island with her.

  “I was stupid and made the biggest mistake of my entire life. Believe that.”

  A tear rain down her cheek. “How can I believe anything you say? You have lost all credibility.”

  I kneeled in front of her, wanting to wipe the tear from her face, but knowing she would probably slap me if he tried to touch her.

  “Can I tell you why I came to Brees Island?” It was a story she needed to know. I waited for her to answer.

  She nodded. “Why not? I’m locked here.”

  “Because I wanted normal. I wanted my life back. Becs and I were dating.” I noticed her eyes flared at the mention of Rebecca. “And she went to Hawaii to shoot another film. Anyway, she hooked up with some guy and it made headlines.”

  “I remember that story,” Chelsea whispered.

  “The headlines got it wrong. I wasn’t heartbroken. She and I were done before she ever cheated. But I was tired of my personal live being splashed across every magazine and making the entertainment channels. It was humiliating to see another one of my failures on display for everyone to see. I was fucking embarrassed. And done. I was done with being a headline. Done with Becs. With relationships. All of it.

  “So, I got drunk. Woke up to what was my life and decided something had to change. That was only going to happen if I did something different. I bought a Jeep, and started driving. I drove as far as I could, and when the road ran out, I hopped this ferry and rode it until I ended up on Brees.”

  Her eyes glistened. “You just ditched your Hollywood life to live in a camper all summer?” she questioned.

  “I didn’t have a plan or even a reservation. I slept in the campground because the hotels were closed when I drove in. Carl suggested Silver Sand Dollar, and she was perfect. Something I didn’t even know I needed. No one knew where to find me.”

  “But you told everyone you were here as a writer, or was start that lie just for me?”

  I knew the writer cover hit her hard. It was a connection she thought we shared.

  “I made it up as I went along. I didn’t know who I could trust. Who would sell me out. Who would take pictures of me on the beach or drinking a beer. As far as I knew, everyone was a photographer in tourist’s clothing,” I admitted.

  I tried to smile. I wanted her to understand. But from the outside I knew it sounded ungrateful and selfish to slap the hand that helped build my fame and fortune. At one time, pictures of me were the thing that made me popular. The paparazzi pushed me to the pinnacle of fame.

  “I don’t get it, though. Why did you take the job at the store? You didn’t need to do that. You didn’t have to take it that far,” she attacked.

  “Because of you.” I kept my voice low. If she would just let me hold her, I could fix it. “You looked so miserable and I couldn’t stand to see a pretty girl like you with that look on your face. God, Chelsea, you are the most beautiful and amazing woman I have ever known.”

  “But you didn’t even know me.” She sniffed. “Why would you stock boxes and waste your time in a stupid kayak stand?”

  I had done a lot of things to impress girls before, but truly, a summer as a clerk had to be at the top of the list. I wished she could grasp the significance.

  I grinned at her. “Come on. You know me. I like to make you smile.”

  “I don’t know if I do know you.” Her voice was bitter.

  “But you do. I swear, you know the real me that none of those people out there do.” I pointed to the door. “I was me when I was with you. I know you don’t believe it. I don’t deserve for you to believe it, but I was me with you. For the first time in a long time, I got to be the man I should be.”

  Other than the hum from the ferry, the room was quiet. She was too quiet. I hoped it meant she was thinking through my words.

  “Ben.” She said it calmly.

  “Yes, it’s Ben.” I searched her eyes for any clue as to what she was feeling. I felt lost and desperate, knowing the time was ticking on the ride.

  “Ben Baldwin.” The name whispered over her lips.

  Patience wasn’t my strong suit. If she made me sit here one more second without telling me how she felt, I was afraid my fist would end up inside the wall of the ferry.

  “Chelsea, please look at me.” Her eyes drifted to mine. “I will do anything and everything for another chance with you. I am so sorry.”

  She stared, her eyes tearing at my soul. “Did you make me fall in love with you as part of the charade?”

  It was as if she had pushed all the air from my body. “God, no. No.”

  How could she think that? I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached for her neck, my hands tangling in her hair, and crushed my mouth against hers.

  She pushed against my chest and her warm lips fought the kiss, but I wrapped my arm around her tighter. The pain in my chest eased as I inhaled her scent and took her mouth with deeper kisses.

  She climbed into my lap, her hands tugging on me in all directions. Nothing had ever felt like this. My hand slid along her back. Our arms twisted and franticly grasped at any part of each other we could touch. I never wanted her this badly.

  Chelsea sat forward, breaking the kiss and pushing against my chest.

/>   “I-I— We can’t. We do this too quickly. It’s too easy to touch each other like everything’s normal. When I know it’s not normal. You are a movie star. This is not normal.” She pulled her leg from my waist, and braced herself to stand. “You can’t seduce me back to you.”

  My chest heaved and my stomach tightened. I stood to catch her before she made it to the door. This wasn’t over.

  “You don’t think that’s what this is, do you? We have something that goes way beyond sex.” The sex was fucking incredible, but I needed her.

  She leaned against the door. “I thought we did. At least I did before Rebecca showed up.”

  Damn it, Becs.

  “How about the poem I wrote for you? Or the beach glass I saved from the hurricane? And seriously, I wore the ugliest apron on the planet for you. I wouldn’t have done any of those things for a summer hook up. You mean more than that. I didn’t have to do a damn thing, but I did. I choose you. I wanted you.”

  I watched her biting her bottom lip, her resolve slipping. But she turned for the door, trying to wrestle the chair braced under the handle.

  “Chelsea, stop.”

  She twirled. “That power you had over me is gone. You don’t have that control now.” Her eyes burned into mine.

  “But you do.” I reached for her wrist.

  “What?” Her eyes darted back and forth.

  “I am only on this damn ferry because I thought it was what you wanted. I don’t want to leave, but I will do anything to make you happy again. If that means leaving or if that means staying.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “You, are the one in control.” I caressed the side of her throat.

  Her eyes closed, and I didn’t know if she was fighting off the feeling or taking it all in. What else could I say? What else could I do to prove that I had fucked up, and if she would let me, I would make it up in every way possible.

  “Say something.”

  I was about to try to kiss her again, when her long lashes opened. I saw the fire in her blue eyes. The fire that kept me up at night. The one that distracted me when I least expected it.