by Dee J. Adams
He’d bet money if she hadn’t moved out of the moonlight, he’d see her blushing. Just another thing to wrap his brain around. He might not have been her first, but in a way, he was.
She snuggled along his side and rested her head on his chest. Her lashes fluttered against his skin. When she sighed, Troy felt a sense of home and peace he’d never known. He’d certainly never felt at home or at peace growing up with his parents. He’d been in Los Angeles as long as anywhere, and he called it home, but he could just as easily pick up and move next week if he wanted to. No place had ever given him the feeling of home. It had been an elusive dream he’d given up on long ago.
But here and now, with Julie in his arms and breathing steadily on his chest, something inside him recognized the difference. This was something he could see himself doing for years. Many, many years.
The bucket of ice water got tossed when Troy’s watch alarm went off at six a.m. He shut it down after the first bell. Julie hadn’t moved a muscle. He could skip the gym and sink into her again. But that would make leaving that much harder. He needed to get the hell out of her bed and stay out. At least until he no longer worked for Sophia.
Julie’s bare thigh was draped over his, her arm wrapped around his chest. He studied the woman who fascinated America. She had one of those faces that could morph into anything. She could be the Hollywood beauty or the sitcom clown. When she smiled, her eyes and face lit up with an inner beauty that could knock out a heavyweight boxer. But when she widened her eyes, pursed her lips or scrunched her eyebrows together, she just as easily turned into the comedienne. Her versatility had made her golden.
And here she was lying in his arms. Beneath the person she showed the world, Julie had the qualities he respected. She was honest, real and nothing like the spoiled actresses he’d come across.
Troy’s dick decided that too much distance separated it from Julie, but Troy slid out of the sheets before he let his other brain decide anything. He dressed quietly and quickly with one thing on his mind.
Distance. He needed distance to regain his footing.
* * *
Julie felt a tickling at her cheek. She registered the ache of sore muscles. Muscles she hadn’t used in a long, long time. She stretched her legs, her heavy lids fluttered open and she stared into Troy’s sweet, serious eyes as he crouched, fully dressed, next to the bed.
“Hey,” he whispered huskily, easing some hair behind her ear. “I have to get to work. I didn’t want you to wake up alone and think...”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Think what?” she murmured. She cleared her rusty throat.
“Think...think I’d deserted you,” he finally said.
She stretched again and her muscles protested. “Mmm.” She hadn’t thought about this moment last night, but now she had no idea what to say. She didn’t expect a commitment from the guy, but did he realize what last night had meant to her? She flushed just remembering that sixty-nine. “You want me to make some coffee before you go?”
He shook his head. His fingers continued to ease through her hair and threatened to put her back to sleep before he even left. “Not necessary.” His lips met hers in a soft kiss and Julie’s pulse increased. Toothpaste fresh. Delicious. He pulled away.
“You’re one brave hombre,” she said.
His smile decimated her. He rarely grinned, but now, with all those straight white teeth flashing at her, she grinned back. “Why’s that?” he asked.
“‘Cause, you kissed me with my morning breath. Yuck.” She scrunched her face into a sour pucker and he chuckled.
“You could eat a clove of garlic and I’d still love kissing you.” He meant it to be funny, but the words intoned something more. Did he mean that the way it sounded or was he just being nice?
Best to keep things light. “Sure, you say that now. Just wait until I eat a clove of garlic and come knocking on your door.” She tried not to sound like a lonely sap who wanted company. His company specifically. The still love kissing you line was music to her ears, but what came next? She wanted to see him again. The idea that last night might’ve been a one-night thing depressed her senseless. What if she’d thoroughly misjudged him? Had she given herself to a man who wanted nothing more than one smokin’ hot night in her bed?
She needed a drink.
That was saying something since not only did she rarely ever drink, but it was still six-something in the morning and way too early to be thinking about liquor.
He grinned wider. “Garlic, onion, morning breath. Hit me with your best shot.” He kissed her again, maybe to prove his point. His lips smoothed over hers softly as his thumb caressed her temple. He was sweet, tender and everything she wanted in a man. He pulled back. “I should go.”
She nodded and licked the lips he’d just thoroughly kissed. She wanted to ask when she’d see him again. Wanted to know if he planned to call her. But he didn’t say anything. He just looked at her. Almost as if he were seeing her for the first time. Or maybe the last time. She would’ve come right out and asked, if it wouldn’t make her look so sad and lonely: So, do you think you’re going to call me after this? Think you might want another fuck in the near future? Her language always got atrocious when she got upset. The last thing she wanted was to scare him off. Being Julie Fraser entailed a lot of baggage and not all men wanted the hassle of the mass publicity. She’d certainly learned that lesson a couple of times.
So, she hid behind a smile the way she was supposed to. The way she’d been taught to do by everyone in the business. Never let anyone see you vulnerable.
She lifted an eyebrow. “For the record, you’re not what I expected.”
He cocked his head to the side. “What did you expect?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
“Macho.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I expected macho. You carried me through a bullet storm and got shot yourself. That screams ‘macho’ like nobody’s business.” She took his hand and linked their fingers. “But that bath in the middle of the night?” The sixty-nine hadn’t been the end of the night. Not by a long shot. “A bath screams sensitive.”
“Yeah?” His slow grin melted her all over again.
“Definitely.”
“I have to admit...” He shook his head as if he’d disappointed himself. “It was a purely selfish act on my part. Watching you come in a hot tub was the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Julie’s cheeks burned hot, but she refused to look away from his dark eyes. Eyes that said way more than the man ever did. “You like me,” she whispered, tracing a finger across his jaw.
He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yeah. I like you. Go to sleep.” He kissed her softly and she enjoyed the warmth and softness of his mouth before he moved away.
“You’re out of here awfully early,” she said after a quick glance at her bedside clock.
“I need to be at Ari’s at seven-thirty. He’s got an eight o’clock meeting.”
“With who?” she asked. Maybe it was one of the investors Ari had told her about. The quicker he got the funding, the quicker he’d decide on casting. But she didn’t want to think about Ari now, when Troy was seconds from walking out the door. “Forget it. I don’t care. I don’t want to talk about Ari. I want to talk about you. I had a great time last night.” She put her hand on his shoulder, rubbed a gentle thumb under his ear. He tipped his head into the caress. They acted like long-time lovers and the sentiment made Julie’s eyes sting.
“So did I,” he said, with a slight nod. “A really great time.”
Enough to want to do it again? But she didn’t ask. The question stayed buried because of too many fears to count. What if this really had been a one-night thing for him? What if he didn’t feel anything more for her than lust?
He leaned in again and kissed her. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
How soon was soon? A few hours? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? The choices killed her. “Okay.” She smiled as he eased away from a last kiss. Almos
t as if he really didn’t want to go as much as she didn’t want to let him go.
But he walked out of her bedroom without a backward glance and whether she wanted it to or not, Julie’s heart went with him.
* * *
Later that morning, before she hit the road for Arizona, her mom dropped off some contracts for an indie film Julie had decided to do. Her agent had sent her an amazing script that had all the ingredients of a sleeper hit. The writer/director was young and new, and the lead role screamed Oscar nominee. Julie had more than enough money to last her several lifetimes, so she’d told her team to look for challenging parts, not necessarily the money ones. They still expected her to do a major film every year or two because they all wanted their cut. She understood how the business worked. She was a commodity and people counted on her for their living, but that didn’t mean she had to sacrifice her whole soul. She’d worked hard to reach this point in her career and no one told her how to live her life. Sure, she was America’s Sweetheart, but she’d learned when it came to business to speak her mind and stand her ground. Too bad she didn’t have the same ability when it came to her love life.
“I looked over the contract,” Elena said, handing over the large manila envelope as they stood at the front door. “It looks good to me.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Julie debated telling her about Troy but decided not to get her mother’s hopes up. “I know you’re tight on time. I just told Steve I’d drop it off ASAP. I should’ve gotten it from you days ago. He is one laid-back associate producer. I feel bad for making him wait.”
Her mom waved her off. “I told him he’d have it by the end of the week, sweetie. Nothing to worry about. And I’m not in that big a hurry to go.”
“Give Uncle Brian my love. Tell him happy birthday from me.” It would be a nice birthday gift if his cancer stayed in remission.
“You know I will.” Elena hugged her and checked her watch. “I’d better hit the road. I still need to get gas.” She opened the front door. “The AC is sputtering out on my car so I think I can count on a fairly miserable drive.”
“What? Are you nuts? You can’t drive to Arizona without AC. You’ll bake. You could fly there. There’s a good chance your plane won’t crash.” Her mother avoided planes whenever possible. “It didn’t when you flew the last time.”
Elena shuddered. “I got lucky. Besides, you know me, I like to cruise with the stereo blasting.”
“Then you should take my car,” Julie said as they walked outside. “This is the perfect time to see what you’re missing.” She’d been trying to persuade her mother for years to get rid of the gas-guzzling old-model Mercedes for something more fuel-efficient.
“I couldn’t take your car all the way to Arizona.” But Elena stopped and tipped her head to the side. “Could I?”
This was the first inclination Julie ever had that her mother might even consider driving something other than her Benz and she pounced on the indecision.
“Of course you can! C’mon, it’s loaded to the gills. I’ve got Sirius radio, GPS, Bluetooth. Hell, the car practically brushes my teeth if I ask it to. You’ll love it, Mom. Please, take my car and I’ll use your Benz. It’ll cost you half the amount to fill up and it’ll take you twice as far.” Julie wasn’t sure about that fact, but it sounded good and she really wanted her mother out of that old car. Despite making great money working as Julie’s manager, Elena still saw no reason to trade something in if it worked right. Maybe now that the AC was on the fritz, she’d consider an upgrade.
“It would be nice not to worry about filling up that often,” Elena hedged. “Not to mention having air conditioning.” She twisted her lips in that way the Fraser women did when deciding something. “You sure you wouldn’t mind? I hate that I’d be taking your car. I’ll be gone for almost a week.”
“What do I care? I’m not going anywhere. I’m just reading scripts this week, working out... You know, the usual drill in between films. You should take it and see if you’re ready to get your own. Twenty bucks says you fall in love and buy a hybrid the second you get back.”
Elena lifted an eyebrow—another Fraser trait that had rubbed off on Julie—and looked skeptical. “You’re on.” She stuck out her hand and they shook on the bet.
Together they moved Elena’s luggage into the Prius, which was still in the garage. She’d been in the car enough times to know how it worked, and Julie watched her excitement build as the idea grew on her.
Julie went inside and got her keys as Elena tossed her purse in the passenger seat through the open driver’s window. They swapped keys and Elena got behind the wheel for the first time. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she closed the door. “This is kind of fun,” Elena admitted as she pressed the power button and put the car into gear.
Julie let her pull out and followed her. She walked to the garden hose because the gardener had failed to coil it behind the bush to keep it out of sight.
“Wait, Julie! I almost forgot.” Her mom jumped out of the car and hurried over with something in her hand. “These are for you. The candy you bought from Margaret’s granddaughter came in.” Elena’s cleaning lady Margaret seemed too young to have a granddaughter, but Julie loved the perks of buying candy and Girl Scout cookies. “I had these in my purse from yesterday.”
Julie took her “World’s Finest” chocolate bars and grinned. “Glad you remembered. I would’ve been pissed if these had gone to Arizona and I’d had to wait for them.”
“Trust me. If they’d been in my purse for the trip, you’d never have seen them at all.” Elena laughed and hugged her. “Bye, love. See you next week.”
“Bye, Mom. Drive safe.”
Elena turned and moved toward the car, still powered in the driveway. She got halfway there, when it exploded into a huge ball of fire.
Chapter Twelve
Flames rocketed into the air as the boom shattered the quiet day. The force and heat threw Julie back about eight feet. Dazed, she opened her eyes. She’d landed on the lawn near the front flowerbed. Debris covered the yard. Little patches of flaming embers dotted the grass. The for-sale sign had snapped in two and the top half had landed in the street. Her mother lay in front of her on the lawn, unmoving.
“Mom!” she called. She forced herself up. Her leg burned as she ran, but she didn’t care. “Mom!” she screamed again as a wave of panic and despair made her tremble. She knelt by her mother. Scratches covered her face and arms and blood seeped from a wound on her head. “Mom,” she said more quietly this time. Tears flowed freely as she struggled to get her phone from her back pocket. Her fingers shook so bad she could barely press 9-1-1.
“I n-need an ambulance. There was an e-explosion,” she stammered as soon as a man answered. Her voice shook. All of her shook. She rattled off her address. “My mother is hurt. Please hurry. Oh God, you have to hurry.”
“Help is on the way. Are you hurt, ma’am? Do you need help as well?”
She shook her head and realized he couldn’t see her. “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” she said. “I need to do something, call someone...” Who? Who should she call?
The dispatcher said something, but she wasn’t paying any attention.
A face popped into her head. Troy. Troy would help her. He’d know what to do. He’d been there for her when she’d needed him most.
“I have to go, I need the phone,” Julie said.
“Ma’am, don’t hang up!”
But Julie disconnected the call and fumbled once again with her phone. She had Troy’s number in her call log.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey there, I—”
“Troy!” She all but sobbed his name, her panic and fear as evident as the burning car in front of her.
“Julie, where are you? What’s wrong?” His upbeat tone disappeared and the serious voice she knew too well demanded answers.
She took a breath, but every muscle shook. “At home. I’m at home. My car... I need help!” She held back anothe
r sob as she stared at her mother. She needed to help her mother, and Troy couldn’t do it from wherever he was. Where was her brain? “I have to go. My mother... I have to go.” She dropped the phone and bolted into the house. She grabbed some towels from the front bathroom and ran back outside.
“Mom, please don’t die. Please, please don’t die.” Julie rocked back and forth and her phone rang from the grass. Troy’s name flashed on the screen. She picked it up, punched the screen.
“Don’t hang up on me. Goddammit. Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No.” But even as she said it, she noticed the scrapes and cuts along her arms and they made her look more closely at the burning in her leg. Her jeans were wet, dark on her thigh. Something had cut her. “Yes. A little, but I’m okay. My mom is hurt. She’s bleeding.” Sirens wailed in the distance, still at the bottom of the canyon. “She’s unconscious.” A fresh surge of panic rose in her chest. “I can’t... I don’t know what to do. I hear the ambulance, but it’s not here yet. I don’t know what to do,” she cried.
“Put pressure on her wound, Julie.” He sounded calm and in control. She would’ve paid money to be calm and in control.
“I’m doing that.” She continued to rock back and forth. A helicopter came into view overhead and circled. The car continued to burn and the black noxious fumes billowing high made her sick to her stomach. The longer she sat there the more her leg hurt.
“Stay on the line with me. Don’t hang up.”
Julie shook her head. “She was going to take my car to Arizona. It just blew up. She was walking back to get inside and it just...” She took a ragged breath. “She can’t die. She can’t die.”
“Keep pressure on her wound. She’s breathing, right? She’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I’m on my way.”
The wailing sirens got louder and a couple of minutes—that felt like forever—later, two fire trucks and paramedics pulled to a stop in front of her house.
“They’re here. Help is here. I have to go.” She disconnected before he said anything, not that she’d have heard him anyway between the sirens and the helicopter overhead. Hot tears scalded her cheeks as men rushed in to help. Firefighters leaped out of the truck and pulled off hoses from the back.
