by Taylor Hart
She turned away and snapped a picture, pretending that his cologne had no effect on the butterflies in her stomach. Pretending she hadn’t dreamed about kissing him last night. Pretending this ever-increasing attraction she felt for him meant nothing.
“You could have texted me back. Or called.”
“I don’t have a phone.” Sayla kept a straight face as she bantered with him.
“You didn’t notice the one I left on your nightstand?”
“Oh, I notice everything.” She turned and looked straight at him. “I’m just very picky about what I pay attention to.”
A light laugh came out of him, and he got closer to her, his eyes on her lips.
“How’d Alaska go?” she asked, her heart hammering inside her chest.
“He’s letting me co-direct in a few months.” He grinned, and his eyes lit up. “If you were less picky, you might have answered my call.”
Sayla was pleased, but didn’t want to show it.
“You’re biting your lip.”
“So what.”
Slowly, he traced her lips with his finger.
Her heart rate spiked even more.
His lips widened, and he pulled his finger back. “You shouldn’t bite your lip. It’s clearly your tell.”
“My tell?” Man, she wanted him to kiss her. She felt like an addict who needed a fix.
“I’m surprised Summer hasn’t given you poker player one-oh-one. I mean, with how much you’ve been hanging out with her. Hunter’s a pro. It’s how he won the land they live on.”
“Really?” It was funny to her that he seemed nervous. Defiantly, she quit biting her lip, sticking out her chin to put on a strong front. “Okay, so what’s your tell?”
He shrugged. “Good poker players never give up secrets.”
Letting it go, but annoyed at how much she wanted to know, she opted to twirl her chain at her neck. The electricity between them could start a forest fire.
The back of his hand pressed lightly on her cheek. “The funny thing about standing here with you is the past four days it’s been the only thing I could think of. You. You being okay. Me, being able to touch your face. Your lips.”
She was sure he would do just that any second now. Butterflies on crack pounded in her gut, but she turned and looked into his eyes. “You know what happened the last time you kissed me.”
He traced her face down her jaw line. His hand pushed into her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Sayla.”
It hurt how much the words meant to her. “You’re wrecking my hair.”
With a hand on her neck, he gently pulled her closer, staring into her eyes. “Maybe it needs to get wrecked. Maybe you need to be shaken up.”
She wanted to scream that he made her feel things she couldn’t deal with. Instead, she quietly held her ground.
He traced her face again, gently tracing her lips. He pulled his hand back and searched her eyes. “I’ll make you kiss me next time.”
“What?”
He took her hand. “I think you should ask me to kiss you.”
Sayla wanted to slap him again to get back at him for teasing and because she did want to kiss him, but now he’d made it a thing. “Yeah, right.” She didn’t pull back her hand.
Giving her hand a squeeze, he grinned. “I’ll wait.”
“I dreamed about you.” She blurted out.
He smiled. “Again?”
Not trusting herself, she looked at the lake. “I hate you.”
He laughed and pulled her closer, his hand encircling her waist. “Tell me about the dreams.”
“No.”
He laughed harder. “Please.”
Loving that he wanted to know, she wanted to tease him. “They were all dumb. Just one of those pain-pill induced things. Since I’m weaning myself off the pills, I’m sure the dreams will stop, so don’t worry about it.”
“Uh-huh, I’m sure.” He was face to face with her again. She could feel his breath on her lips.
When she looked up at him, he wore a grin the size of the Grand Canyon. She couldn’t help it. She actually pushed his shoulder and laughed. “Stop it.”
He took the push and laughed with her. “What?”
“Smiling like that.”
“Like what?”
Not comfortable at all with this new thing between them, she let out a breath. “Like we’re sixteen and dating or something.”
His face turned hopeful. “Are we dating?”
“No.”
He laughed and stroked a hand down her hair. “Yes, we are.”
This was so ridiculous, fighting with Sterling about dating him. Every part of her wanted to kiss him.
“Sayla.” His voice was a growl, and she felt how much he wanted her.
“Sterling …”
“You are driving me crazy, woman.”
Flashing a grin, she held up her finger. “I just have to tell you one thing before I ask you to kiss me.”
“What?” His grip tightened on her.
“I read all twenty-one texts.” She giggled, feeling foolish and loving it.
He cursed.
She laughed harder.
“Say it, woman!”
“Fine! Kiss me, Mr. Pennington. Please.”
Chapter 14
The explosion of the kiss erupted through him in tiny waves of joy. In breathlessness. Sterling knew it was ridiculous and very non actor-ish for him to feel like this. Like a teenage boy at the prom having his first kiss in front of the whole school, but he didn’t care.
Finally, he had Sayla in his arms, surrounding him with that “scent of Paris.” She called it the cheap marina scent, but nothing he’d ever come across had ever smelled so good. It lightly clung to her. When he pulled back and stared into her gorgeous green eyes—eyes the green of the jungle leaves he’d seen while filming a movie in South America, he thought of how arresting the colors were. Almost magical. The jungle itself was like a magical entity. He’d known if he walked into it without the local guides who packed machetes he’d surely be killed and eaten by gorillas. Her eyes were just as enchanting and a whole different kind of dangerous.
His lips parted somewhat from hers as he cracked a grin.
“What?”
He could feel her breath on his lips. “Jungle green. That’s the color of your eyes.”
Her smile widened. “I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.” To his amazement, she pulled his head down, and their lips were together. Again.
It was like he was surfing in Hawaii. He felt elated. He was floating. Riding the best wave. He gripped her tighter.
She pulled back, laughter coming out of her lips.
“What?” he asked, feeling happier than he could ever remember feeling.
“I am Jane. Is that what I have to say since my eyes are jungle green?”
He kept her close. “If you are Jane, then I am Tarzan. Do you want to hear my call?”
Their lips went together, and there was no more teasing. All he wanted to do was be with this woman. Which astounded him.
“Ouch.” Her hands went to her stomach.
He immediately pulled his hands away from around her waist. “I’m so sorry.” He’d completely forgotten about her incisions. “Oh my gosh.” He took a step back and looked at her stomach. He wanted to lift her t-shirt and inspect it, but knew she’d never go for that.
“It’s okay.” She put out her hand, but she looked rattled.
“Really?”
Her face paled. “I better lay down. I think I overdid it.”
“Of course.” Sterling scooped her up and started down the trail.
She smiled. “You love the whole Tarzan thing, don’t you?”
He flashed her a grin, feeling like he could conquer the world at the moment. “Only if you’re my Jane.”
Laying her head against his chest she laughed.
Once again, like déjà vu, he was carrying her. Down the path, to the cabin, up the stairs, into her bedroom, and
into her bed. “Have you taken a pain pill?”
She nodded.
He pulled off her hiking boots. “You rest. I’ll finish dinner.”
She smiled. “Oh, nice of you to show up and finish it after it’s already done.”
The banter put him at ease. He put one shoe down and went for the other shoe. All of a sudden, with her more conscious than the previous times they’d played this scene, the interaction felt intimate.
“You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?”
Sterling pulled the covers over her and tried not to look surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”
Sayla bit her lip again. “I thought you were just a shallow movie star, with no real problems.” Her face went even paler and she closed her eyes.
Worried, he rested his hand on her forehead. “Are you okay, Sayla?”
She opened her eyes. “You are one of the good guys, Sterling.”
He couldn’t stop himself, loving the admission from earlier. “Well, obviously. You wouldn’t dream about me otherwise.”
Her eyes flashed opened for a second, and the side of her lip tilted up. “I didn’t want to.”
Satisfaction. Contentment. Complete happiness wove through him like the rays of sunshine across the light of his ranch first thing in the morning. “Well, I didn’t ever believe I’d meet a woman like you when I showed up to the masquerade ball, either.”
Two hours later, Henry showed up as Sterling poured the noodles into the strainer.
Henry barely knocked before pushing the door open. He saw Sterling and frowned then pulled the screen door closed behind him. “Where’s Sayla?”
Sterling glanced toward the bedroom. “She’s sleeping.”
Henry grunted, hobbling to the couch and placing his crutches carefully on the table. He sat and propped his foot.
There was a tentative peace between the two of them.
Honestly, Sterling had to smile at the inordinate amount of grumpiness Henry displayed. Even after all the time Sterling had worked at the marina for him, learning the antiquated cash register and his weird inventory process, Henry hadn’t given an inch.
Sterling let him be, listening to the record he’d put on. Chicago. An oldie but a goodie. He enjoyed the assortment of records in her collection. Maybe he wished a bit for some Bon Jovi, but he’d take old eighties music anytime.
“So the Milgroms came in again today. Nearly sank my confounded boat again.”
An olive branch, Sterling thought. The old man was trying to engage him in conversation. “How many boys again? Five?”
Henry nodded. “The oldest one, he’s twelve. He wants me to let him work in the marina. Stock shelves, that kind of thing.”
“A little young.” Sterling cut lettuce and chipped it up for the salad.
Henry grunted. “I wouldn’t pay him officially. He wants me to mentor him with my fishing skills. He wants to be a guide for me in the summers, learn how to take groups out in the mountains.”
“Hmm.” Sterling knew how to handle grumpy old men, but Henry was more authentic than his father. His father pretended niceties in public. Henry wasn’t the pretend type. It was so refreshing to spend time with real people. “Sure.”
Henry grunted again. “Father left them a few years ago. The gal is doing it all on her own.” He shrugged. “She told me the boys look up to me.”
Sterling knew this would be an egg-shell walking kind of thing. “Well, then it sounds like you should mentor him. Everybody needs help sometimes. Hey, this could be a new beginning for those kids and for you.”
“I don’t need a new beginning.” Henry said supremely irritated.
Sterling didn’t respond.
“Hey.”
Sterling put down the knife and moved around the corner to see Sayla leaning against the doorjamb, smiling at Henry.
Her eyes connected with Sterling’s, and darn it all if his insides didn’t go gooey. Seriously, he was like a teenage girl in a Disney movie. It would make him sick if it didn’t make him so happy.
“Do you need help?” He took a step toward her.
“Nope.” Sayla pushed away from the doorjamb as if to prove it then took a step toward the bathroom. “Smells good. I’ll be right out.”
Sterling watched her go and felt grateful she was doing well. And possessive. And like he should probably stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do with Sayla. Rome was one of the innocent things on the list he wanted to do if she let him.
Henry gave him a stark look.
“What?” Sterling turned back to the kitchen and grabbed a carrot and peeler.
Henry stood, using his crutches to get around the table. He glared at Sterling. “Just watch yourself, young man.”
Sterling couldn’t stop grinning at the way Henry said it. He did feel like a teenager. “Don’t worry.”
Sayla appeared. “Worry about what?” She walked gingerly to the table.
Sterling put the tongs into the salad.
Henry grunted at her. “At the way your boyfriend and you look at each other.”
Neither of them said a word, but Sayla blushed.
Sterling brought the salad to the table then the noodles and sauce.
He and Sayla smiled at each other, and he felt like he could fly to the moon, climb a mountain, lift a building. Do anything for this woman.
As Sterling sat, Henry said, “I got eyes people. I’m not that old. Stop ogling each other!”
Sterling and Sayla both burst out laughing.
Chapter 15
Sayla and Sterling sat on the porch. The moonlight was perfect, shining down on the lake, making it look like the moon was playing tag with the stars.
Sterling scooted his chair closer to her and took her hand.
When she met his eyes, he hesitated. “Is this okay?”
Sayla didn’t understand how she knew it was okay. Actually it was more than okay. The rest of dinner had been light. Henry had been more chatty than normal, and Sayla wondered if he secretly did like Sterling. She nodded.
“We can take this at any pace you want.”
Feeling like a caged bird, she didn’t know what to do. “There’s no pace. We’re just friends.”
“Oh.” He leaned forward and kissed her neck. “Neck kissing friends okay with you?”
She giggled and tried to pull back, but he followed, pushing his lips to her neck again.
She giggled again. “Fine, we’re more than friends.”
Pulling back, he searched her face then leaned in for a kiss.
She willingly kissed back, loving the way every part of her yearned for more. But after a minute, she pushed back. “How’s your father?”
The light in his eyes seemed to dim. “It’s complicated.”
Inexplicably, she wanted to help. “Uncomplicate it.” She demanded.
Sterling sighed. “My brother keeps texting me he’s doing worse, but he’s making an appearance tonight on his campaign trail. It looks like he’ll try to make a run for president in two years.”
Sterling’s life. His family. Everything she’d learned and googled about him was so completely different than her own. “Okay.”
He turned to face her. “My brother wants me to help him campaign. Use my movie star power to call people to action.”
“Oh.” That explained a lot.
Sterling leaned back, keeping her hand.
“Are you going to do it?”
“No.” He didn’t hesitate.
“Okay.”
There was something he wasn’t telling her. She’d bet on it. An idea dawned on her. “I think you should go see him even if you don’t campaign for him.”
“Why?”
She sighed. “Because you have family.”
“Not really.”
“Even a crappy dad is still a dad.”
Sterling didn’t say anything.
“Why won’t you go?”
“I told you.”
“You should tell m
e the truth.”
“What does that mean?” He demanded.
“That it hurts too much to care.”
He was silent.
“You should still go see him, even if it hurts.”
Determinedly, he shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I can’t.”
She felt empathy for him. She squeezed his hand. “Rob would say you should forgive him.”
“Rob would say it, huh?”
She felt her cheeks burn. “Rob believed in things like forgiveness.”
“Do you believe in forgiveness?”
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
She hesitated then decided to tell him the truth. “I don’t deserve forgiveness for that night.”
He squeezed her hand. “Sayla …”
She held up her other hand. “Can we talk about something else, please?”
He shrugged, let out a breath, and pointed to a tree. “Do you see that owl? It’s outlined against the moon.”
Grinning, she tightened her grip on him. “Yep, his name is Schmidty.”
Sterling looked at her slightly amused. “Schmidty? He told you that?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. We’ve been friends since the winter I moved in and he kept me company making a racquet at night.”
Sterling nodded. “So how long ago was that?”
“I moved here in December. Right before Christmas.” She felt every part of her tighten. “I just … couldn’t face Rob’s parents.”
He was still for a few second. “Okay.” He squeezed her hand. “You can talk about him, you know. You were married. You had a life before we met.”
She shook her head. She wanted to learn more about him. “Let’s talk about why you haven’t been married.”
His physical body didn’t move, but it felt like part of his soul moved away from her. “I thought about it. I’ve had … relationships.”
She scoffed out a laugh. “I know. I’ve read the articles.”
Sterling groaned quietly. “Most of it isn’t true.”
“Oh yeah?” She kept her eyes on him. “Summer said you hit on her.”
That made him nearly choke.
“You’re blushing.” She pointed at him.
“Am not!” He countered, laughing harder.
