by Melody Grace
“Not anymore,” Griffin said, meeting her gaze for a long, sizzling beat.
The elevator doors slid open with a ding, and Lila glanced away, to the empty hotel hallway. Fifteenth floor. She’d clearly hit the buttons at random. “Is there a back way out of here?” she asked. “I don’t really want to deal with the scrum out front again.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Griffin said, pressing the button for the very top floor. He’d been to this hotel before, for some design function years ago. They swooped upwards, and when the doors opened again, it was to the roof level, revealing a calm, moonlit garden.
Lila lit up. “It’s so pretty,” she exclaimed, stepping out.
Griffin followed. “A friend of mine did the design,” he explained. There were manicured shrubs and intricately trimmed topiaries, with tiny lights set in the pathways. He noticed Lila shivering, and immediately stripped off his jacket and set it around her shoulders. She flashed him a grateful smile and strolled deeper into the garden.
“I wonder what this landscape wanted,” she said, teasing, and Griffin chuckled.
“Some designers love the blank canvas of an urban garden,” he said. “But I don’t know, I like working in the earth. Some plants can thrive out here, but there’s something about real soil, and rain, and sunshine . . . Artificial fertilizer just doesn’t feel the same.”
“Old school, huh?”
“Maybe,” Griffin replied with a bashful shrug. He’d never thought of himself as a traditional guy, but maybe when it came to his work, he was.
Lila approached the edge of the roof. The lights of Boston were spread below them, glittering in the dark. She leaned against the railing and took a deep breath.
Griffin watched, wondering what was on her mind.
Was she thinking about Justin, and the life they almost shared together? He didn’t seem worth the regret, but Griffin didn’t know how deep the scars ran. It had taken him long enough to move on from the mess of his own marriage, and they’d been stumbling along in failure for long enough before he pulled the plug.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?” Lila asked suddenly. She turned to face him. “Start over someplace else, with a new name, different life . . . nobody knowing who you are.”
“You mean aside from moving into the Playboy mansion?” Griffin cracked.
Lila gave him a look, and he grinned. “I don’t know that I would,” he replied slowly. He leaned against the railings beside her, and watched the lights turn red below down on the freeway. “Did I need a fresh start after my divorce? Sure. But Sweetbriar Cove was far enough for me.” He paused, frowning. “You really feel that way? Like you want to be somebody else?”
Lila exhaled. “No. Not really. I just wish I could wipe the slate clean, that’s all. It feels like what happened with Justin is this big weight around my neck that I have to keep dragging around—while everyone points and stares and takes photographs.”
“They’ll get over it,” Griffin said, comforting. “It won’t be like this forever.”
“Really?” Lila arched an eyebrow. “It’s been over a year, and I’m still getting the same old questions. You’d think there would be something more exciting to talk about. Maybe Justin’s right,” she said lightly. “Maybe this is my payback for wanting the spotlight. There’s something almost karmic, if you think about it. I spent all those years working to be famous, and now, I guess I have to live with that choice.”
“Bullshit.” Griffin snorted. Lila looked surprised. “Come on,” he continued, smiling. “You didn’t moonlight as a serial killer or screw the guy’s brother. You’re an actress. People paid you to stand in front of a camera and tell a story. No karmic debt necessary. You weren’t a diva, were you, telling all your assistants to go get you decaf mocha whip lattes?”
Lila smiled. “No. I always said I wouldn’t be like that.”
“Then there you go.” He shrugged. “Not your monkeys, not your circus.”
Lila blinked. “What? I’ve never heard that expression before.”
“It’s good for when people try to drag you into their chaos,” Griffin replied, thinking of his brother. “Let Justin be a bitter piece of work. You don’t have to let him bring you down.”
Lila took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she said, breaking into a smile.
“Say that again, slowly,” Griffin teased, and she laughed.
“Treasure the moment, mister.”
Lila smiled at him, and just like that, the rest of the night wiped clean from his mind. Griffin blinked. He’d only drunk a glass of whiskey all night. He couldn’t be drunk, but looking at Lila, her eyes shining softly in the moonlight, Griffin could have sworn the whole world tilted off its axis.
God, she was beautiful.
“Griffin?” Lila murmured softly.
He tried to remember how to speak.
Lila pressed her lips together and met his gaze, and Griffin lost his mind. The rational part of it, anyway, because right then, the only thing that mattered was those few feet of empty space between them, electric with possibility.
And pure, blazing desire.
Griffin reached for her. Lila’s skin was soft to the touch as he slid his hands over her bare shoulders. They were suspended there a moment, on the edge of something, then Lila swayed towards him, making a sound that was part breath, part moan, and one hundred percent irresistible.
Griffin couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled her closer and captured her mouth in a hot, blazing kiss.
Everything stopped.
She tasted like temptation, sinful and sweet. Griffin tried to take his time, but the feel of her curves pressed against him was kerosene on a raging fire. There was no holding back, not now. He claimed her, devoured her, hands sliding over her body and tangling in her silken hair as her lips fells open and their tongues moved in a sensual dance.
Damn, he wanted more.
Everything.
He wanted to pull her back into the elevator, take her to a room downstairs, and make her forget she’d ever been touched by another man. He wanted to show her what pleasure really felt like, explore every inch of her body with his hands, and mouth, and tongue until they were both mindless and groaning.
But Griffin forced himself to pull back. He was a gentleman, dammit, and something told him not to take this too far. Not tonight.
He cleared his throat, and adjusted his jacket from where it had slipped down around her shoulders. “OK?” he asked gruffly, smoothing it down. They were both breathing heavily now, Lila’s hair mussed, and her skin flushed.
She nodded. “I . . . Yes. Thank you,” she managed, looking flustered.
Griffin couldn’t help but smile. “My pleasure,” he replied, equally formal, and Lila finally smiled.
“Shall we?” she asked, offering her arm.
Griffin took it, relishing the feel of her hand folded gently in his. “Let’s get you home.”
11
Lila needed a new bed.
She woke up alone on that plank-hard mattress and decided that maybe Summer was right about setting the scene and inviting the right energy into her life. This was no place for relaxing . . . or sleeping . . . or anything else she might want to do up here.
With Griffin.
Maybe.
Almost definitely.
But the furniture delivery place had other plans. “What do you mean, you can’t get one here for a week?” Lila exclaimed on the phone. After that kiss on the rooftop last night, she would be lucky if she could make it to Tuesday without melting down in a pool of pure desire.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the teen-sounding clerk replied. “But we’re back-ordered, and waiting on a new shipment—”
“Fine,” Lila cut him off, disappointed. “Whenever you can schedule it, put me down.”
Hopefully by then, she would still be a functioning human and not a walking tangle of hormones. Because even just the memory of Griffin’s lips brushing hers was
enough to drive her to distraction. The hard press of his body, and the soft urgency of his mouth . . .
Lila paused. Maybe they didn’t need a bed. After all, there were plenty of other surfaces in the cottage—
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
Lila snapped out of her lusty haze, flushing. She was standing in the middle of Paige’s boutique, staring into nothing like a space cadet. “Umm, just browsing!” she blurted, even thought she’d barely looked at the display.
Paige smiled. “Let me know if you want to try something. I’ll just be in the back, finishing a fitting.”
“Thanks!” Lila exclaimed, turning to busily examine the nearest mannequin.
She needed to get a grip. She was racing way ahead of herself. After all, Griffin had taken her home last night like a perfect gentleman. He hadn’t booked them a room at the hotel or seduced her in the backseat of his Jeep. Walking to her front door, he’d only pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek before driving away. Those weren’t the actions of a man burning up inside, the way she was.
No, Lila couldn’t be sure just what he was thinking. But if it turned out his mind was on the same sexy path as hers? She wanted to be ready. Hence the shopping trip today. Paige designed the most beautiful lingerie around, and if Lila was going to be entertaining anyone in her bedroom, that mattress wasn’t the only thing that needed a makeover.
She browsed the racks of delicate lace and satins until an older woman emerged from the back atelier—with loaded bags. Then Lila ventured back down the narrow hallway. Behind a velvet curtain, Paige’s studio was bright and sun-drenched, with bolts of fabric stacked in an antique bookshelf, and a cacophony of ribbons and trim exploding over her workbench.
“See anything you like?” Paige asked, tidying up the fitting area.
“Everything.” Lila smiled. “This stuff is so beautiful, you could sell it in boutiques all over the world.”
“But then I’d never have time to wear any of it,” Paige replied with a wink. “No, I only have so many hours in the day, and everything here is handmade. Besides, I like actually meeting my clients and getting a feel for their style.” She straightened up and gave Lila an assessing look. “What are you after today? Dressing for comfort . . . or company?”
Lila blushed. “I don’t know yet,” she lied, self-conscious.
Paige grinned. “Well, I do have these Victorian-style bloomers which are very comfortable . . .”
Lila laughed. “OK, maybe something a little more alluring than that,” she admitted. “But nothing too, you know, Sports Illustrated.”
“No red lace garters?” Paige said, with a teasing grin.
“Um, nope.” Lila smiled. “I’ve done my share of fashion shoots trussed up in designer lingerie, and there is nothing sexy about having a dental floss thong chafing where dental floss should never chafe.”
“Well, rest assured, everything here is anti-chafe.” Paige went to her workbench and began holding up samples of fabric and trim. “What are you, a 34B?”
Lila blinked. She was wearing a shapeless cozy sweater with jeans. “How did you know?”
“It’s a gift.” Paige gathered some samples and then pointed Lila to the dressing room area. “Try these to start.”
Lila pulled the curtain shut and tugged off her sweater, trying the first matching set. Delicate white silk, embroidered with tiny red poppies . . . The detail work was exquisite, and staring at her reflection, Lila had to admire Paige’s clever design. It skimmed and lifted, all in the right places.
Plus, no chafing.
Her cellphone buzzed with a new call, and Lila saw Griffin’s name on her screen. She gulped and grabbed her sweater back on in a rush as she answered.
“Hi!” she yelped, her head stuck in an armhole. What was she even doing? He couldn’t see her. But somehow standing there almost naked with him on the other end of the line felt way too exposed.
“Hey,” Griffin answered easily, because of course, he wasn’t the one trying to stay upright in a confined space. “How’s your day going?”
“Oh, fine.” Lila tried to sound breezy. She struggled to get her head free and elbowed a lamp to the floor with a clatter.
“Everything OK back there?” Paige called.
“Fine!” Lila blurted. “I’m just, um, shopping,” she said to Griffin.
“Sounds like fun. I just wanted to let you know, I won’t be working at the cottage today,” he continued. “I have another job I’m finishing up in town.”
“Oh. OK.”
Lila’s heart sank. Did this mean he didn’t want to see her right now? Was he trying to cool things off after The Kiss?
“But, if you’re free tonight . . .” Griffin continued, and Lila’s heart rose again. “We could go grab some dinner.”
Grab? Lila knew she should probably be playing it cool and casual, but after her first fumbled humiliation, she needed to know exactly where Griffin’s head was at.
“You mean, a date?” she asked, sounding as breezy as possible.
He chuckled. “Yes. I mean a date.”
She silently cheered. “Sure, I mean, I don’t have any plans,” she replied. “Dinner sounds nice.”
“OK, good. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“See you then.” Lila calmly hung up, and then bounced on the spot in delight. So, she was acting like a sixteen-year-old; it had been long enough since she’d felt this kind of giddy anticipation about a man. She was going to relish it while she could.
Now, about this lingerie . . . Lila examined her reflection again, and then stuck her head through the curtain. “Do you have anything in purple?”
* * *
Lila spent the rest of the day trying to ignore her looming date with Griffin. After all, it was just a casual dinner. So, she ran errands, folded laundry, and made a delicious tomato soup for the freezer . . .
Until 3 p.m. rolled around, and she finally ran out of chores to distract herself. She tossed aside the thriller book she was pretending to read and sighed. Who was she kidding? Lila felt like it was the night before a big audition, with all her nerves twisted tightly, impossible to think of anything else. So, she may as well do the same thing now as she did then: pamper herself and try to enjoy the anticipation.
She ran a bubble bath and made some tea, and then slathered herself in a delicious-scented face mask. Sinking back into the foam, she finally relaxed—
Just as her phone buzzed with a text.
It was from her publicist, Mindy: a gossip piece about the gala last night.
Lila and Justin buried the hatchet last night, all for a good cause. The exes were seen laughing it up at the benefit for the Boston Children’s Hospital, and guests say sparks were flying. Could a reunion be on the cards?
Lila almost snorted. There was a photo, too: snapped from across the room, it showed Justin smiling about something—all cheekbones and teeth—while Lila’s head was tipped back in laughter. To the casual observer, they looked the very best of friends.
Maybe she did deserve an Oscar, after all.
Mindy texted again. Why didn’t you tell me J was there? Great work. Call me to discuss next steps!
Lila turned the phone face down and slid deeper into the bubbles. What was it that Griffin had said? Not her circus, not her monkeys. If Mindy and the Hollywood press wanted to work themselves up into a lather over an innocent, out-of-context photo, that was their business. She didn’t have to play along. After all, she had more important things to think about . . . like what to wear on her big date tonight.
Toweling off, Lila stood in the bedroom and surveyed her closet. Well, what passed for one these days. For the first time, she found herself missing the luxurious walk-in back in her old place—packed full of designer outfits. She’d only brought a couple of suitcases with her to the Cape, and her wardrobe these days was more “jeans and a sweater” than “drop-dead stunning.” But this was Sweetbriar Cove, she reminded herself. Even if she had a hundred dresse
s at her fingertips, she wasn’t about to go hit the town square wearing a sexy little mini-dress and five-inch heels.
She’d freeze her ass off, for one thing.
Lila smiled and picked out her favorite jeans with a lacy, delicate top. Paired with some ankle boots and her cozy red jacket, she should be set. And with Paige’s beautiful lingerie set underneath . . . Well, Lila would be ready for anything.
By the time 7 p.m. rolled around, her nerves had almost been outweighed by excitement to spend some time with Griffin—without torrential downpours or passive-aggressive exes. At the very least, they wouldn’t have to fight their way through a hoard of ravenous journalists tonight. That had to be an improvement, right?
The doorbell sounded. She tried not to hurry to answer. “Hi,” Lila greeted Griffin with a breathless smile.
“Hey,” he smiled back, and all her promises to play it cool melted away, because wow. Somehow, the man managed to look even better in jeans and a casual button-down than he did in a tux. And that was really saying something. “Ready to go?”
“Just let me grab my purse.” Lila ducked back into the kitchen and found her bag on the table. The cat was sitting in his new favorite spot by the radiator, giving her a hopeful smile, so she paused to pour out a bowl of kibble for his dinner.
After all, who knew if she’d make it home tonight?
“All set,” she said, returning to the doorway. “Let’s go.”
Griffin walked her out to the Jeep, and even went around to open the door for her. “No compost,” she remarked, noticing the clean interior. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled. “I even hosed it down.”
“I feel so special.” Lila smiled, relaxing. “Mind if I put on the radio?”
“Be my guest.”
She turned on the car stereo, and a blast of heavy metal chords came blaring out. She caught Griffin smirking and laughed out loud. “You did that on purpose!”
“I figured I’d see if it still spoke to me.”
“And?”
“And, now I just feel old,” Griffin said ruefully. “It’s all so loud and angry.”
