by Unknown
“Thanks for snagging a table in the back,” I whispered, taking the chair across from her.
She looked me up and down, seeming to take in my dark sunglasses, big hat, super-loose summer dress, and light sweater. She lifted a brow. “I’m thrilled that you ventured out in the daylight hours, really thrilled, but I’m having a hard time accepting that outfit.”
I glanced down at my outfit. “Huh?”
“Please tell me you forgot to do laundry, or accidentally dyed your hair orange and broke out in hives or something, because that is the only sane excuse for it.” Claire’s voice was, and had always been, a little louder than anyone else’s in a room—even in this noisy diner.
I winced. So much for being inconspicuous. “I’m trying not to be seen, okay?”
“Then you shouldn’t have worn a tent. Or those glasses. They make you look like a fly. But more to the point, what caused you to leave the confines of your house? I’m seriously shocked. I thought we’d have to stage some sort of intervention to get you out of there.”
“Shh!” I pushed my sunglasses down my nose, and reached for the menu. “Don’t make such a big deal. I just wanted a little sister bonding time.”
Okay, I did want to hang out with Claire, but that response had only been half-true. I was really hoping for a glimpse of Luke. He’d said he loved the pancakes here and I thought maybe he’d show up today to get a plate of them. Crossing fingers, anyway.
“Riiight.” Claire’s voice was deadpan, making it obvious she didn’t believe my “sister bonding” excuse. “Well, whatever the reason, at least you’re out. So tell me what’s new. Have you reconsidered the tell-all book on your louse of an ex? Please say yes and make my day.”
The waiter interrupted me from answering by arriving to take our orders and apologizing for the wait. We both ordered coffee and I chose the pancakes. Yum! Claire ordered fried eggs, with toast and bacon. We handed our menus to the waiter, who strode off toward the kitchen, and then I turned back to my sister.
“So? Greta von Strand?” she prodded.
My brows came together. “I’m not going to write a tell-all book about Rex, Claire.”
“Why not? You don’t have to expose your actual private life, just put anything in there and you could get even in a big way. Like saying he refused to make love unless he dressed in a clown suit and you had to honk his big red nose. You could say he’s got a fetish for—”
“Claire, no. Just no.”
“You’re no fun,” she pouted, sitting back in her seat. “If it were me, I’d be scribbling away like crazy. I’d tell everyone he liked his bass player more than me. Now that would create a hilarious scandal.”
“He did like his bass player more than he liked me, but not in that way.” I laughed at the pouty look my sister was giving me, but stood firm. “I won’t do it.”
“For the zillionth time, why not?”
“No good can come out of publishing something like that. Don’t forget that I’d also have people poking around in my life, too. I get enough of that already.”
“You should go right for the jugular.” She aimed a fork at her neck in demonstration, making me laugh even more. “Oh, and you could even tell everyone Rex was—”
“Enough,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “Deep down, I think the good guy I fell in love with in high school is still in there somewhere. He’s just buried beneath the Rex Rockwell image.” I sighed. “Way deep down.”
“Wait . . .” Her eyes bulged. “Don’t tell me you still have feelings for him.”
“Not like that.” I rolled my eyes at the look she was giving me. “I’m not in love with him anymore, but a part of me will always love him, if that makes sense. Truthfully, I hadn’t been in love with him for a long time before he . . . you know.”
“Got happy with the groupie in your hammock?”
“Ex hammock,” I pointed out. The tabloids made up stories that I’d burned down the hammock, which had been a total lie. All I’d really done was have the housekeeper toss it in the garbage. Less dramatic but served its purpose. “I hope someday Rex remembers who he really is, and why he went into the music business in the first place. Maybe he could even reconcile with the band members he dropped so fast when the record label came knocking.”
“He’d have to get over himself first. I don’t see that happening because . . .”
That’s when the front door of the diner squeaked open. My gaze shot to the entrance just as Luke Montgomery walked in. My breath caught in my throat. I stopped listening to Claire and stared. His sandy-blond hair was styled back in a classic way but less slicked than when on the show. He wore dark jeans and a plain tee shirt, sneakers, and a relaxed expression on his handsome face. He looked so down-to-earth, like a Ralph Lauren denim jeans ad.
Claire cleared her throat. “You might want to push those sunglasses all of the way back on if you’re going to keep staring like that.”
“Shh!” I said, desperately, while pushing my sunglasses back up my nose.
“Why hush?” She practically bellowed.
Probably due to Claire’s loud voice, Luke turned his head in our direction, his gaze connecting with mine. He looked so much more at ease in those clothes and off the set, and my heart did a crazy little flip in my chest. His mouth slowly curved upward, then he waved.
“That’s your cue to wave back,” Claire stated.
“I know,” I muttered, giving him a small wave. Suddenly, I felt beyond embarrassed. Luke had mentioned this place to me yesterday. What if he thought I was stalking him? Which, yeah, was sort of true. I’d come here to see him but I hadn’t considered that he might see me, too. I studied my hands, wishing I could slide beneath the table and hide.
Claire gave me a what-are-you-doing look but I ignored it, and her. I couldn’t really ignore Luke, though, because out of the corner of my eye I saw him coming over.
“Good morning, Charlie.” His warm voice held a hint of surprise. “Nice to see you off set.”
“Good morning.” I lifted my gaze, pulling my sunglasses away from my eyes, then fiddling with them awkwardly on the table. Why was I feeling shy? I never felt shy around men.
“Hi, I’m Claire, Charlie’s sister. Why don’t you join us?” she asked, in a playful tone.
I really did contemplate kicking her under the table. My cheeks heated and I could only hope they weren’t bright pink. I avoided his gaze. What if he thought I’d set Claire up to say that?
“I’m Luke,” he responded, and I felt his gaze on me. Then he shifted slightly as if sensing how uncomfortable I felt. “Uh, thanks for the invitation. But . . . how about a rain check, Charlie?”
I nodded. “A rain check sounds good.”
“Nice to meet you, Luke.” Claire wiggled her fingers in his direction as he walked away. Then she pasted a giant smile on her face. “Was that Luke Montgomery? From Just One Day?”
“Just One Love,” I corrected.
“Whatever.” She waved a hand. “Spill it. What’s going on?”
I fiddled with my silverware. “I rented my house to the soap opera for a month.”
Claire’s elated expression was priceless. She lifted an arm and waved down a server. “We really need our coffee,” she said. “I can’t wait any longer. Lots of coffee, please.”
The waitress looked annoyed, but nodded. “I’ll tell your server.”
Claire scratched her temple. “You’ve lived like a monk in solitude for over a year since your divorce. How and why did you decide to let a soap opera take over your house?”
“Because I need the money to keep my house,” I whispered, slipping my sunglasses back on. Unable to help myself, my gaze darted to where the host was seating Luke.
“Wait, did you know Luke Montgomery was going to be here today? Is that the reason you ventured out into the real world?”
“Um . . .” I fidgeted with my sunglasses.
“You have a crush on him!”
“Shh!” I looked aro
und wildly to see if her loud voice had caught anyone’s attention.
At that moment, a horde of reporters surged through the door, cameras flashing, capturing everyone’s attention. My heart hammered and I braced myself for the attack, wondering how I could escape. Instead of coming in my direction, however, the reporters flooded toward Luke.
Luke straightened in his seat, his expression welcoming the paparazzi with a subtle smile that dissipated the unassuming man I’d said hi to a minute ago, transforming him into a star.
When he’d walked up to the table and introduced himself to Claire as just “Luke” I’d had the crazy idea he might be the real deal and we might be able to date like normal single people. Now I knew that was never going to happen.
It seemed obvious by the way Luke was charming the cameras—who the Over the Moon employees were slowly ushering out—that Luke loved being a star. And I’d already had my fill of men who loved being famous and I’d learned a hard lesson from it.
With his sudden shift in behavior I wondered if the tabloids were right that he was dating Adele Andrews in real life.
Chapter Four
Later that day, I walked through the big double doors of the Blue Moon Bay Library, which was spacious but in serious need of a remodel. The wallpaper on the walls was peeling off in many places, the floors looked like they had survived a bomb going off, and the library held the same musty book-filled scent I remembered growing up.
I’d spent many days here reading when I was growing up, the fanciful stories coming to life through my imagination. Reading is what made me try out for my first play in high school. I couldn’t wait to bring characters to life through my own emotions. Sadly, I hadn’t been back to the library since before college. But this seemed like the perfect place to spend a few hours in relative peace and quiet while I avoided filming—aka: Luke—at my house this afternoon.
Even though I adored the convenience of my e-reader, especially when browsing for a new book to read at midnight, nothing could replace the feel of a paperback in my hands. I had a lifelong love affair with romance novels, preferably historical because who doesn’t love a pirate or a sexy duke? Or a sexy duke who had spent his life as a pirate?
Either would rank high on my fictional boyfriend scale.
After browsing through the ancient book racks for half an hour, I chose a couple of novels that looked promising, but it was still too early to go home so I headed for the magazine racks. The Blue Moon Bay library stored all of the major publications and I was reaching for a travel magazine when I spotted a well-known gossip rag.
I wasn’t big on reading tabloids—especially when I was in them as the vengeful ex—but my eyes locked on the cover photo of Luke Montgomery. His arm was around Adele Andrews and he wore a cheeky grin on his face, while she gazed up at him adoringly.
Before I could stop myself, I snatched the magazine, and stared at the caption next to their picture: Is Their Love Washed Out?
I rolled my eyes. What a cheesy line! Yet, I had to read more. . . .
I flipped through the pages, thumbing past other scandalous stories about celebrities before I arrived at the article on Luke Montgomery and Adele Andrews. Even though I knew most, or all, of this story had to be made up, my eyes soaked up each line and I was deep into their supposedly tumultuous love affair when I sensed someone standing nearby.
I glanced up, my gaze meeting Luke’s sexy blue-gray eyes. My body immediately turned liquid. What was he doing here in the library? He looked just as surprised to see me, too.
His brows rose. “Charlie?”
“Luke . . .” My face heated as I remembered the article I’d just been reading and was still open in my hands. Yikes! I slammed the magazine closed. But when I tried to tuck the pages under my arm, the magazine fell to the floor in a rattling rustle.
Luke bent down and picked the magazine up, then he held it out toward me, the sexy photo of him with Adele and their cheesy caption face-up. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks became a raging inferno as I stuffed the magazine on the shelf behind other back issues. I managed a tight smile, feeling about two inches tall since he’d caught me reading that tabloid trash about him. Did he think I read that garbage on a regular basis? Or did he suspect I had a crush on him? Neither option boded well.
“Personally, I don’t believe everything I read.” His gaze moved to the shelf that held the still-visible edge of the magazine I’d put back, then his gaze returned to mine. He also tapped his finger against the magazine clutched in his hand. “You never know what’s true or not.”
I got a good look at the magazine he’d tapped and gasped. There on the cover was a picture of Rex and me, with a lightning bolt slashed between our faces. The paparazzi had snapped that photo of us kissing on a yacht in the South of France at least three years ago. The caption read: From breakup to hookup! Rex Rockwell and his wife still making beautiful music together!
“Who comes up with those headlines?” I blurted, pressing my hand to my chest. Then something crossed my mind and my stomach fluttered. Had Luke picked up that magazine because of the photo of me on the cover? Or was that just coincidental? I glanced at the caption again, and groaned. “Fact check, people. I’m the ex, not the wife.”
“Does this mean you two aren’t still making beautiful music together?” The corner of his mouth lifted at his joke, but his eyes held a serious glint as he waited for my answer.
“It’s hard to make music with someone you haven’t even spoken to in almost a year,” I said, surprised at the truth that had slipped out of my mouth so easily. I never talked about my private life, especially not to someone I barely knew. But maybe he had picked up the magazine because I was on it, and I didn’t want him to think Rex and I were “hooking up.” But that still left the question of whether or not Luke was dating Adele. Not that I could ask him to clarify. “Aren’t you supposed to be filming right now?” I asked.
“I don’t have any scenes this afternoon, so I’m on my own time. I’ve never spent time in Blue Moon Bay, so I wanted to learn a bit about the area. See what there is to do and so forth.”
“You could have just searched online,” I pointed out.
He chuckled. “Yeah, but I enjoy the old-fashioned feel of learning in a library. That’s more fun to me. Plus, if I’d stuck to the Internet then I wouldn’t have run into you.”
My belly did a flip. “Well, I grew up in Blue Moon Bay so maybe I can help if you have questions about the town.”
He slid the magazine back onto the rack, winking at me as he did so. “Lucky you to grow up in such a charming town by the bay. I grew up in Florida in a little town a bit inland but it was an easy drive to the water.”
“Really? Florida? I’ve been to Miami a few times, and Rex used to play the Spring Break concerts up and down the coasts there.” I bit my lip, wanting to kick myself for bringing up Rex.
Luke just smiled, though. “Blue Moon Bay reminds me a little of the place I grew up. It’s welcoming with that homey feeling. I know that sounds weird.”
“No, I totally get it. In fact . . .” I paused at the strange sounds coming from behind the book stacks. I lifted a brow.
Luke grinned and then he moved a few books to one side, just enough so we could look behind the racks where a couple was kissing passionately. I recognized the female’s sleek dark bob.
“Wendy?” I gasped, wanting to bust out laughing. Wendy and I had been best friends in high school. She and her brother had just inherited the Inn at Blue Moon Bay where I knew Luke and some of the other cast and crew were staying during filming. “Is that you? And Max?”
Wendy’s hand flew to her mouth as she peered through the little opening between the books. Then she smiled broadly and waved. “Hi, Charlie! Max just returned from a business trip and we were, uh, yeah.”
Wendy’s boyfriend, Max, chuckled. “We’re looking for books on gardening.”
I blinked. “Gardening?”
“For the
inn,” Wendy explained, recovering quickly from having been caught in a romantic embrace. “I’m thinking of planting some flowers to make the entry brighter. You know, curb appeal.” She walked around the book stacks holding Max’s hand, her gaze flicking to Luke and then back to me. “Who’s your friend?”
“Sorry, my manners went right out the window. Luke, this is my friend Wendy and her boyfriend, Max. Wendy owns the Inn at Blue Moon Bay, which is practically a historical landmark around here. Max owns the restaurant next door to the inn.”
“Nice to meet you.” Luke shook Wendy’s hand first, then he shook Max’s hand. “I’m staying at the inn while I’m in town for work. Love the plaque with the legend.”
“Thanks.” Wendy exchanged a secret smile with Max, her expression turning soft. “We love the legend, too. Not sure if you’ve tried the restaurant next door yet, but that’s Max’s latest project and it’s up and running too, which is really exciting.”
“I’ve been wanting to check that restaurant out. I’ve mostly been eating at the Over the Moon because of —”
“The pancakes?” Max finished, and then both men chuckled.
“I’m seriously considering marrying the owner, but everyone thinks I’m joking when I say so,” Luke said, smiling.
“You would have to stand in line behind a hundred other men dying to have those delicious little discs served to them every day of their lives,” Max joked.
“Delicious little discs?” I asked, unable to stop the laughter that started at those words.
“Wendy’s description.” Max shrugged. “I’m on pancake rations, trying to stick to the healthier options we have at the restaurant. But sometimes I have to hit the diner.”
Luke nodded. “I would really like to check out your restaurant. How about it, Charlie? Maybe I can cash in that rain check and take you to dinner Friday night?”
My gazed shot to Wendy for help. But the elated expression on her face told me I’d get none. I wanted to ask Luke to clarify what this dinner would mean. . . A friendly meal so I can fill him in on the area? Or a date? And if he meant it as a date then what about Adele? Also, an image of what happened at the diner when the reporters had besieged him appeared in my brain.
