“Dream big, Allegra.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. The sentiment, the use of my full name—all of it—cut to my core.
“What did I say?”
I finally looked at him, my eyes swimming with tears.
“OK,” he said, my own helplessness mirrored back at me. “You’re doing that whole Bambi thing again.”
“Sorry.” I sniffed and blinked away some tears. “Papa used to say that to me.”
“Right. My bad. I should have checked the script.”
I giggled, thankful for his neverending good humor. Sadly, my laughter didn’t last long, the memory of my Papa’s words still with me. “He didn’t want me to stay.”
Understanding softened those blue eyes. “When he was sick?”
“Yes. He told me to go to New York anyway and do my course.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No. And I don’t regret it.”
We drove in silence for a while. I still had no idea where we were going. As far as I could tell we were getting further and further away from the city but, strangely, I didn’t care. I trusted him. The bumps on the tarmac became a rhythmic lullaby and I found myself drifting off.
“I wasn’t there.”
I startled at his words, catching myself before I fell asleep. “Where?”
“When my mom died.”
I was wide awake now. “I’m sorry.”
“I wanted to. Be there—but I’d just been cast in my first big movie role. She told me not to come home.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again, because I didn’t know how else to respond to the pain in his voice.
“My oldest brother doesn’t speak to me anymore.”
“What?”
“He told me I put work over family. He was right.”
I twisted in my seat and put a hand on his arm without thinking. I felt a jolt run through me and he must have felt it too because he gripped the steering wheel tighter. I didn’t remove my hand.
“I’d say your brother wasn’t dealing with his grief very well.”
I felt sorry for the steering wheel. That sort of death grip had to hurt.
“How would you know that?” he asked, his eyes on the road.
“What sort of person makes their brother feel guilty at a time like that? You were all grieving. He took it out on you,” I said simply.
I watched as a frown spread to his forehead, pushing hard on his eyebrows. I resisted the urge to press a finger to his brow and smooth it away.
“Maybe. My brother has some pretty strong opinions.”
I dropped my hand. “Sounds like he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions so he took it out on you like a passive aggressive jerk.”
The frown faded and I thought I saw a smile touch his lips. “Something tells me you deal with grief differently in your family.”
“Damn right. I know it’s a cliché but there’s a lot of sobbing and yelling and eventually eating. Lots and lots of eating. We put it all on the table. Literally.”
The smile turned genuine. “I would have liked to grow up in your family.”
“You didn’t fit in, did you?” I asked, realization dawning on me.
“How do you mean?”
“To your family. You’re an actor, but I’m guessing your brothers were typical football players. You were the odd one out.”
The frown returned. “You’re right about one thing. I’m a good actor.”
He said it like it was a bad thing.
We took a sharp left turn. I peered out the window. We were on a narrow laneway with heavy foliage on either side of us. I spotted some lights through the darkness but couldn’t make out any buildings or houses because the trees were so thick.
We came to the end of the laneway and were faced with an imposing black fence so tall it made some of the palms appear small. Behind that was a nondescript, gray double-garage door.
Jake hit a button on a remote and the gates started to open.
I sneaked a look at him. Was this his house? I was too scared to ask.
He parked in the garage, the gates closing silently behind us. The parking space was relatively sparse—except for one thing.
“Oh yeah. That’s my other car,” he said and shot me a devastating grin.
I stared open-mouthed at the bright red Ferrari.
I heard the rear door open. “I’ll just do a quick check and leave you to it,” Chris informed us.
I didn’t bother replying because I was still transfixed by the gorgeous, gleaming Ferrari.
Jake chuckled and turned off the engine. “Come on. Let’s get Stella and go for that walk.”
*
I followed him into the house, feeling numb.
Jacob Swan had taken me home.
To walk his dog.
I couldn’t help myself and started laughing at the absurdity of the situation. I clamped a hand over my mouth, pretending I was coughing.
“You OK?” He stopped in front of me and I bumped straight into his back.
“Oof.”
“Hey.” He turned, his arms coming up to rest on my shoulders.
I knew I was probably doing my best Bambi impersonation to date, but I couldn’t help it. I only had to lean forward an inch and our bodies would be touching. As it was, the light pressure of his fingers on my shoulders was exquisitely painful.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
Where had all the oxygen gone? I was feeling lightheaded and I was sure I was close to hyperventilating, which wasn’t the look I was going for.
His eyes dropped from my face to watch the rise and fall of my chest. The dress suddenly felt tight around my cleavage and I forced myself to take a step back, his hands slipping from my shoulders as I did so.
His grin was half-hearted. “Was it the Ferrari?”
“What?” My throat felt hoarse.
“Too movie-star for you? In my defense, I bought it five years ago when I was really full of myself. I’ve mellowed since then.”
No, it’s you, I thought and forced myself to smile. “The Ferrari’s nice. Did you seriously invite me home to take your dog for a walk?”
He blinked, my honesty taking him by surprise again. He shrugged, but the movement looked defensive. “You sounded like you needed to unwind.”
“We could have walked at Santa Monica.”
I hadn’t meant it to come out a challenge. We both stood perfectly still and stared at each other.
Ally, what are you doing? I ignored the voice in my head. Even it didn’t have the power to shut me up.
“I thought you might like it here,” he said eventually.
“Where is here, by the way?”
“Malibu.”
Home to numerous famous movie stars, Jake included.
“Ally, if this is making you uncomfortable I can take you home,” he said.
What was making me uncomfortable was I couldn’t figure out this situation. He’d kissed me, so he obviously liked me. And then I’d run away. Not one of my finest moments. I heard Lena’s voice in my head: You need to make the next move.
I couldn’t do it, I realized. For all my smart-talking, big-mouthed extroversion, I was too scared. But I didn’t want to go home, either.
“Where’s Stella?” I asked.
He stared at me a second longer then turned away and whistled. I heard what sounded like a frantic tap dance coming toward us. Stella barreled into view, joy lighting up her doggy features, tongue hanging out and tail wagging madly.
“There you are, girl.” Jake crouched down to greet her, letting the dog lick his face.
“Ew,” I muttered. As much as liked dogs, I’d never owned one and the idea of that wet, furious tongue lapping at my face wasn’t enticing.
Stella heard me and let out a deep bark.
“It’s alright, girl. This is my friend, Ally.”
I think it was the word ‘friend’ that did it. Stella barked again and I heard her paws workin
g double time on the tiled floor as her golden brown eyes locked onto me.
“Ah, Jake? My dress.”
“Got it.” Jake stood up, but Stella was already scrambling around him, her intent clear.
I cringed. “Oh sh—”
A sharp whistle cut through my oath and Stella halted immediately, her claws making a metallic screech as they slid across the floor. She stopped at my feet, tongue still hanging out. She made no move to lick me.
“Sit, Stella.”
Stella sat obediently.
“Good girl.” Jake walked toward us. “Remember your manners. Now, no jumping on Ally’s pretty dress. OK, shake.”
Stella raised a paw off the floor and my fear of having my dress ruined lost out to adoration. I reached out and we shook hands politely.
She dropped her paw again and remained sitting.
“She’s beautiful, Jake. Did you train her?”
“I might have had some help, but yeah, she’s a good dog. Stella, would you like to go for a walk?”
Stella’s long tail pounded against the floor, but otherwise she didn’t move.
“Go get ready,” Jake ordered.
It was like he’d released a rubber band. Stella sprang to life and bounded down the hallway, disappearing out of view.
“She’s gone to get her lead and wait by the back door,” he explained.
“So that’s why you’re used to women doing what you want,” I teased.
“What can I say? They love me.” He pointed down the hall. “I’m just going to get out of this suit. Oh crap. I completely forgot about your dress. Can you walk on the beach like that?”
While I hadn’t envisaged walks along the beach when I’d conceived the dress, it was in no danger of getting wet because it finished just above my knees. “I can take my heels off.”
Jake eyed my bare arms. “It’s winter. You’ll get cold. Can I lend you a jacket?”
“Sure.”
“OK, come on.”
I followed him down the hall, past what looked to be a spare bedroom to our left, and then we stopped in front of another bedroom on our right. The bed was half made and there were shoes and clothes tossed haphazardly around the room. For some reason the sight of the mess relaxed me.
“Bathroom’s that one if you need to use it,” he said, pointing to a door on our right further ahead. “Or you can just wait in the living area opposite. I won’t be a sec.”
I nodded and continued down the hall. I ignored the bathroom and arrived in an open-plan space. The living area was sparsely furnished. A couple of sleek black leather sofas and a coffee table sat opposite an impressive flat screen TV. Beyond that, a modern kitchen all in white overlooked the space.
There was no questioning the expense of the room—everything looked to be of the highest quality—but something about it felt empty. It wasn’t even that large. As far as movie-star standards went, the room had nothing on Lena’s expansive living areas. Undoubtedly, it was the view that recommended the place.
Floor-to-ceiling glass doors stretched the entire length of the space, opening onto a balcony area. Beyond that, the ocean appeared to slumber beneath the moonlight, the mass of water lit by its cool glow.
“The view’s amazing, isn’t it? It’s why I bought the place. Here.”
Jake came up behind me, now wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. He’d looked delicious in his suit, but this current outfit wasn’t bad either. He held up a denim jacket and then helped me to shrug it on.
“It’s a bit big but it will keep you warm. Ready?”
I nodded, pulling the jacket around me. It smelled of him, giving me the strangest sensation of an embrace.
I shook myself and followed him down a winding set of stairs I hadn’t noticed in the back corner of the room. Downstairs, another open-plan space a similar size to upstairs was set up as a rec room. A cabinet of trophies rested against the back wall, and I noticed with some interest it contained evidence of both sporting as well as acting accolades.
Stella waited by the sliding door, lead in mouth. Jake bent down and clipped it to her collar, then unlocked the door. He turned to me.
“You know how you asked me if I liked living in Hollywood?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t live in Hollywood. Malibu is home for me. Come on.”
I followed him out into the night.
Chapter 19
It turned out Chris’s definition of ‘leaving us to it’ involved scoping out the beach for photographers and any other suspicious people. During the day, the strip of sandy Californian coastline was a renowned vantage point for snapping the stars, but at midnight on the night of the Golden Globes, Malibu wasn’t of any interest to them. Satisfied we were alone, Chris retreated to the house to observe the beach from the upstairs balcony. I knew it was his job to protect Jake, but the constant surveillance almost made it feel like we were being stalked. Or maybe I was overreacting?
Jake seemed able to ignore Chris’s presence, so that’s what I tried to do, too.
We spent the first fifteen minutes walking and throwing a ball to Stella, not talking much. Jake had a cool ball that flashed when you bounced or threw it so Stella could follow it in the dark. I wondered if he came out here a lot at night, when he was less likely to be spotted.
Strangely, the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. Stella continued to show off her good manners and never once tried to jump up on me.
The quiet gave me space to think, and it finally occurred to me where I had seen Chris before. “Chris was at Runyon wasn’t he?” I asked eventually, breaking the silence.
Jake nodded. “Yeah, but he keeps it low-key in those situations.”
“Why?”
Jake grimaced. “Having a bodyguard kind of draws attention.”
“He could pretend to be a friend,” I pointed out.
“True. But he likes some distance. He’s less likely to miss things if he’s not right on top of me.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment, struck by the strangeness of it all. Then I cleared my throat. “So what’s next for you?” I asked, eager not to linger on Jake’s less-than-normal life.
Jake didn’t answer straight away and I wondered if he knew what I’d been thinking.
We watched Stella drop the ball at our feet for what seemed like the hundredth time. He picked it up and threw it until I could barely make it out in the distance despite the flashing colors.
“I start filming an action movie in six weeks, so I’ll be training daily to prepare for that,” he said, finally answering me.
“Ouch,” I said, not entirely joking. While I was enjoying my newfound ability to exercise, daily training sounded painful.
“It’s not that bad. I enjoy it.”
“Do you miss football?”
Jake’s eyes turned thoughtful in the dim light. “I don’t miss the game, but I didn’t mind training.”
“Do any of your brothers still play?”
“The middle two both coach their kids’ teams now.” He paused. “Not sure about my oldest brother,” he added, referring to the brother he no longer spoke to.
“What about your dad?” I asked, realizing that he’d never once mentioned him despite talking about his mother.
“Dad’s the eternal armchair enthusiast. I’m told he goes to all of my nephews’ games.”
“Has he come to LA?”
Jake shook his head. “We didn’t keep in touch much after I moved away. Less so since Mom’s death.”
I silently rebuked myself for steering the conversation in an awkward direction. I wiggled my bare toes in the cold sand. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged and stopped walking as Stella dropped the ball at his feet again. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He picked up the ball, tossing it high in the air this time. We both laughed as Stella did a little happy dance as she waited for it to plummet back to earth. Once again I was left wondering about his acting ability or whether the subject of his father genuinely di
dn’t bother him.
“So where’s filming on the new movie?” I asked, glad for the distraction so I could change the topic.
“Here mostly, but we’ll be spending a couple of weeks in New York.”
“Oh, God. You know what this means.” I stopped walking and turned to him. “You’ll be calorie-counting with all the exercise you’ll be doing.”
“I still haven’t tried that lasagna. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”
I winced. “Maybe save that until after filming’s over.”
His eyebrows shot up. “It’s that bad?”
“No,” I said slowly, and I couldn't hide a triumphant smile. “It’s that good.”
He laughed. “I believe you.”
If someone had told me three months ago that I’d be walking along the beach in California, tossing a ball to a very well-mannered dog—who just happened to be owned by one of Hollywood’s hottest male actors—I wouldn’t have believed them. What’s more, if they’d told me that he was a genuinely nice guy who I’d enjoy spending time with, and who appreciated my cooking, my sense of humor and potentially my curves, I would have scoffed in their face.
“What?” he asked.
I stared hard at my feet and wondered absently if I should be worried that they were starting to go numb in the cold sand. “Nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
I continued to stare at my feet. “Am I seriously that transparent? Maybe I need to get Botox. Freeze some of my facial features so I’m not so obvious.”
“You’re not obvious.”
“No?” I finally looked up.
“OK, maybe some. That’s why I like you.” He stepped toward me, doing that whole invading-my-personal-space-in-a-good-way thing again. “I like you, Ally. In case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I like you, too,” I whispered. I hated my honesty sometimes.
“It scares the shit out of you, doesn’t it?”
I pointed to my forehead. “I’m thinking the Botox needs to go here, here and here.”
His grin lit up his whole face, the laughter lines making my knees go weak. “You don’t need work. Besides, it’s all in the eyes, Bambi.”
“Alright, so maybe a facelift? You know, that permanently surprised look people get after they’ve had their face done? Then you wouldn’t be able to tell what I’m thinking because I’d look stunned all the time.”
Heartthrob (Hollywood Hearts, #1) Page 14
