9781631056314TattooedHeartsJolieNC

by Mika Jolie

  If anything, she should have expected it. He fit right in and could easily pass for someone in the entertainment industry. Yet, his composure indicated this wasn’t his world. Not that he gave any hint of uneasiness. Nope. Not Forrest.

  He just…well…stood out.

  Everything about him screamed confidence and in total control.

  “Ms. Peters,” the attractive clerk said with a smile. Her gaze flicked over to Forrest for a beat too long, then back to Claire. “Your assistant,” she stared, stopped to clear her throat. “Your assistant asked us to hold some communications here for you,” she continued and handed a thick yellow envelope to Claire.

  “Thanks, Julie.”

  “Welcome home. We missed you here,” she said, visibly struggling not to stare at Forrest.

  She smiled, but inside her heart faltered. The Wetherly House had never been home, but it was her reality. Forrest had officially entered her world. He got a peek of who she’d become during the performance at Vapor, but to be here fully immersed in her element meant he was about to get a full view. Not that she had anything to hide, but insecurities crept. What if Claire Peters the Star was too much to be with?

  Last night had been a glimpse of her lifestyle, not even close to the high-speed pace of her daily grind. She stopped midstride and scraped a hand through her hair, suddenly nervous. Forrest didn’t hesitate. There was an ease in everything he did. His hand stroked up and down the curves of her back, an attempt to ease away her worries.

  “You’re nervous,” he said, lowering his head so that his lips brushed her ear.

  Funny, she shouldn’t be. This was her territory. She should feel at ease…at home. But even the salty air and sand here failed to come close to life on the Vineyard. As for her condo here, it was best classified as a place of refuge after the stress of the day. But her heart—that always longed to be with Forrest. Now he was by her side, taking in everything…well, yeah, nervous didn’t come close to what she was feeling.

  She took a deep breath, and forced herself to move forward. “Um, no…” Never mind she visibly jumped at the touch.

  “Yeah, you are,” he continued. “No need to be. Come on,” he nudged her forward. “I want to know all you’ve become. I love what I’ve seen so far.”

  With his words, she felt the heavy weight of tension lift. As soon as she closed the door of her two-bedroom, he put his bag down and dropped his jacket on top of the leather bag. Then he stepped further into the living room and into her world, causing a fleet of nerves to settle in her belly once again.

  His gaze swept over the open kitchen sea pearl counters, the custom oak cabinetry with polished chrome. He paused and inspected the vase of fresh yellow flowers James sent over to welcome her back.

  “From James.”

  He nodded. “Your manager?”

  “Yes. He plays Charles’ role here for me.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he said nothing. He took a few steps further inside the living room, lingering over the decorative details fabricated from natural materials carefully chosen by Claire that helped contributed to the understated elegance.

  “Your place is beautiful,” Forrest noted.

  “Thanks. I like it here.” That wasn’t a lie. It might not be home, but a true home was a feeling, not a place.

  His eyes stayed on her for a bit. “It suits you.”

  She pursed her lips, the tone of his voice revealed nothing, but the words failed to come across as a compliment. Her stomach shifted uneasily, anxiety smashed around her inside. She watched Forrest as he walked to the strut bookcase and scanned her pictures. A few highlighted her career, events she attended, there was one with her mother with Charles, another with Keely and the others, and one of her at the farm surrounded with the four of guys. He picked up a picture. A photo of the two of them together at her eighteenth birthday party, her arms linked behind his neck, her face tilted up to his, a smile on their lips. Jason had mailed her the frame picture after she left with a note that simply read: I hope you don’t ever forget what you left behind.

  “Claire,” he said turning to look at her. “How did your other boyfriends feel seeing this picture here? I know there were at least two after me.”

  The thought never crossed her mind. It had been natural to keep the picture on display, a reminder of what she once had and lost. “I never gave it much consideration. Selfish of me.”

  Nonetheless, it felt good to know he somewhat kept track of her life. The two serious boyfriends he referred to had been nice, kind, and wanted to give her the world. But they failed to emerge and take over the spot Forrest had in her heart. The picture probably sealed her fate with them from the word go.

  “Any regrets?”

  “No.” The only regret she had was the time they’d lost.

  After he placed the picture back, he closed the space between them. “I’m sorry. I was so caught up in my hurt that I avoided all you’ve become. I’m proud and happy for you.”

  She smiled. “I grew up.”

  “I’ve noticed.” His eyes were fixed on her. “I’ve always noticed even when I acted like I didn’t,” he said, and his voice was deep, with the slightest rasp to it, like velvet that had a rough edge.

  That edge sent a charge through her. Or maybe it was his words. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

  He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her to him. “How much time do we have before the gala?”

  Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed against him, loving how strong and hard he felt against her. “I have to get my hair and makeup done. You’re coming with?”

  “Not to the makeup part, but I have every intention of coming with you,” he said with a sexy glint in his eyes.

  She laughed, the residual tension of the day easing away. “Then that gives us a couple of hours. How much time do you need?”

  “A lifetime,” he said, and brushed his lips against hers.

  Claire’s heart kicked. She told the stupid muscle to calm down. It’s just an expression, not a proposal.

  “But,” he continued, his lips now trailing down her neck. “For now a couple of hours will do.”

  “Bedroom is…whoa!” She laughed as he swept her off her feet and into his arms again. “I might get used to this.”

  He kissed her again. “Not might. You should. Bedroom.”

  She gestured with one arm then quickly held on to him again and told the angst in her stomach to get the hell out of town. They were going to work out and find their happily ever after. They had to.

  * * * *

  Hours later, after spending most of the day in bed with Claire, Forrest’s steady gaze stayed on her as she moved about her bedroom. To the naked eye, she appeared so prim and proper in a lacy, knee-length navy dress. Only the sensuously cut silhouettes gave gawkers like him a hint of skin to admire, adding an understated sexiness to the outfit. Her hair, pinned in a French twist, adding a flair of elegance.

  She looked sexy and classy in that I’m-a-Superstar, you can look but can’t touch kind of way.

  But he’d touched and he wanted to keep touching, again, and again, until they were exhausted. She slipped into a pair of black pumps with a strap across the top of her feet. He examined the heels, they had to be at least four inches. He never understood why women put themselves through hours in these barely-there stilts, but even he had to admit they made her kick-ass legs look so fucking amazing it made him ache for physical contact once more. When she lowered to fasten the strap, he caught her hand. Her brown eyes smiled at him.

  She looked like pure sex.

  “Let me do that,” he said, and dropped to his knees in front of her. But first his hands skimmed over her hips down her toned legs. As he secured her shoes, she raked her hand through his hair, forcing him to look at her.

  “This is pretty sexy,” she said in a feathery voice, her eyes now intense and serious.

  His heart galloped. Need coursed through his veins. All he wanted was
to bury his face between her legs again. But restraint was the most powerful aphrodisiac of all. Slowly his hands glided down her legs and back up again, beneath the skirt of her dress. He squeezed her ass, then rose to his feet.

  Forrest blew out a long stream of air. He was officially addicted. Hell, when it came to Claire, he’d been a junkie since puberty hit him. Putting some distance between them, he swore under his breath.

  “You said something?”

  “No.” His voice came out hoarse, making him sound like a backed-up teenager.

  She peered at him from over her shoulder, a slight frown furrowed her forehead.

  “What?” he asked, buttoning his shirt.

  She smiled. “You’re nervous.”

  “I am?” If only she knew where his mind actually was, she’d stay right across the room or risked getting bent over, or maybe lay her on the bed and spread her open. As much as he loved her ass, having her fully exposed for his viewing was by far his favorite. They didn’t have much time. The limo was due to arrive soon. Fifteen minutes tops was all he needed and voila…home sweet home.

  She nodded. “About tonight.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not nervous.”

  “Do you want to take two separate cars?”

  He knotted his tie then slipped on his jacket. “No. Why are you asking?” Shit. What the hell was he missing here? “Would you rather we take separate cars?”

  “No. I just thought maybe…you might not want all the tabloids stuff like last night at Vapor. I know that’s not who you are,” she said, referring to the frenzy the two of them photographed together had apparently caused on social media. Apparently they’d become the latest media darlings.

  Neither had checked, but their friends had texted pictures. She was right; he wasn’t into any of that. But that was part of who she was. He was familiar enough with the paparazzi from Jason and Adam to know how to handle it. Most of all, that was part of the Claire Peters package.

  “I don’t mind the media.”

  “They will dig into your past.” There was a careful note in her voice. “About Luc.”

  He didn’t like the idea, but something told him Claire or not, there was no avoiding that hump in his life. That came with being a Montgomery. “I think you might rush the process, but it’s unavoidable.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  He nodded.

  She bit her lower lip and didn’t look convinced one bit. “So then what’s bothering you?”

  “I was thinking of how we could have sex again,” he admitted.

  She arched a brow, her gorgeous lips formed into an oh. Then a smile touched her mouth. “So you’re okay with us being officially photographed tonight?”

  The thought never crossed his mind. “I haven’t thought about it. What’s the big deal? Someone took a picture of us at the funeral, at Woods Hole, and last night.”

  He obviously was clueless when it came to the rules of dating someone in the public eye because she gave him that Oh-you-idiot smile, and then closed the distance in the room between them in those four-inch heels. He had no choice but to curl his hand around her waist, pull her to him and let her feel the evidence of his nervousness.

  “Oh.” She blinked. “And I thought you were getting cold feet.”

  “I’m warm all over.”

  She cleared her throat. “So you’re good with all of this.”

  As evidence of how good he was with whatever she was talking about, he pressed her a little closer. A little whimper escaped the back of her throat. It pleased him. But he released his grip. “I have a feeling you’re trying to tell me something. So explain.”

  “Well, a picture of you and me together knowing there are going to be tabloids outside in Hollywood terms, it means we’re official.”

  That worked for him. “What’s wrong with official?”

  “It means we’re dating.”

  “Okay.”

  “So you’re okay with the world knowing you’re dating me?”

  He pulled her into him again. “While it may crush my playboy status, I think you’re worth it and so much more. As a matter of fact, I’ll show you how much tonight.”

  “Promise?” she purred, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

  He stepped back just enough to look into her eyes. “I promise.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go. By the way, you look beautiful.”

  She nuzzled against him. “Thanks, Doc. You look pretty hot in a suit.”

  He swore. “The word hot or hottie should be expunged from the English language.”

  She laughed and pinched his ass. “I love you and I’m happy.”

  “Me too.” For the first time in a long time, he meant it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “My heart waits.”

  Claire Yasō Peters

  Her heart was flying and the world seemed to stop. The night had been grand, especially with Forrest by her side. After the award ceremony, they attended the after party–danced and flirted the whole time. A part of her hadn’t wanted this dream to end. On the other hand, that meant they’d be on the first flight to Boston tomorrow then catch the ferry back to the island. One more week with Forrest without any interruptions, then time to dance to the rhythm of reality. Claire plopped on the sofa and stared at Forrest as he made his way to her open kitchen. He looked amazing in a suit and tie.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look in a suit?” she asked, her voice doing that breathless thing whenever she was around him.

  He shook his head as he poured a glass of water and brought it over to her. “Men aren't beautiful.”

  She laughed. “Thanks. You don’t like hottie, so beautiful it is. And so thoughtful and considerate.”

  “You make me sound like you have me by the balls.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I can ever have you by the balls, Forrest Montgomery Desvareaux.” She took a sip of the water. See, he brought her water, which was thoughtful. A thoughtful man was sexy. “But I know where I’d like to have your balls.”

  Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the notification and smiled. “I won the bid.”

  “I owe you a date.” He took her feet in his hands and just when Claire thought nothing could top the night, he started massaging her tired tendons.

  Heaven.

  Thoughtful. Considerate. Intelligent. A body to die for. A sexy combination of brains and brawn. The glasses were an added oomph. While he could wear contacts or afford LASIK surgery, he chose to wear the spectacles as a badge of honor, with no care whether he was perceived as nerdy. Others’ opinions never meant much to him. “God, that feels good.” She hadn’t realized how bad her muscles ached until he started applying the gentle pressure.

  “I know what I’m doing,” he said, that sexy gravel in his voice sending a charge through her. “I have trained hands.”

  “Ah, yes, being a doctor and all.”

  He laughed. His eyes crinkled in the corners, and the laugh lines on either side of his mouth deepened, stealing her breath. She loved the sound of his voice, fully animated and relaxed. This was the Forrest she’d known and loved all of her life. She closed her eyes and settled into the wonderful way Forrest was loosening her muscles when her phone went off.

  An unsettling feeling began welling inside her. It was well past midnight. Unless it was a dire situation, her friends never called her this late, which left the only other person who had free range to contact her at any time. Calls at this time from him always meant drop everything and let’s go.

  Picking up the phone, she took James’ call. “Hi,” she greeted her manager in a cheerful voice. Positive energy attracted positive things. Maybe he wanted to tease her again about how she was trending on Twitter. Hope coiled tight inside her.

  “You can’t return to Martha’s Vineyard tomorrow.”

  Well, talk about straight to the point. Her breath hitched. Before answering the phone, she knew the shrieking sound had reality check written
all over it. But her stomach still clenched. “James–”

  At the mention of her manager’s name, Forrest met her gaze. Something flickered in his, it made her gut clench.

  “What’s so urgent?” she asked into the phone.

  James exhaled on the other end. A sign this wasn’t fun for him either. “Production company for Tattooed Hearts is on my ass now that you’re back. It’s almost the end of March, they want their song. Did you write it?”

  “Yes,” she answered in a choked voice.

  “Great. Now you have to record it and Claire, don’t forget you were on a promotional tour. You have obligations.”

  Legal, binding obligations that could get her into a prodigious mess. She knew that and had every intention of fulfilling them. It just that…her heart needed to find its home. She peeked at Forrest still rubbing the sole of her feet. He met her gaze and held. His features were blank, but his eyes as always spoke to her. There was something in his–like he knew this would happen. She wouldn’t go back with him. Her stomach had dropped to her feet.

  “When does my schedule clear?” In the past, she always worked on auto-pilot. Never cared. She never had to.

  “End of June.”

  Claire rubbed her eyes, breaking the contact with Forrest. “That’s over three months.” Without Forrest.

  “I’m sorry,” James offered gently. “I caught the highlights on TV. You looked happy tonight.”

  She had been. A sigh of surrender left her mouth. “I need tomorrow’s itinerary. Ava can send everything in the morning.”

  “Should already be in your inbox.”

  She shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and pulled herself straighter, inadvertently dragging her legs from Forrest’s grasp. He looked on, but made no effort to hold her. Claire’s shoulders stiffened with tension. “Thanks,” she said into the phone.

  “Claire, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying…”

  “It’s okay. Thanks, James,” she said and disconnected the call.