Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys

by M. S. Parker

  “You heard me. Go.”

  “I’m assigned to escort you today,” Ridley said, the pulse of fury in his voice undeniable.

  “Dave can cover for you,” Carly said smoothly. “Since you obviously don’t want to be a part of the team today, you can stay here.”

  I caught a glimpse of the hurt on his face, and then it was gone, hidden behind his usual mask of hostility. I had a fleeting moment where I thought I might want to talk to Ryan about it, and then Carly was leading me over to the Range Rover and all I could think about was getting into that backseat and getting my arms around her.

  * * *

  We didn’t even make it to the restaurant before some of the pictures hit the internet. Carly laughed as she regaled me with some of the headlines.

  “Check it out! The PRINCEss has found herself a new boy-toy!” She wagged her eyebrows at me. “Are you my boy-toy, Bobby?”

  Blood rushed to my cheeks. “That’s not funny,” I muttered.

  “It’s just people being stupid,” she said, her voice soft.

  “I don’t care what they say about me,” I said. “I’ve been called worse.”

  She gave me a confused look.

  “I don’t like them thinking it about you.”

  She leaned up and kissed my cheek before snuggling back down against me. “You should take a look. A lot of them are really quite amusing.”

  Curious now, I tugged out my phone with my free hand and started to search.

  “Oh, please,” Carly said, her voice scathing. “Seriously? Listen to what Hollywood Steam is going with: ‘Like Mother, Like Daughter. The Scion of Music Legend Phoenix isn’t following her father’s footsteps like many had hoped. Instead, she’s taking a page from her mother’s book and playing fast and loose with any man she can get her hands on, including her sexy, but shadowy bodyguard, former inmate Bobby Cantrell.’”

  “Carly...” I looked up at her, swallowing around the shame in my throat.

  She shot me a look, her eyes spitting fire. “My mom only wishes she could get her hands on a man like you. Her last boyfriend tried to take her for everything she had, and I warned her it would happen.”

  I started to shake my head, but she reached up and caught me behind the neck, pulling me down to press a kiss to my lips, fast and hard.

  “Stop it,” she whispered, her voice fierce. “This is going to get ugly, we knew that. But they don’t matter. We do.”

  From the other side of the limo, Cameo snorted. Dave was driving, so she was in the back with us. We both looked at her.

  “Man, some of these people aren’t pulling any punches.”

  “What, someone else comparing me to my mother?” Carly asked, her voice thick with scorn.

  Cameo glanced up, wincing as her gaze slid to me for the briefest moment. “Not...exactly. This is from the 360: A Hollywood Princess has Fallen to an All-Time Low Carousing with a Con.”

  Carly wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. “You’re right. Dating a guy who served his time is the absolute worst thing a woman can do. Never mind that A-list movie star from last week who started dating the producer who’s a known child molester. And the woman has a kid, for the love of all things decent!”

  “Yeah.” Cameo sighed, toying with a pendant on her blazer. “I saw that too. The crazy chick keeps saying he wasn’t found guilty, so people should give him a chance, even if everyone knew it was just because his lawyer had gotten evidence thrown out on a technicality.”

  I stared down at the carpet. I was guilty. And not just because a jury said so. I’d done the crime I’d gone to jail for. Was there really a difference between that other guy and me?

  Carly took my hand. “It’s not the same thing, you know.”

  I looked up at her, startled. “You read minds now?”

  “Just faces. Especially yours.” She laced our fingers together and brought our hands up so she could kiss the back of mine. “I know your face almost as well as my own sometimes. And it’s not the same. You admitted to what you did, and you served your time. You didn’t do it for some selfish reason, or because you wanted to hurt someone. You’re trying to change your life. And I think you’re doing a damn fine job of it or you wouldn’t be here. It’s not the same thing.”

  “I agree.”

  I looked up at Cameo, surprised by the defense. She gave me a shrug and went back to flipping through whatever sites she’d found on her tablet.

  “I’m not even into your pretty bedroom eyes or broody good looks.” She flashed a quick look at Carly and winked. “If I was going to be into anybody, it would be the Hollywood princess, but she’s not quite my type, either.”

  Carly had been in the middle of taking a drink from her juice and she choked, mid-swallow.

  “Nice,” I said, glaring at Cameo.

  “Sorry.” She grinned, and then shrugged. “It’s the truth. Carly knows. Ryan knows. I play both sides, and I don’t lie about who’s my type and who isn’t. So know I’m not saying this because I’m attracted to you. You did your time, Bobby. I read your case. If I hadn’t known you before, I think I probably would have been predisposed to dislike you on the spot, because you sound like you were a thug. But you’re not.”

  “I was, and some part of that guy still lives in me, too.”

  “Good,” Cameo said firmly. “That dangerous part of you is what makes it possible for you to protect her and still be...” She waved a hand between us. “Like that. I’ve known too many people who tried to have a relationship like this, and it never worked. I think you two have a chance, but it’s because you still have that edge to you.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  I was still mulling over it when we arrived at the restaurant to meet Max.

  “The two of you have something you need to tell me?” Max asked as we approached his table.

  Ryan and Max had carefully staged the pictures, just as they’d carefully staged this lunch. We were meeting in one of the busier restaurants in downtown. There were movie executives, musicians and movie stars, from the A-list on down. There were people there to see and be seen.

  Carly liked coming here to see. She loved sitting around and watching people. She’d spent more than a few afternoons telling me stories that I still didn’t entirely believe. She only came here to be seen when Max or Ryan told her it was time, like today. No matter why she came here, she loved the food. She told me more than once that she didn’t waste her time going to a restaurant where the food sucked, although she said that more than a few people did. That, I didn’t get.

  She was right though. The food here was good. The booze was even better, and I desperately needed a drink as I let Carly nudge me closer to a seat.

  My head was still spinning.

  There had been cameras outside when the Range Rover came to a stop. Ryan, Ace and a temp named Mike were already there, waiting for us. Even though this was about the growing relationship between me and Carly, I still had an earbud in and I heard everyone check in. Ryan was up front, Ace in the back, and Mike stayed with the second vehicle.

  Now, as Carly and I sat down, Cameo and Dave were both near the bar less than two dozen feet away. This place was considered low-risk security-wise, but with what we were doing, we wanted to have people available, just in case. No media was allowed inside and the restaurant was damn good at maintaining that rule. We’d witnessed them hustle would-be rule breakers out more than once. Outside was a different story.

  Even though inside was safe, out of habit, I skimmed the interior even as my mind tried to come to terms with what had happened outside.

  Bobby! Bobby Cantrell! Are you and Carly Prince having an affair? What would the family of the man you killed think about this–?

  “Well?”

  Carly none too subtly jabbed me with her elbow and I looked up as a couple was seated at the next table over. The maître d walked stiffly away without looking at either party. No media was allowed...except when it was pre-arranged and ti
ghtly controlled.

  The gorgeous redhead at the table next to ours looked nothing like the sharp-featured brunette who ran the biggest entertainment blog online, but those cheekbones were pretty much unmistakable. They should be. She’d paid enough for them. She casually placed her purse on the table, pointed it toward us, and then focused on her companion.

  Max lifted his eyebrow the faintest bit and I took that to mean it was time.

  “I’m still waiting for an explanation.”

  He pushed his phone across the table toward me.

  The image on display showed me with my back up against the car, one hand low on Carly’s hip, while the other gripped her back. She had her hands fisted on my chest and we looked pretty much like nothing else mattered.

  So, that was what we looked like together.

  “Ah...” I looked over at Carly. I knew Max already knew what was happening, so I felt sort of stupid telling him what he already knew.

  She pressed her lips together, and I realized I wasn’t going to get any help from her. I looked back at Max and he raised an eyebrow.

  I gave him a sheepish smile. “Oops?”

  A smile jerked at his lips, but he got it under control quickly. “Oops?” he repeated. “That’s the best you can do? Just how long have you two been involved?”

  Carly pursed her lips. “Do we count the six months we were keeping it cool because Ryan and Jake asked us to?”

  Max made a show of dragging his hands down his face. “Six months?”

  “We haven’t been involved for six months,” I said, shrugging. “Not really.”

  He perked up a little.

  “Well. We had a thing,” Carly said. She smiled a little sadly as some truth came into the story. “Then, after Jake fell, he asked Bobby to wait a while. He figured it wasn’t the best time for me to get involved with anybody. So Bobby waited. Now?”

  She looked over at me, and the moment our eyes met, it was clear to me that I’d never stood a chance.

  She possessed me, body, mind and soul.

  * * *

  “Did you mean it?”

  It had been two weeks to the day since I said those three words to Carly, and this was the first time she’d brought it up. I hadn’t said anything about it, but I had a good reason. Sometimes, I was chickenshit.

  But I couldn’t avoid it now.

  I didn’t even have to ask what she meant.

  Carly lay with her head on my chest, staring up at me. Her skin was still slick with sweat and so was mine. My heart hadn’t even come close to returning to normal, and I was happy to say neither had hers. I could feel it beating in a mad rhythm as she continued to watch me with calm eyes.

  Did she feel calm?

  I sure as hell didn’t.

  “If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t have said it.” It would’ve been easier to tell her that if I’d been staring up at the ceiling when I said it, but I wasn’t a complete coward.

  “When?”

  I didn’t pretend to not understand that either, but that was an easier one to answer. A stupid kind of smile started to spread across my face.

  “I think it might’ve started when you hit me in the head with that damn purse of yours and yelled at me. You almost got run over by a car, but were you worried about that? No. You were too busy being put out because I had the nerve to get in your way.”

  She sniffed, but then a grin spread out across her face. “I couldn’t believe you had the nerve to yell at me and call me stupid. Nobody’s ever yelled at me.”

  “You probably thought I was an idiot,” I said.

  “No.” Her voice softened. “I liked it. People never take the time to get to know me for me. They just decide on who they think I am, who they want me to be, based on what they think they know about me. You didn’t do that.”

  I slid my hands down her back and caught her hips, tugging her close. “Who everyone else says you are doesn’t matter to me. It never has.”

  “I know.” She leaned up and kissed me lightly. “I might have loved you for that alone, Bobby. But then you had to go and be so wonderful. I had no choice but to fall in love with you, you know.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ever since that ‘oops’ bit of mine, the media had been on my ass like fleas on a dog. The stories ranged from laughable to lousy, from stupid to sickening, and everything in between. There had been days when it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed and face the people I worked with, the woman I love, hell, strangers on the street.

  Then there was the whole surreal aspect of things, like I’d fallen through some weird sci-fi thing and ended up in an alternate reality or something.

  Like the one day I’d gone to a local gym. Carly had a great one, but she didn’t have a rock wall and that was one thing I’d discovered I loved – rock climbing. I’d just been coming out of the gym, and these two girls, probably barely out of high school, had come up to me. The blonde had been all giggly and red-faced as she asked if I’d give her and her friend an autograph. I’d been asked before, something I knew I’d never get used to.

  But then they’d asked me, What’s it like to kill somebody? What’s it like...being in prison?

  I’d stopped, halfway through the scrawl of my name. If I’d been smart, I would have just finished up, ignored the questions and gone on. If I’d noticed the paps hanging around, I would have. But it hadn’t been until after that I’d noticed them at all.

  “You serious?” I’d asked, staring at the girl who asked.

  She looked like she’d been trying to make herself out as some sort of street tough, a hoop through her right nostril, the start of what might be a tattoo sleeve on her right arm.

  To me, she looked like a little girl trying on her bigger, meaner sister’s clothes. A child playing dress-up.

  “Yeah.” She fluttered her lashes, black and thick with too much mascara. “What’s it like...Bobby?”

  “It hurts,” I said bluntly, too freaked out to give her anything but the truth. “It tears out a piece that makes you human, and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to fix yourself, you can never get that piece back. No matter what you do, you can’t fix the hole you tore in another family when you ended somebody’s life. You’re broken. They’re broken. That’s it.”

  She blinked then, caught off-guard, and looked at her friend. “But...”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You wanted to know what it’s like and I told you. No buts. Prison? Hell, that’s a bucket of laughs. If you like having to guard your food and bolt it down so nobody steals it from you before you can eat it. Ever had somebody try to shank you while you were eating?”

  I half-turned, dragging up my shirt and displaying the long, thin jagged scar that tore up my right side. Carly had gotten the story out of me one night when she’d been tracing all of my scars. It was still the most impressive.

  “It barely missed my kidney. Spent some time in the infirmary over that one, and that was just one of my easier stays there. Want to hear about the other times?”

  “Um.” She blinked again, her eyes watering.

  I should’ve felt bad, and some part of me had, but her questions had been insane. Wanting my autograph because I was dating someone famous was one thing. Wanting it because of what I’d done...no way in hell would I ever be one of those assholes who wore their crime or time like a badge of honor.

  Her friend had reached up and wrapped an arm around the blonde’s narrow shoulders.

  “Don’t you want to know?” I’d asked softly, not quite done yet. “The first time I went to the infirmary was after I’d been on the inside less than four days. I’m a decent looking guy, and I was still pretty young. You know what that means?”

  She had, the quiet one. I’d seen it in her eyes. Her eyes had been a darker shade of blue than Carly’s, but they’d had that same tough look to them. It hadn’t been her idea to come up and talk to me, I’d realized. She’d just decided to come with the blonde.

 
I’d looked back at the blonde then. “A couple of the bigger guys, the cons who’d been in there a while, they figured I’d make a nice little bitch for them.”

  She flinched.

  “Does that really sound like some sort of bad boy fantasy?”

  “Okay.” Her friend had hugged her tighter. “She gets the point.”

  We’d stared at each other for a few more seconds. Then I’d nodded. “Good.”

  As they’d walked off, I’d grabbed the gym bag I’d dropped and looked up. That had been when I’d seen the vultures hovering. Son of a bitch. The media and all the paparazzi were something I still couldn’t get used to. Some days they didn’t pay any attention to me at all, but other days...

  Sadly, that had been one of those days where my own personal flock of nuisance photographers had decided to zero in on me.

  After dealing with the hassle on a personal level for a couple of months now, I’d developed a new appreciation for Carly’s patience with them. Now, as I sat with the rest of the main security detail, trying to pin down a schedule of sorts for the tour, I found myself with a deeper appreciation of the trouble Ryan went through planning everything.

  While everyone else was listing places they wanted to go in various cities, I was trying to see what new shit the media had cooked. I skimmed a caption, and then moved on before it hit me. When it did, I went back to it. I read the caption again and then stared at the thumbnail of Carly and me.

  Hollywood’s Most Romantic Couples!

  “They’ve got to be kidding me.”

  We’d been together for nearly four months and the media hadn’t gotten tired of us yet. The VMAs had long since come and gone, as had Christmas. The best Christmas I’d had since my mother had died.

  Now, Carly and I were looking at our first Valentine’s Day together as a couple and it seemed we were being subjected to several of these inane lists. If I had my way about it, I’d never look at another of these things again, but while they annoyed the hell out of me, I also couldn’t seem to stop reading them.

  Hollywood’s version of a train wreck, I supposed.