by Avery Flynn
She gave the older woman a kiss on her papery-thin cheek. “You are the best.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Ruby Sue said with a chuckle.
Then Aubrey was off, striding down Main Street with purpose for the first time since she came home from college. She knew exactly what she was going to do next.
Carter couldn’t stop fidgeting with the linen napkin as he sat in front of the indie film world’s favorite director Allyson Hernandez. She wore head-to-toe black including a non-ironic beret that she somehow managed to carry off. He fiddled with the corner of the cream material as their waiter took Allyson’s very specific order.
“And for you, sir?” the waiter asked, turning to Carter.
“The hot fudge sundae, please.”
The waiter’s eyebrow may have gone up a millimeter or two but otherwise he didn’t have any outward reaction. “Very well.”
“Interesting choice for brunch,” Allyson said. “Gotta sweet tooth?”
“It’s become a new favorite.” Okay, so he’d had at least one hot fudge sundae each day since he’d returned because like a sap it reminded him of Aubrey and he couldn’t help but poke that open wound that still hurt like hell. In fact, he’d spent most of the four days since he flew out of Nassau trying to distract himself from thinking about her by deep diving into the movie script. “It reminds me of...” A friend? A lover? The woman who got away because he was a dumbass? “It reminds me of someone.”
The director made a non-committal huh and took a sip of her water. “You know you weren’t my first choice for this part.”
“Probably not even the tenth,” he said, practically on autopilot after spotting a woman across the restaurant that sent his pulse into overdrive.
He leaned forward in his chair, still facing the director but watching the woman just over Allyson’s shoulder. Blonde hair. The right height. She was facing away from him and it took nearly everything he had not to bound out of his seat and rush over to her.
Allyson chuckled and gave a whatcha-gonna-do shrug. “No, but I have to admit you got me curious with the cruise challenge. It went off nearly without a hitch.”
The woman turned around and Carter sank back against the plush back of his seat, his pulse returning to normal, and the ache in his chest that had been building since he walked out of the hotel bathroom and found Aubrey gone returned in full force that made him wince.
“You know what got me though?” Allyson continued, “It was the fact that you were willing to work for it, you didn’t expect it to be handed to you. That’s not always the case in our world. So tell me about the sundae.”
The change in subject came so swiftly that he answered without thinking. “I met someone on the cruise.”
“And she didn’t know who you were?”
“She did.” Hell, by the end she probably knew him better than anyone else but Byron. “She was the one who posted that I was on board, but I didn’t know that until Nassau.”
That gut punch still had him waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with her name on his lips. God, he’d fucked it up. If he’d taken the time to think instead of just react he would have realized all of the times she’d tried to tell him.
“When did you find out?” Allyson asked.
“Not until it was too late and I was already neck deep with her.” So basically from the moment she’d shoved those pants up his shirt and told him to play along.
“Conflict, I like it.” Allyson clapped then rolled her eyes at him when he glared at her. “Oh don’t look at me like that. We’re in the business of telling stories, this is what we do. So what happened?”
He didn’t mean to tell her, but everything spilled out. He explained how they’d met while she was stealing clothes from her best friend and had clicked immediately. Then, he filled her in on the shuffle board and the backstory game and the way being around Aubrey just seemed to make sense in a way that he hadn’t felt before. The whole thing should have sounded idiotic when he put it out there in words to a stranger—one who had his career in her hands—but it didn’t. It was just the truth.
“So where is she now?” Allyson asked after the waiter delivered their food.
“She flew home.” Without him. Without saying goodbye.
And you blame her for that, Mr. Asshole?
The director shook her head in sympathy. “And you don’t know where that is.”
“I do.” One flight and a short drive in a rental car away.
Allyson stared at him for a second as if waiting for more then she shrugged and stabbed her salad with her fork. “But she was just some woman on a cruise so it doesn’t matter.” She pointed the pierced iceberg lettuce on her fork at him. “You’ll remember her fondly and that’s that.”
The conversation moved on and Carter ate his entire hot fudge sundae without tasting it at all as he moved through the brunch while in a haze saying all the right things at the right times.
“Oh, one more thing.” Allyson flipped through the script’s pages as she got up from her chair and then pushed the script across the table to him. “You might want to take a look at this. Really think about where the character is at this point and why he needs to make this move.”
He glanced down at the page. “What scene is it?”
“The grand gesture, when he fights for what and who he really wants.”
“You trying to tell me something?” Even he wasn’t dense enough to miss that.
She lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Only that you have a week before shooting starts and I suggest you spend it doing something that really matters.” She did that Hollywood thing of kissing him on the cheek instead of saying goodbye. “For research purposes of course.”
Then she winked at him and walked out of the restaurant. He stood there for a second, uncertainty making his palms sweat. Then he caught sight of the blonde in his peripheral vision again and for half a second—even though he knew better—he thought it was Aubrey. Fuck. He’d be doing that for the rest of his life if he didn’t make good on this moment. Allyson was right. It was time to go do some research. Carter was on his phone and making flight reservations before he hit the door.
Twelve
With the morning bakery rush was over, Aubrey wheeled her new office chair over to the closed secretary desk tucked away in the corner of the small dining room ready to start her new life. It may not be the one she’d planned on having, but it was the one that fit with who she was now and where she wanted to take her life. The past week since she’d gotten home hadn’t been easy, but then again change never was. She pushed her chair into place at the desk. It was white with a fold-down top that locked when she closed it, had three drawers, and two cabinets there was plenty of space for her notebooks, laptop, research, and more.
Nerves all jangly about the fact that she was really going to do this, she took out her key and unlocked the desk. Everything was precisely in its place. Pens stood in the mug decorated with the bakery’s logo. Her laptop was on the top shelf charged and waiting. Her sticky notes were in the top drawer waiting to be used. She let out a nervous breath. Yep, she was finally going to do this.
The bell on the front door gave her half a second of warning before the first of the morning gaggle of gossipers walked through the door. Mr. Lucas had been coming to the bakery every morning for years to sit with his cronies and solve the world’s problems over coffee and a cruller.
He jerked to a stop in front of her, then looked around as if to confirm he was in the right bakery. “Where’d the corner table go, Aubrey?”
“It’s in the other corner now,” she said, pointing to the table she’d dragged over to the other side of the dining area last night after she’d finished building the desk and getting it in place.
He glanced over at the table, already set with his usual Retired And Loving It mug along with Mr. Mendoza’s Old Fart mug, Mr. Corelli’s Life Begins At Seventy mug, and Mr. Jackson’s Best Grandpa mug. “Why?”
<
br /> “The plug ins are over here.” Lord knew she’d looked around every square inch of the place to see if there was any other place it could go. “I need to be able to charge my laptop so I can work on the outline for my book.”
Oh wow. Admitting it out loud had been a rush. She hadn’t told anyone yet. Of course, now that she’d told him, she wouldn’t have to.
“You’re writing a book?”
“I am.” She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, prepped for mockery.
“Good for you.” Mr. Lucas gave her a nod of encouragement. “I’ll steer the boys over here when they come in.”
A bubbly excitement filling her, she settled in at her desk while Mr. Lucas took his mug from the table and wondered over to the counter where he filled up his coffee from the carafe that was always on the corner and picked up one of the crullers already on a plate, leaving exact change behind to cover the bill. There was a benefit to having regulars who always got the usual.
For the first time since she’d left for the cruise, she opened her laptop. The screen was dirty with smudged fingerprints—why did she never notice that until she was out in public—but it only took a few seconds for it to warm up and an image of Carter to fill the once dark space. In it, he was smiling, no Iowa farmboy scruff covering his face, as he walked his dog. And with that every happy little fizzy bubble of exhilaration popped until there was nothing left but a chin-trembling sadness.
Clicking on the login button for her Insta account was the last thing she needed to be doing, but her fingers moved across the trackpad almost of their own accord. Her thirst account popped open, showing photo after photo of Carter on the set, doing interviews, and out living his life. It was a bittersweet punch to the gut because while she didn’t want to let go, she knew that she had to move forward. She’d had her chance and she’d fucked it up. The best thing she could do now was hit the delete button.
Her hand hovering over the trackpad, she took one last lingering look and that’s when she noticed the new posts. That was wrong. There shouldn’t be anything new since she’d deleted the post that had almost outed Carter on the cruise. Adrenaline made her hands shake as she clicked on the posts, enlarging the photos. They were casual shots, the kind of fun-in-the-sun photos that the ship’s official photographers had been snapping throughout the cruise. In the first pic, Carter had his face to the camera as he smiled at Aubrey who had her back to the camera. In the next, they were on the private island shopping in the souvenir huts and once again only Carter could be identified. The final picture was of her standing behind him, blocked by his body, as she reached around and taught him how to play shuffleboard. She hadn’t put these up. She didn’t even know where they’d come from.
Heart hammering against her ribs, she clicked on each post, trying to figure out who had gotten into her account and posted them. Even though she knew she’d never see Carter again, she couldn’t stand having him think she’d done it again. The bell on the bakery door jingled as panic gripped her lungs tight.
“Crullers on the counter, gentleman,” she said as she glanced up, expecting to see the rest of the coffee klatch.
But there in the middle of the bakery was Carter. He’d shaved off his scruff and had ditched the ridiculous Iowa farm boy on a cruise clothes but it was him. Aubrey couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Seeing him in person was the best worst thing that could have happened and she had no idea what to do.
“I didn’t come for a donut,” he said closing the distance between them. “I came for you.”
Carter hadn’t planned beyond finding Aubrey and apologizing. He definitely should have done that because now he was just standing here like a dumbass, inwardly cringing that he’d just said he wasn’t here for a donut.
For.
A.
Donut.
“Aubrey.” He let the door fall closed behind him and started toward her, having to shove his hands into his pockets so he didn’t reach out and pull her into his arms when she probably was ready to deck him.
“Don’t look!” Eyes wide, she slammed her laptop closed but not before he spotted the photos on it. “It’s not what you think. I have no idea who—”
“I did it.” That had been the first part of his plan. “I contacted the cruise ship people and bought every photo their photographers took on the cruise.” Unable to stop himself, he crossed to her, needing to at least be close to her even if this might be the last time he saw her. “Then, I went through and looked for any that had us in the background or the casual shots we hadn’t realized people were taking. I cropped them down so you weren’t recognizable because I didn’t want to out you as the woman I fell for without your permission.” The need to protect her from some of his more aggressive fans had been instinctual and visceral. “My brother Byron knows someone who knows someone who owed someone else a favor and that’s how I hacked your IG feed.”
“Why?”
“Because it was the only way I knew to show you that I’d lied that night.” Oh fuck it. He reached out, cupping her face with his hands. “What’s between us, it means something, it’s special.” He sucked in a shaky breath, everything was riding on this moment. “Aubrey, I’m sorry I was an asshole.”
“Language young man,” one of the old men in the corner table called out.
“Earl,” another one said. “They’re adults and you worked construction for fifty years. I’ve heard you say worse on poker nights. Relax already.”
Aubrey looked over at the four men sitting at a table in the corner, watching unabashedly as they drank their coffee. Then, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a storage closet so small there was barely enough room for the two at the same time. But he wasn’t about to let her go, not now that he was face to face with Aubrey again. To say he was enjoying the close confines would have been the understatement of the century.
“What are you doing in Salvation?” she asked, her hands fluttering across his chest as if she couldn’t help but touch him either.
“Begging for you to forgive me.” He took her hands, holding them to his chest above his heart. “I messed up. I should have listened to you when you tried to tell me you were the one behind the post.”
“I should have insisted that you listen,” she said, her gaze going hazy as she licked her full lips. “I just kept getting distracted.”
“Because I kept kissing you.” And he did it again, pressing his lips to hers and making every promise he’d do whatever it took to keep. “I promise to make up for it—for all of it.”
“How are you going to do that?”
Ideas? Oh yeah, he had lots. “Do you have anywhere with more room than this storage closet?”
She grinned up at him, reaching behind her for the closet door. “I live right above the bakery.”
“I’m starting to love small towns.” So much so that he was already making a mental note to have Byron check out farms for sale in the area. Other actors had places in Idaho or Montana, Salvation might just be even better.
“Me too.” She opened the door and they spilled out of the closet. “Mr. Lucas,” Aubrey said as they hurried hand in hand through the bakery toward the front door. “Please change the sign to Closed when y’all leave.”
“Where are you two going?” The old guy who’d called out Earl asked.
Neither of them answered, they were already all but sprinting out the door.
They made it up the stairs attached to the side of the bakery in record time. She’d never been so happy to live in a small town where no one locked their doors more in her life because that meant no fumbling for keys. Instead, she threw open the door and dragged Carter inside. She was ready to head straight for her bedroom, but he had other plans. Tugging her in close, he gave her a hot, brief kiss before swapping their positions so her back was to the closed door.
“When I walked out of the hotel bathroom and you were gone, I thought I was too late." Desire and a possessive hunger swirled in his eyes as he crowded i
nto her space, forcing her to back up until she was flat against the door.
Her breath caught. Electricity sparked in the air around them, muddling her ability to form coherent thought. "Too late for what?"
“To tell you what an idiot I was.” He lowered his lips to hers, possessive and hard.
Stunned, she couldn't move as his tongue teased her lips, sending heat flaring through her body. Need and want surged from her core. He deepened the kiss and his hands swept down her sides, coming to rest against the outside of her thighs. The cotton of her sundress felt so soft as it slid against her bare legs when he inched it higher and higher, until it bunched around her waist. The contrasting texture of his rough hands and the delicate lace of her panties against her hip teased her desire. She buried her fingers in his still short but growing out of his buzz cut hair, wanting to touch him everywhere at once. It was happening too fast and not fast enough.
Desperate for more, she pulled back from his hungry mouth. "Carter."
He squeezed her hips. "Whatever you want, tell me. I’ll make it happen."
Grabbing a handful of his button-up shirt in each fist, she looked him straight in the eye. This wasn’t because they were in a cruise bubble, it wasn’t the idea of being with her fantasy guy. This was Carter, the man she’d fallen for the moment he played along with her prank to steal Grace’s pants.
“You know what I want,” she said as she yanked his shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room.
"You want me to make you come?"
"More." The ache deep within her intensified. Her sensitive skin craved his touch, yearned for him. “I want you. Now. Tomorrow.”
He leaned forward and nipped at the base of her neck. “Aubrey, I’m yours.”
Her knees buckled and she would have sunk to the floor if his hands weren't holding her hips so firmly. His hands curved around to her ass, cupping each globe in his palms. He lifted her up to her tiptoes, his strong hands on her ass. Using a foot, he nudged her legs farther apart. The cool air brushed against her panties, taunting her heated clit.