by LuAnn McLane
“Okay, Chloe, but only if you promise to eat all your vegetables at dinner.”
“I will! I will!” Chloe danced from one foot to the other but then paused. “Wait, we’re not having kale, are we?”
“No.” The mother laughed. “Not tonight.”
“Good! Kale is gross.” The relief on the child’s face was priceless, and she tugged on her mother’s hand. “I want a smiley-face cookie.”
“Whoa, okay then!” The pretty young mother touched her index finger to the tip of her daughter’s nose. “Let’s go see Thelma!”
Arabella smiled but then felt a hot wave of longing that was hard to shake. After a moment, she licked a crumb from her bottom lip and decided it was time to gather her courage and make the drive to Grady’s house. Oliver had assured her that they would be there rehearsing during the day and that she should head over as soon as she arrived. But once inside the cool cocoon of the car, she thought that perhaps she’d unload her things at the beach house and freshen up first. She chided herself for wanting to look her best. “I’m here to do a job,” she said firmly. “Nothing more, nothing less.” She scrolled back through the text messages from Oliver and found the address of the beach house. After alerting Siri of the change, she started the car and pulled out onto Main Street.
Fifteen minutes later, Arabella drew into what turned out to be a long driveway leading to a secluded beach house full of old Florida charm. “Wow, even prettier than the pictures.” Arabella killed the engine and fished in her big purse for the key that Oliver had mailed to her. She stepped out of the car and walked toward the front steps, which led to a wraparound veranda. Sunshine glinted off a gray tin roof, and the stark white paint of the house’s exterior offset the abundance of green ferns and red geraniums swinging from hanging pots. Deep-red wicker rocking chairs and matching end tables looked cheerful and welcoming.
Arabella unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Oh, I could get used to this.” Coastal décor in crisp blue and white gave the interior a cozy feeling, but the cathedral ceilings and open floor plan made the living room feel light and airy. A hint of vanilla hung in the air, probably from the abundance of fat candles gracing the wide coffee table.
Arabella walked across gleaming hardwood floors and peeked into an adorable kitchen. Pale blue walls complemented the white cabinets and a big center island that looked like it was made for gathering around. Fingers of sunshine reached through the bay window to the breakfast nook tucked into the far corner of the room.
Like a kid on Christmas morning, Arabella opened the doors of each room as excitedly as though she were opening a wrapped present, and was delighted with each discovery. “Oh gosh.” The master bedroom made Arabella sigh. A big wicker paddle fan moved in lazy circles above a distressed white four-poster bed piled with crisp linen pillows edged with blue and red. She sure hoped the comforter felt as soft and as luxurious as it appeared.
“Sweet,” she squeaked when she entered the big bathroom and spotted the old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub. She could imagine a hot soak in mounds of bubbles after a long day of dancing. The large shower looked just as inviting, with marble tile and a seat on which she could sit to shave her legs. She’d always adored beach cottages and almost felt as if this house had been built just for her.
Arabella needed to lug her things inside and freshen up, but she paused to open the French doors that led to a back deck that ran from the bedroom all the way to the living room. She stepped outside, inhaling the briny tang of the sea. The deep-red wicker furniture matched the rocking chairs on the front veranda, and the pillowed lounge chair would be perfect for sipping a cold drink while reading a book. Arabella loved novels, and it was about time that she made time to read.
“What a view,” she whispered. Mounds of sugar-white sand dunes were topped with lumps of green vegetation and sea oats swaying in the afternoon breeze. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore soothed her soul, and she felt her anxiety start to melt away. A long, weathered boardwalk leading to the beach beckoned her, and she vowed to herself to take a walk every day.
She gripped the warm wooden railing for a few moments and then turned around, anxious to see the rest of the house.
With renewed determination, Arabella walked around the side of the deck to her car. She opened the trunk and lugged the bulging suitcases into the house. Her little caffeine-and-sugar buzz had her getting unpacked in no time. After a long, hot shower, she blew her long hair dry and added some beachy waves. She took special care with her makeup but used a light touch, not wanting to appear too overdone or like she was trying too hard. After much deliberation, she picked out a pair of cuffed white shorts and a yellow linen blouse that looked good with her cinnamon-colored hair and hazel eyes.
Arabella felt a tinge of nerves returning, but then she lifted her chin and gave her reflection a challenging look. After dabbing on her favorite perfume, she added gloss to her lips and surveyed herself in the bathroom mirror. It had been over thirteen years since Grady had last laid eyes on her. Dancing in the studio kept her in shape, and she used the latest lotions and creams, avoided sun exposure, and ate healthily. Okay, she ate healthily sometimes. She didn’t care too much for fast food . . . but comfort food? Yes, please.
Arabella frowned, looking closer into the mirror. There were fine lines around her eyes, and her figure was more rounded than when she was younger. She gave her butt a glance and shrugged. She wasn’t one to obsess over getting older, and had thought her granny, with her lines and wrinkles, was stunning and that advanced age had a beauty of its own. But it was only human nature that she would wonder what Grady would think when he saw her after all these years. Right?
“Well, guess I’m about to find out.” After giving her shirt a tug, she squared her shoulders and sent Oliver a text message that she was on her way.
A stern pep talk rattled through her brain the entire way to Grady’s house. But when she pulled her car into the circular driveway, she nearly lost her nerve. With a groan, she put her hand over her gurgling stomach and dug through her purse for a peppermint. She sucked on the small candy disc, glad for the comforting flavor. Her stomach had given her trouble when her parents would argue and her granny had always had peppermints on hand to soothe the ache. To this day, Arabella never left home without a handful of mints in her purse.
After a deep breath, Arabella got out of the car and stood on wobbly legs. “This is seriously stupid,” she said, angry with herself for having given Grady the power to make her so damned nervous.
Determined to pull herself together, she put her cold hands on the warm metal of the car and gazed over at the house. The off-white stucco and tiled roof was typical for Florida, and while it was pretty, with an abundance of manicured landscaping, the house wasn’t on the grand scale that Grady Heart could most likely afford. But Arabella remembered that Susan Heart had kept her sons in check and made every attempt to keep them humble, which was not an easy task for a mom of a wildly popular boy band. If the tabloid stories were true, Susan might not have totally succeeded, but Arabella recalled that the brothers didn’t flaunt their wealth. Grady had said that his mother made sure that the bulk of their money was invested for the future.
Arabella tried to stop the thoughts racing through her head, but failed. She wondered what explanation Grady had given his mother for her disappearance. Had he told her the truth? Honesty seemed to be important to the Heart family, another reason Arabella had been shocked when she’d caught Grady in bed with a naked girl. She might have paused to listen to his pleas of innocence, but it was damned difficult, since Grady wore nothing more than a towel and a shocked expression. And her news . . .
Don’t go there.
For a wild moment, Arabella hoped this was a dream, because she suddenly found herself at Grady’s front door, not knowing how she got there. She didn’t remember walking down the brick sidewalk and up the front step
s. But her cell-phone alarm didn’t buzz, and she didn’t suddenly wake up in her bed in LA, so she must really be here, standing at the door with her fingertip poised to ring the doorbell. After a few heart-pounding moments she pushed the round button and had to force her legs not to turn around and bolt back to the car. Instead, she clutched her big purse in front of her like a shield and stood there with a wildly beating heart.
Relief washed over Arabella when no one answered the door. Perhaps she’d come too late and rehearsals were over? Then she could leave. Maybe she should go around to the back of the house? Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, she fished her cell phone out of her purse and looked for a reply from Oliver, but there was none.
Should she ring the bell again or hightail it back to her cozy beach cottage? She desperately wanted to run away, and yet she stood there, uncertain.
Perhaps this was all just one big mistake after all went through her head and ping-ponged around. Maybe Grady had found out she was coming and put an end to the offer. Good!
No, not good. Arabella thought of her grandmother’s house. Her failing business! Working with Maxine and drinking corn-silk tea . . . ugh. Gritting her teeth, she reached up and pushed the button harder, as if that would somehow make someone answer the door. But just like with elevators, that didn’t do any good whatsoever.
After a couple of minutes, nervousness evaporated into anger. She hadn’t traveled all the way across the country to be ignored. “Okay . . .” Arabella dropped her phone into the deep cavern of her purse and decided she should walk around the side of the house to investigate the situation. Hopefully, there weren’t going to be any vicious guard dogs or a security system of some sort. Maybe I’ll be scooped up in a net and dangled from a tree, Arabella thought with a nearly hysterical giggle.
“Oh God, I’m losing it.” She was starting to turn around when the front door swung open and she was suddenly staring at a tanned, sculpted bare chest. A light dusting of dark hair led to low-slung red board shorts, tied with a white crisscrossed string. Interestingly, she noted muscled calves and one flip-flop-clad foot and one bare foot. Her heart kicked into hyperspeed.
Where was a brown paper bag to breathe into when you needed one?
Arabella tilted her head back and found herself gazing into the intense blue eyes of Grady Heart. Oh, my . . . His once-boyish good looks had matured, and he was now a devilishly handsome man. Dark stubble shaded a strong jaw softened by full lips that at one time had explored every inch of her willing body. At the steamy thought, Arabella felt her cheeks warm, and the fight-or-flight feeling returned full force.
She dropped her purse and several items escaped, rolling here and there. With an audible intake of breath, she retreated a couple of quick steps and somehow managed to get her foot tangled in the bag’s long leather strap. With a little yelp, she stumbled. Arms flailing, she nearly went down, but Grady grabbed her upper arms, righting her backward tumble.
The palms of her hands landed against warm skin, and her nose pressed against hard muscle. The spicy scent of his cologne and a hint of coconut lotion filled her head and she had a wild urge to see if he tasted as delicious as he smelled, but then again, she knew from experience that he did. Erotic memories pushed good sense out the window and she stood there, transfixed.
What had happened very quickly seemed to occur in dreamlike slow motion.
The rise and fall of his chest left little room between his skin and her mouth, and when her lips made featherlight contact with his chest, she felt the reaction all the way to her curled toes.
Hot damn.
CHAPTER FIVE
STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART
Grady inhaled her light floral scent with vanilla undertones and tried to wrap his brain around the fact that he was holding Arabella York in his arms. She was the last person he’d expected to see when he opened the front door. Shock had rendered him speechless, and so he simply stood there, holding on to her.
He’d wondered what it would feel like to randomly run into her one day, but he’d thought he might see her from across the street, pass her on a crowded sidewalk, or run into her on a flight. He’d never expected to see her on his front doorstep.
Holy shit.
God, he wanted to thread his fingers through her cinnamon-colored hair and pull her even closer. But more than anything else, he longed to tilt Arabella’s face up and kiss her sweet mouth until she melted against him. Memories bombarded his brain . . . her laughter, her smile, and a deep love for her that he’d tried to erase but could never forget. Ah . . . and the hot passion they’d shared, incomparable to any other. He knew every inch of her lithe dancer’s body, tiny but perfectly proportioned. She was uninhibited in bed, giving and taking. . . .
He tried to stop the visions from tumbling through his brain, but the floodgate was wide open and unrelenting.
No! What the hell was he thinking?
She’d left him. Turned her back on him. Shattered his damned heart without a backward glance. But none of that angst seemed to matter now, and he wanted to savor the feeling for just a moment longer before all hell broke loose.
Grady’s body reacted and he longed to lift her in his arms, carry her to his bedroom, and make love to her for hours . . . or days. He felt the warmth of her breath on his chest, and when her lips grazed his skin, he nearly moaned. . . . Oh shit, he did moan.
With a sharp intake of breath, Arabella pushed at his chest. Reality hit him like an icy cold splash of water in his face.
Grady dropped his hands from her arms and took a quick step backward, nearly falling over her giant purse. He remembered how she’d always carried a bag as big as a suitcase. Did she still carry a stash of mints? A bottle of water? A paperback novel?
Grappling for words, Grady risked a look at the face that haunted his dreams and had wrecked his life. “What are you doing here?” he finally managed in a husky tone full of unwanted emotion. He watched her lick her bottom lip, setting off another burst of heat in his blood. Pissed at his reaction, Grady tried for a glare to offset his earlier moan. But when Arabella swallowed hard and her eyes filled with uncertainty that almost resembled fear, a wave of protectiveness washed over him and he nearly pulled her back into his arms . . . but then she cleared her throat and looked up at him with determination.
“I’m here to do the—” she began, but Grady immediately shook his head and put his hands in the air.
“No . . . no, no, wait!” With the shock of seeing Arabella dimming a fraction, her appearance started to make sense. “Don’t tell me you’re here to do the choreography for the reunion concert.”
“I . . . am,” she replied softly, then cleared her throat again. “Oliver hired me.”
“He had no right to do that! I made it well known I didn’t want you here,” Grady said flatly. “I’m sorry for your inconvenience, but you need to go.” He pointed to the black sedan that had to be hers sitting in the driveway.
“ ‘Inconvenience’? I flew across the country, sublet my apartment. . . .” She shook her head. “No.”
“But you didn’t speak to me.” He watched her swallow hard again and felt like an ass, but she must have known he wouldn’t want her here, or he would have made the call to ask her himself. “This will never work, me and you.” He pointed at himself and then back at her.
“I signed a binding contract.”
“Oh really?” Grady folded his arms across his chest. “My name wasn’t on it, so it’s actually not legal. And I seem to remember you were under contract as Heartbeat’s choreographer before, and that didn’t stop you from bolting. We could have come after you for that back then, by the way.” He’d actually considered it.
Arabella stood silently for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “Okay, look . . . there’s no denying that there’s bad blood.”
“Ya think?”
She took a deep breath and rai
sed her palms. “But I am here to do a job. Period. We need to be professional and get to work.” She gave him a level stare. “You know I’m the person to do this.”
“You’re the last person to do this.”
“That’s just stupid. I’m willing to put the past behind us and get the job done.”
“You’re willing?” Grady looked skyward and then back at her. “Wow, that’s . . . that’s just priceless.”
“Ohmigod.” Arabella’s eyes widened, and for a moment Grady thought she was going to turn around and bolt back to her car, but she stood her ground. “Did you really just say that?”
“Seriously?” With his arms still crossed, Grady leaned against the doorframe and tried to act nonchalant despite his racing pulse. “You left me, Arabella. Refused to take my calls. I didn’t even get a chance to explain.”
“A naked girl in your dressing room was all the explanation I needed.”
“Really, Arabella?” Grady pushed away from the doorframe. “I deserved more from you.”
“I think that’s my line.”
Grady blew out a harsh laugh. “Wow. I have no words.”
Arabella’s hazel eyes appeared stormy. God, if she cried, he’d be lost. “What was I supposed to think?”
“You were supposed to trust me,” he answered hotly.
“So you’re going to stand there and tell me that you didn’t sleep with her? Grady, you wore nothing but a damned towel and she had this . . . this grin on her face when I walked in. And you looked . . . guilty.”
“I looked guilty. Wow.” Grady ground his teeth together. Part of him wanted to shout that he was innocent and that he didn’t have a damned clue how that groupie ended up in his bed. She was just there when he came out of the shower. Another part of him wanted to go back inside his house and slam the door in her face. She was wrong for believing the worst, no matter how bad the situation must have looked to her.