Starlight Hill: Complete collection 1-8

by Heatherly Bell

  Jack threw his bag on the bed closest to the door. “You sure you’re okay with this.”

  “Of course. Why waste all that money when we can share a room?”

  “Good.” He unzipped his bag. “We should go to dinner soon. Might be a good idea to go to bed early too. Mechanic claimed he’d have the car ready first thing. I want to be there when he opens.”

  “I just have to make a quick call to my mother first.”

  He grabbed his card key. “I’ll give you some privacy and take a walk around outside.”

  Once he was out the door, Fallon dialed her mother. “I’m not going to be there for the breakfast. I’m sorry.”

  “What have you done now?”

  Fallon scoffed into the phone. “Nothing. Just a little car accident I had. But don’t worry, I’m fine.”

  After Fallon had explained, her mother sighed loudly. “You always seem to attract trouble, but I’m glad you’re all right. Maybe we can reschedule. How’s Bud doing?”

  “He’s taking it in stride.” Fallon bit her lower lip.

  A couple of weeks ago, her mother had demanded to know the name of her boyfriend. Said if he didn’t have a name he clearly didn’t exist. Fallon had been drinking a beer at the time and…the rest had just kind of happened.

  “Mom?” Fallon had waited to ask this question because she had been worried about the answer. When David had been to L.A. this summer to visit, he didn’t talk much about his dad’s fiancé. And Fallon certainly hadn’t wanted to ruin their time together by bringing it up. “Does David like Sally?”

  “Oh, you know, he seems to like her all right. But you’re still his mother.”

  Fallon actually wanted David to like his new stepmother. It was best for all of them to get along. It had taken her years to get to this point, but her love for David didn’t mean he couldn’t also love and have plenty of room for other people in his life. Still, she understood that Ted getting married would change everything. It might be selfish, but she didn’t want Sally to spend more time with David than Fallon did. She hung up with Mom but Jack still wasn’t back, so she went through her overnight bag and found her make-up case and toiletries. She set up in the bathroom, leaving a little room for whatever Jack had with him. She wondered if he did anything special to his hair, or if he just rolled out of bed with it that way. The actors who were her clients spent good money to get their hair to look the way Jack’s did. But by all appearances, Jack was one of those men who put little to no effort into his looks. His hair looked naturally wind-swept half the time, and she had to continually restrain herself from running her fingers through it the way she wanted.

  She, on the other hand, looked frightening in the morning. Her hair usually stuck up in at least two different directions if not three, and her pasty white skin made her look ghostly. Jack had that beautiful tan olive skin that went so well with the dark hair and eyes. Maybe she should go to bed with make-up already on, a trick more than a few of her clients swore by.

  You know what? Screw it. She wasn’t here to impress Jack. He was her pretend boyfriend.

  Emphasis on pretend.

  When Jack got back to the room, Fallon had changed. She looked fresh-faced and not at all like she’d been hit by a Christmas tree. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a blue sweater, taut against her shapely breasts. All things he was going to ignore if it killed him.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Ready?”

  The Mission Inn stood directly across the courtyard from the Mexican restaurant their driver had recommended. Jack took Fallon’s hand and they walked across the courtyard strung with more fairy lights.

  There was a thirty-minute wait at Three Amigos because of all the Christmas parties. After putting his name down with the hostess, Jack led Fallon into the bar area where he found a table and ordered them a couple of Coronas. A mariachi band made its way around the bar taking requests. He took a long pull of beer and scanned the crowd. All around them, couples were laughing, kissing, and tearing open presents. It was, after all, the season. He tried not to think about the conversations they were bound to have this Christmas around the Cooper family dinner table. His mother would ask once again whether there was any hope that he and Alicia might still reconcile (zero) and give her a grandchild before she was six feet under at the Holy Cross Cemetery. His father would want to know why he’d quit police work. His contractor brother would want to know whether he’d be able to work cheaply.

  “You haven’t told me much about your family.” Fallon fiddled with the edge of a bar napkin.

  “Mom and Dad, my older brother Manny and his family. All in Oregon. Already upset that I’m divorced. Wait until they hear I quit my job and have no plan. You liked that, right? How do you think they’ll take it?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not so much that I didn’t like it. It seems pretty odd, that’s all. But what do I know? I’m the woman going to a wedding with a fake boyfriend.”

  “My mother is a Puerto Rican Catholic and she hasn’t been happy since I divorced so this is going to be more of the same for her.”

  “Maybe you should lie too.”

  He winked at her. “Why? You want to come with me and keep up the charade?”

  “I’m going to spend Christmas with David, or you know, I would.”

  “I’m kidding.”

  Their name was eventually called and they had a quick dinner in the dining part of the restaurant. While a montage of holiday mariachi music piped through the speakers, they kept the conversation on safer topics, learning each other’s favorite movies, songs, and sports teams. Fallon didn’t have any sports teams she followed, other than David’s Little League team, The Rockets, and the Oakland Sliders. Both rather self-explanatory. She had to take out a pen and paper to list all Jack’s favorite sports teams, afraid she’d forget some.

  After dinner they headed back to their hotel room, where there was no more avoiding the inevitable.

  He would have to get a solid night’s sleep with Fallon in the bed next to his.

  7

  Fallon had never stayed in the Pismo Beach area before, only passed through on her way to Disneyland. It seemed as if every building, from the auto repair shop to the restaurant to the hotel, was covered with a Mission style adobe-tiled roof. She wouldn’t normally notice such things, but keeping her mind on the architecture of buildings was certainly better than where it wanted to be. Because her dirty mind kept going to one bedroom. Who would get undressed first? Did Jack sleep in his underwear or had he brought pajamas? Did he snore or talk in his sleep? Or did he walk in his sleep, and if so could she help him to somehow make his way to her bed?

  Once he’d opened the door they both walked past the entryway bathroom and then stood quietly for a moment.

  “You go ahead—”

  “Why don’t you—”

  They both spoke at once.

  Jack waved his hand toward the bathroom. “Ladies first.”

  Fallon grabbed her stuff and went into the bathroom to change. She’d had no seduction plans for this trip, and her clothing told the true story. She’d brought her worn, old, comfy and holey Bruce Springsteen t-shirt to sleep in. Usually when she attempted to seduce a man, she…oh god, she’d forgotten. That’s how long it had been. As she brushed her teeth she wondered if she’d ever find a good man who was available. Someone who didn’t run from commitment and responsibility like they were both toxic waste. As she rinsed her mouth and spit, she wondered if maybe her standards were too high where it came to that. As she flossed her teeth, she glanced in the mirror to remind herself that she was no longer a twenty-seven-year-old ex-cheerleader/single mother. She had built a life for herself in L.A., along with a solid reputation as a celebrity stylist. She could afford to be picky.

  Fallon slowly opened the bathroom door and saw that Jack had turned out the lights. Perfect, since she had planned on running to her side of the bed and hopping under the covers before he could see her choice of sleepwear. But when s
he walked by Jack’s bed he seemed to be asleep. He lay on his back, hands spread behind his neck, breathing softly. He wore no shirt, and the covers were folded to his waist. No harm could be done from taking a glimpse, so she got a bit closer to get a clear look at the man’s sculpted pecs and flat abdomen. A light black line of chest hairs trailed down his abdomen and pointed the way south to the Promised Land. She considered pulling back the covers to glance at what lay underneath, but just then her brain cells kicked in full force. She’d been caught in a cloud of lust-induced stupidity, and it had been a long time since one of those threatened to blur her vision. But this man was a light sleeper. Oh, she’d bet her life on it. No. She would not be a voyeur tonight.

  Jack opened one eye. “It’s not polite to stare.”

  “Oh, crap!” Fallon ran to her bed and hopped under the covers. “Don’t scare me like that.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t scare you by talking?”

  “You were asleep. I-I thought you were asleep.” She pulled the covers up to her neck.

  “Just resting my eyes.”

  “Next time warn a girl!”

  “Fallon? I’m going to rest my eyes for a bit. And by the way, Springsteen is a good choice. I love the boss.”

  “Big deal. So I like to be comfortable when I sleep.”

  “So do I.”

  “Oh, please tell me you’re not naked under there.”

  He gave her an easy smile. “You could have just gone ahead and pulled the covers back to find out for yourself.”

  Fallon groaned and put the pillow over her head. “I was not going to do that.”

  Jack hopped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Fallon tried very hard not to peek, but she did anyway. He wore sexy boxer style briefs and his muscular thighs and butt filled them out as nicely as she’d imagined.

  He was back in bed after a few minutes, and propped up on one hand to face her. “We should talk about a few things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Things I should know. How long have you lived in L.A.?”

  “Two years. I moved down because I had a chance to work at one of the best celebrity salons on Rodeo Drive. I’ve lived cheaply and saved everything I could because some day I’m going to have my own salon. The only problem is they keep raising the lease on storefronts. Plus, I hate being away from David. I agreed that he should stay in Starlight Hill with his father, but I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

  “You don’t like being away from him.”

  “I miss him so much. Every day. But honestly? It was kind of nice to start over, in a big city where no one knew anything about me. Like a blank slate. I could be anyone I wanted to be. Sometimes, in a small town like mine, people get stuck in a rut.” Her throat constricted. “So now you see why I can’t afford to be relaxed about the future like you are. I need a plan because I have a son.”

  “Understood. In my case, I have no ties.”

  “I assume you were married before.”

  “We don’t talk. No kids. I don’t imagine I could quit my job if I did.”

  “Listen, I realize that you might not see it this way, but you’re still very much a—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “I’m not a cop anymore.”

  “Okay,” she said, letting Jack sit in his denial.

  “How’d you do in school?” Jack asked, rolling over now to stare at the ceiling.

  “I was a cheerleader in high school.” She sighed.

  “Unbelievable,” he said.

  Fallon couldn’t be sure but thought he’d mumbled: “We’re practically made for each other.”

  “What did you say?” Fallon crept to the edge of her bed.

  “Football player. I dated cheerleaders.”

  “Of course.” She laughed. “God, I was so stupid in high school.”

  “Makes two of us. I don’t know about you but I was headed for the NFL and the Hall of Fame. It was a wonder my head fit through the hallways of the high school. Somewhere along the line that didn’t work out for me. Humbling.”

  “For you and so many others.” She rolled back to the center of her bed, willing herself to stop feeling so close to him.

  The dark gave off a misleading air of intimacy that shook her. Conversations like these happened in your lover’s arms and not with someone you’d just met.

  “Go to sleep. We need to get up early and hit the road.” He rolled over, showing her his back.

  A good, solid, and strong back. Muscular and tanned, and she was totally not thinking about licking it. “Not until you tell me something.”

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, still turned away from her.

  “Why aren’t you a cop anymore?”

  “That’s a story for another day.”

  8

  The night went far worse than Jack could have imagined.

  He barely got any sleep thinking of her right next to him in that flimsy Springsteen t-shirt that fell just above her curvy thighs. All he wanted to do was climb into bed with her and let his hands roam freely under that t-shirt until he pulled it off. She would have rosy pink nipples and he was certain she’d taste like honey. He happened to like nothing more than a real woman pared down to the essentials. Plain t-shirts and no make-up. Real. Fallon was nothing if not real. He’d wanted to ask about the kid because of his insatiable curiosity, but regretted the question immediately after asking it. She was entitled to her privacy. She’d told him anyway, in a raw voice that made his chest tight again. The whole situation had become a hell of a lot worse when he’d heard the pain in her voice and wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms. Like he’d done earlier today, when he thought he’d be saying goodbye to her company on the rest of his road trip. Never would he have imagined that she’d be so soft in his arms, and smell so much like a woman. Sweet. Like fresh air and scented soap. It hit him right then and there how much he missed touching someone. He’d missed the intimacy of a woman’s soft moans. Of the sweet spot between her thighs and the muscles that quivered and tensed when he touched just the right way.

  All things he had to stop thinking about.

  He’d gone to sleep with wood and woken up with wood. Before this became a problem only she could help him with, he had to start thinking about something else. Now. Fallon rolled over on her stomach and let out a soft sigh. Okay, not helping. Her t-shirt had ridden partly up to her stunning ass and he was treated to a half moon. He wanted to kiss that soft-looking round cheek and then work his way up her body until he reached her sleepy mouth. She wanted him too, if last night’s peeping Tom show had been any indication. Or maybe she was just curious about him. He felt the same way but something in his gut told him this wasn’t right. Not when he had nothing to offer her.

  Cold shower time. He kicked the covers off and headed to the bathroom.

  The shower water was the shock that he needed, and he stayed under the stream until his thoughts ran back to the job. Fallon was right in that no matter what he said on the subject, he couldn’t help acting and thinking like a cop. Regardless, it wouldn’t change facts. He wouldn’t go back and that was final. Since he’d been promoted to homicide a few years ago his world had turned dark and sinister. Finished off what little had been left of his marriage. He couldn’t shake the work off at the end of the day because the days didn’t end. And while he realized that all folks lived in the same world in which people hurt the ones they loved in indescribable ways, not everyone got to see the damage up close and personal. Memory cells were cruel. That last case had done him in. A kid.

  He wanted to forget.

  Fallon wanted to know why, and he wanted to tell her. He would tell her. He just didn’t want to tell her in a way that would bring his dark former world into hers. He wanted this trip to relax her, anyway, not wind her up even tighter. He got that she was a single mother, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t still enjoy her life. She was beautiful and young and deserved to have some fun. With or without him.

  He got
out of the shower and toweled off, gratified to find her still asleep. It gave him time to get dressed and find coffee. The hotel had a continental breakfast spread downstairs, and he loaded up on muffins, cereal, and two coffees. He had no idea how Fallon took her coffee, so he shoved creamers and sugars into his pockets.

  “Are you and your wife enjoying your stay?” the same delusional attendant said from behind the counter as he walked past on his way to the elevator.

  “She’s not—yes. We’re having a great time.”

  They certainly would be, were she actually his wife. When he let himself back in the room, balancing everything, Fallon sat on the edge of the bed rubbing her eyes.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  “Coffee,” she mumbled.

  He wasn’t sure if that was an observation or a request. Trying not to smile at the bed hair, he handed over a coffee cup and pulled cream and sugar packets out of his pockets. “I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee.”

  “Cream.”

  One word sentences, and with Fallon’s proclivity for words he would have to go out on a limb and guess she was not a morning person. “Here you go. You sleep alright?”

  “Uh-huh.” She poured cream into her coffee.

  At least one of them had. He sat on the edge of his bed and drank his own black coffee, then took a bite of a muffin. Fallon looked a little scary in the morning, but funny how he still wanted to kiss that sleepy mouth.

  He cleared his throat. “We should get going as soon as you’re ready.”

  She didn’t say anything, but coffee in hand, staggered toward the bathroom. He heard the shower go on and resigned himself to the fact that he would not be invited to join her in there. That’s not what this gig was about. This was fake. Pretend. It wasn’t as if he was looking to knock boots with someone, but he could see he’d be the wrong guy for Fallon. At least for the next week, though, he would be the right guy. The right fake guy.