Broken Glamour

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Broken Glamour Page 11

by Maggie Marr


  Heat burned through my limbs. Staying sober was a bitch. Doing all the right things every single day was hard. But getting the freeze-out from Ice Princess Amanda really sucked.

  Gayle set a dish on the center of the table. Cheese bubbled along the edges. Beside it sat a basket of fresh bread and in another bowl was a giant green salad. I was starving. I sat across from Amanda and Gayle took the chair at the head of the table.

  “How was the ride?” Gayle asked.

  “You have a great spot,” I said. “The view is spectacular.”

  “Really? Was it?” Amanda asked. Her voice sounded soft yet sharp. She lifted tongs full of salad and emptied the greens onto her plate. “You nearly fell over the side of the cliff.”

  Gayle turned to Amanda and tilted her head. The space between her eyebrows wrinkled.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I got a little vertigo standing there.” My fingertips brushed the linen napkin. “The experience made me think that maybe I wasn’t passed out when I went over the cliff in my car.” Gayle’s gaze was fixed on me, but it softened with my words. “I don’t remember much from that night, not really anything. Just bits and pieces.”

  “The wrong bits and pieces,” Amanda said. She didn’t look up from her plate.

  “Amanda?” Gayle asked. She settled her hand over Amanda’s, but Amanda slipped her fingers from Gayle’s grasp. “Amanda, honey? What is it?”

  Amanda didn’t look up. She didn’t meet my gaze or Gayle’s gaze. She pushed her chair back and wood scraped against the tile floor. Amanda tossed her napkin on her seat and walked toward the front door.

  Gayle pinned me with her eyes. “I don’t know what happened on your ride, but Amanda does not act this way. Go make this right.”

  My chair scraped over tile and I stood up from the table. Making this right would be a helluva lot easier if I knew exactly what I’d done wrong.

  Amanda

  The open expanse of the front yard sloped toward the hills that lay under a big open sky. The ancient porch swing creaked. A favorite spot, I tucked my knees under my chin and circled my shins with my arms. I didn’t expect Ryan to follow me out of the house and onto the front porch. But there he was, outlined by the light from the windows. His silhouette sexy as hell. He was recovering in more ways than one. His body was filling out with the muscles that had been his trademark before the accident.

  I’d always been a sucker for a man with a good bicep.

  I closed my eyes. The porch swing swayed beneath me. Ryan stood before me. Tingles flashed through my belly. His chest lifted and fell. His rhythmic inhale and exhale accompanied my slow rock on the swing. I pulled in a deep breath and smelled soap and a deeper darker scent that was all male and all Ryan. Electricity circled around us and licked at me even though I was angry.

  “All right, Princess,” Ryan said. “What the hell did I do?”

  “I’m not a princess,” I said. My words sounded hard even to my ears.

  A smile ate up Ryan’s face and he crossed those big beautiful arms over that well-muscled chest. “Don’t like that, do you?” He settled back on his heels.

  With one hard kick to his knees I could send him sprawling backward onto his ass. Instead I pulled my arms tighter around my legs. The words wouldn’t come, so instead, I pulled my mouth into the famous Legend smile.

  “I just needed some air, you better get back inside before your dinner gets cold.”

  Ryan’s cocky grin stuck to his lips. He tilted his head to the side and in the glow of the front window I saw his eyes travel over my face. “Wow, you may be a better actor than your dad. If I didn’t know you, Amanda, I’d almost fall for that fake smile on your face.”

  The muscles in my cheeks trembled. I bit back my words and kept the smile. If I maintained this look, Ryan would leave me alone. People always, eventually, left me alone.

  Instead, Ryan stepped closer. He bent forward. He placed his hands on his knees. He was inches from my face.

  Air rushed into my lungs. Heat flashed through my body. My heartbeat jumped up. I sat straighter. My spine pressed into the wood of the porch swing.

  Ryan’s gaze examined my face as though he’d been presented with some rare wild animal he’d never before seen. “Seriously Amanda, you got some real chops here. You sure you don’t want to forget about the New York art scene and become an actress?”

  His gaze traveled from my eyes and dropped to my breasts. My breath shortened under the pressure of his nearness. His eyes traced upward over my neck and stopped at my mouth.

  My smile faltered. I couldn’t keep it, I couldn’t hold it. A ball of desire laced with anger tightened in my chest into a confused and tangled knot.

  Ryan’s gaze moved from my lips and up to my eyes. His cocky grin was gone. He wore a hard look of desire.

  “I said I was sorry.” His voice was a whisper, rough and heavy. “I am sorry. You deserve a good guy, a sober guy.” His gaze dropped from mine and he shut his eyes and inhaled. He opened his eyes and they contained sorrow.

  “You don’t deserve a drunk addict sleeping with you. You deserve so much more.”

  “I know what I deserve,” I said. “You’re an idiot. I’m not.”

  Ryan’s head jerked back as though I’d smacked him across the face.

  He pulled his hands from his thighs and stood. “But I thought…” He squinted his eyes.

  “Oh, you did sleep with someone at the wedding,” I said. “It just wasn’t me.”

  “What? If it wasn’t you then…” He walked across the porch and looked out at the deepening darkness. He tried to grab onto a memory. A memory lost to the accident and the alcohol and the drugs. He turned back to me. “If it wasn’t you, then who the hell was it?” His tone hardened.

  The memory of Ryan behind Kiley with her wedding dress up over her hips flashed in my head. Like a horse kick to the chest, pain surged through my ribs. I didn’t want to name the feeling; to name the sensation in my chest was to give power to this ache. I didn’t want to see the memory again, I didn’t want to keep the vision of the two of them together.

  “Kiley,” I said. Pain pulsed through me. “You slept with Kiley Kepner at my father’s wedding and I walked in on both of you.”

  Ryan grasped his jaw with his hand. His gaze shifted from me back to the horizon. “Suddenly so many things make sense.” Ryan turned to me. “I’m still sorry, even more sorry than before. I am such an asshole.”

  “Was,” I said. “You’re much better now.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Thanks.” He walked over and wrapped his hand around the chain of the porch swing. “You did the right thing and told your dad?”

  I nodded.

  “Now you’re paying the price with Kiley.”

  “That’s the Legend way,” I said. “If the message doesn’t fit the image, make certain to kill the messenger.” The denim of my jeans slid under my palms.

  He sat beside me on the swing and angled his body toward mine.

  Heat flashed through me. This Ryan, the sober guy who apologized and wanted to do the right thing drew me in. He plucked at my heart. “I’m trying like hell to never be that guy again.” He grasped my hand.

  My heartbeat kicked upward in my chest. He wove his fingers through mine and the rough pads of his fingertips pressed into the back of my hand.

  “I am sorry. I am going to make this right. Tell me how I can make this right for you.”

  He asked me what I needed. He wanted me to be honest and tell him the truth, my truth, not my normal head-toss of a response.

  “I’ll call your dad,” he continued, “I’ll—”

  I held up my hand; my hair fell about my face with a shake of my head. “Daddy believed me when I told him at the wedding, I know he did.” My empty hand fisted on my thigh. Ryan’s eyes held a sorrow mixed with questions. He really did want to make this right for me.

  “Then why the deep freeze? Why did he cut you off?”

  “I’m not certain Dad
dy knows himself. He’s in the Amazon and I’m kind of hoping it was all Kiley’s doing. Otherwise—” A lump tightened my throat. I swallowed. “Otherwise he’s just being vindictive because I was honest with him.”

  Ryan’s hand tightened around mine. Those blue eyes so close to me were concentrated on my face.

  “Amanda,” Ryan whispered.

  His other hand brushed against my cheek. Suddenly I didn’t care about Kiley, I didn’t care about Daddy, I didn’t care about Ryan’s past or his struggles. His lips, his body were driving me crazy. His hand drew me forward and his lips were on mine.

  His lips were tentative, gentle. His fingertips traced along my cheekbone and over my jaw. Electric sparks trailed his fingertips, down to my throat. A moan crossed my lips. With the sound, his mouth grew greedy. He clasped my shoulders and pulled me closer. His tongue slipped past my lips and intertwined with mine. Want pressed through my body. The heat was fierce and burned hot. Desire clutched between my legs. His hands grasped both my shoulders and he pressed me away.

  “Oh my God, Amanda.” His forehead pressed into mine. His breath in short pants. “I … wow. But not here. Not now.”

  I nodded. He grasped both my hands and clutched them tight.

  “We should go back inside,” I said.

  “I’d rather stay here and kiss you.”

  My heart thrilled with his words. Even if kissing Ryan was the worst idea ever, my body was saying something else. My lips, just kissed by him, wanted more. My entire body tingled with desire. I wanted his hands rough and on my bare skin.

  “You two coming back in before dinner gets cold?”

  Gayle’s voice, a bucket of cold water, jolted me back to reality. I jumped up. My fingertips brushed over my hair.

  “Coming,” I called.

  Ryan stood. He pressed his hand to mine. His chin tilted toward me. “This isn’t finished, Princess.”

  Chapter 15

  Ryan

  Silence enveloped the car on the way home from Gayle’s to Dillon and Lane’s house. Amanda and I didn’t exchange two words. The pups greeted us at the door and then Lane grabbed Amanda to go and look at pictures of plates and flowers and invitations for the wedding. Dillon was still on set so I ambled up the stairs, with Kong beside me, ready for an ice cold shower and my bed.

  Heat had licked through my body all the way home in the car. There were a million things to say to Amanda, but not one word passed my lips. What could I offer her? How could I ever repair the damage I’d done to her and her father’s relationship? She deserved a much better guy than me, a barely recovered addict who had some obvious boundary issues. Shit.

  I opened the bedroom door and headed to the shower. I peeled off my clothes and a fine layer of reddish dust was embedded in every crease of my body. A reminder of the beautiful landscape I had enjoyed that afternoon.

  Every crease of Amanda’s body would have that same layer of dust.

  Amanda’s body.

  I closed my eyes. My cock throbbed. Amanda’s body. Hot. Naked. Wet and pressed against me. My hand grasped my hard dick. Her breasts pressed against her shirt were the perfect size. I’d wanted to run my thumb over her pert tight nipple. The cold tile of the bathroom wall pressed into the palm of my hand while my other hand wrapped around the base of my cock.

  Amanda. Her lips soft and wet. Her tongue running into my mouth, stroking over my tongue. I grasped harder and pulled. Wrapping my hot mouth around her bud of a nipple and sucking, sucking those tits that were sure to be sweeter than sugar. Pulling her shirt up over her head. My hands running along her ribcage to her tits where I played with one in my mouth, and then kissed across her chest to the tight bud on her other breast. My hands roaming down over her belly to the soft mound between her legs, where I pressed my fingers into her hot pussy.

  My cock throbbed with the image of Amanda naked and stretched out under me. My lips connected with the hot wet flesh between her legs. Her hips bucked in anticipation. My mouth wrapped around her clit and sucked. She moaned, my name a hot whisper on her breath; she repeated my name over and over and over as I made her come. I grasped harder around my cock and my stroke deepened. The throb between my legs grew and I pulled harder and faster and harder and faster.

  “Amanda, Amanda, Amanda.” The whisper of her name on my lips, a tremble from the base of my spine rumbled through my body. My breath jolted out of me in sharp bursts. I doubled forward until the hot throbbing jolt of come spurted from me. I pressed my forehead to the cool tile surface, my body spent from the rush. This desire for Amanda was deep and fierce and dangerous and I didn’t want it to end.

  Amanda

  “Did you tell him why he’s an idiot?” Lane leaned over the dining room table. A dozen photo books and swatches of fabric covered the giant table. Her eyes flicked up from a photo of gold colored chargers.

  “I did.” Heat rushed up my neck and pulsed into my cheeks. Lane’s eyes widened.

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

  “We”—I closed my eyes and air rushed into my lungs—“we kissed.”

  An I’m-not-surprised sort of smile flickered over Lane’s lips.

  “This isn’t a good thing,” I said.

  Denying this attraction for Ryan was pointless. The heat, when we kissed, was all-consuming. The feelings overwhelmed me—I was unfamiliar with being consumed by desire. I’d spent most of my time since Mom died trying to avoid becoming involved with anyone. Being smacked with feelings for a guy who, not that long ago, I blamed for the destruction of my posh lifestyle, was uncomfortable to say the least. Granted, I’d been the person who actually told my father about Kiley and Ryan’s indiscretion, but he’d been the guy trying to bang the bride.

  “I can’t get involved with Ryan,” I said. “Besides the obvious reason, I’m leaving in six weeks for New York.”

  “Yeah, probably not very healthy,” Lane said. She twirled a napkin ring in her fingers. “I don’t think he’s supposed to get into a relationship for the first year he’s sober.”

  “Daddy did AA,” I said. “But, unfortunately that rule didn’t stop him. After Mom passed away it was like Hugh Hefner had moved into our house.”

  “Your dad is an original,” Lane said.

  Daddy was one of a kind. “I just...” my gaze searched around the bright ochre-colored walls. “I just can’t let myself get attached to anyone. Getting attached to Ryan would be the worst idea.”

  Lane nodded, and while the crinkle between her brows and the solid set of her jaw seemed to agree with me, there was a sparkle in her eyes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s just…,” Lane began. She looked away and closed one of the giant bridal magazines. Her bright blue eyes looked back at me. “It’s just, sometimes it’s not that easy. I tried to do the same thing with Dillon. I knew the timing was bad for both of us, and it didn’t seem like we could possibly be a match. I was going back to Kansas in September, but in the end none of that mattered.” She blinked and a blush rushed into her face. “In the end we just couldn’t fight the attraction and ultimately I believe it was meant to be.”

  My lips softened with her story. The love affair between Dillon and Lane was like a storybook romance.

  “What you two have is special,” I said. I grasped her fingers and squeezed. “Of course you couldn’t fight it. You two were meant to be together.” I leaned back in the chair. “But I am meant to go to New York and start my life. Ryan is meant to become a big action star again. And while we may be hot for each other right now, that’s all it is. Desire. Nothing more.” A sigh burst over my lips. “I can pretend not to be attracted to him until the end of the film, right?”

  Lane rolled her lips inward and nodded her head. She wasn’t convinced and yet she was trying to be a supportive friend.

  “Well, I can and I will,” I said. My arms tightened across my chest. “Neither one of us can be in a relationship right now. He has to focus on staying sober and we bo
th have to focus on our careers.” Plus I didn’t even want to consider what a mess getting involved with Ryan would cause with me and my father and Kiley.

  “You’re exactly right,” Lane said. She stacked her magazines and look-books into piles on the table. “Keep it professional. Once Ryan’s movie wraps you leave for New York.”

  “Then my new life can begin.” I stood and pushed in the dining room table chair. “Okay, his call time is eight a.m. tomorrow, so I’m up at six. I’d better get to bed.”

  “Not sure I’ll be awake that early, so I’ll see you later in the day,” Lane said.

  “Sounds good.” I walked into the foyer just as the front door opened. Dillon’s smile took over his face.

  “Where’s my bride-to-be?” he asked.

  “Hey, baby,” Lane called from the dining room.

  Dillon’s gaze flicked toward me. “Am I the luckiest guy on the planet? I have no idea how I scored that perfect girl in there.”

  I smiled at Dillon’s words about my best friend. He strode across the foyer and wrapped his wife-to-be in his arms. His lips found Lane’s and their kiss held heat, but also love. The kind of love that lasted forever. The kind of love that I’d never known but was certain, someday, a long time from now, that I would definitely find.

  Ryan

  All my daily exercise hadn’t tamed one of the nastier side effects of my sobriety—insomnia. The grass was cool and damp on my feet and the evening air cast a hint of a chill over my bare chest. The City of Angels sparkled in the distance. The view was meant to calm me. Mellow my mood. A hard-edged want pulsed through me that not even getting off to my made-up images of Amanda, nor my cold shower, nor my hours of lying awake in bed had dulled. Need thrummed through my muscles, my bones, my mind. Over my shoulder I could see that the French doors to Amanda’s room were open.

 

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