Seaside Lovers: Grayson Lacroux (Love in Bloom: Seaside Summers)
Page 23
Sawyer, Sky, and Grayson’s brothers and father were talking on the grass a few feet from him, their deep voices similar and comforting. Matt’s arm was draped lazily over their father’s shoulder. It was wonderful seeing everyone together. Grayson’s and Parker’s schedules were a little chaotic. They had two homes now, their cottage on the pond and Parker’s home in Malibu, as well as a gazebo for each; Grayson intended to keep his promise of giving Parker everything. He’d built the gazebos with the same theme as the railing he’d installed in the house on the bay: thick, stable roots with lots of branches and a few birds thrown in for Christmas. It didn’t matter how chaotic their schedules were or how many homes they had. As long as they were together, wherever they were became home.
Hunter broke away from the group, watching Jana cross the grass toward the gazebo as he came to Grayson’s side. “You finally figured out how to get Matt to visit.”
“It was a nice side effect to the engagement party,” Grayson admitted, though he would have rescheduled if Matt couldn’t be there.
“He’s had his eye on Mira all afternoon.” Hunter nodded toward Matt, who was watching Mira and her son like a hawk.
“Good. Maybe he’ll have a reason to stay.” Grayson shifted his gaze back to Parker. She’d been sitting in the gazebo for the past hour, talking with Luce, Sarah Stein, and Jamie’s grandmother, Vera, who had come back for the engagement party. After the DNA results had come back, he and Parker had visited Sarah and gently broken the news about Miriam and about Parker. Sarah had cried tears of sadness over losing her daughter and tears of joy for the granddaughter she now had a chance to get to know.
Parker leaned in and hugged Sarah. She talked with Jana for a few minutes, both of them stealing glances in Grayson’s and Hunter’s direction. Then they stepped out of the gazebo and headed over to them. Parker’s eyes connected with Grayson’s, sending an electrical charge through the air. He knew he’d never get used to the effect she had on him.
“It’s a shame Reggie wasn’t able to find out any more details about her mother,” Hunter said. They’d hired private investigator Reggie Steele, who had come highly recommended by Kurt’s brother-in-law, Treat Braden. There was no record of Miriam Stein after she left home and no record of Sherry Collins until she took a job at a music store while she was pregnant with Parker. She’d worked there until the day she was killed. Apparently her boss was a good guy and had allowed her to bring Parker—Polly—to work with her. Reggie assumed Miriam had secured several false identities in the years in between when she’d left her family and when she’d become Sherry Collins. He’d been unable to make any connection between Miriam or Sherry and Bert, although it appeared that Bert had left the letters as a guiding light for Parker. Reggie discovered that Bert had made a few of the same inquiries he had, which indicated that Bert had at least suspected there might be a connection. He’d spoken with Sherry’s boss a couple years earlier and had mentioned that Parker reminded him of his niece. They could only assume Bert hadn’t told Parker of his suspicions so as not to upset her without having proof to back up his thoughts, and perhaps he was still hoping to figure it out. His attorney said Bert had notified him of the safe-deposit box several years prior to his death.
Sky insisted it was the universe stepping in once again, and Grayson thought it was probably a little bit of both. It had been as heartrending as it was a blessing for both Parker and Sarah to have the level of closure they were able to find.
“Miriam was obviously smart,” Grayson said. “But that’s not surprising. Look at her daughter.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of Parker as she crossed the grass in her cute jeans shorts and the colorful bohemian top she’d bought in Provincetown with the girls yesterday. When they were on the Cape, she no longer fretted when she left the house. She’d always have to be careful in more media-centric areas, but she finally seemed comfortable in her own skin, as evident in everything about her, from her more relaxed aura, to her gorgeous smile, bright eyes, and loving nature.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said as she came to his side. “Everything okay with the ladies?”
“Couldn’t be better. Sarah and Vera have so much in common. They’re talking about the old days.” Parker’s eyes filled with mischief. “Jana and I were just thinking…”
“Oh no. This can’t be good.” Hunter pulled Jana against him.
“You’re right,” Jana said, poking his abs. “It’s not good; it’s great.”
“What would you guys think about a double wedding?” The hope in Parker’s eyes tweaked every part of Grayson’s heart.
Grayson looked at Hunter, who rolled his eyes, but Grayson knew his brother well. That eye roll was to keep up his macho image. Hunter would do anything for Jana. The same way Grayson would for Parker. Before either of them could say a word, Sky ran across the grass and barreled into the group.
“Oh my God, you guys! I have the best idea!” Sky grabbed Jana’s and Parker’s arms. “A triple wedding!”
The girls screamed and hugged each other.
“Yes!” Parker said.
“Definitely!” Jana added.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Hunter waved his hands, silencing them. “Parker and Grayson don’t even know where they’re living from one week to the next. He’s going to Texas, she’s going to be filming in some undetermined location, and then he’s in Georgia. How can you guys plan a wedding?”
“We’re engaged! Of course we’re going to plan a wedding.” Parker waved her engagement ring, which Grayson had made. He’d poured his love into the intricate rose-gold setting, creating tiny birds and flowers surrounding a two-karat pear-shaped diamond.
“If my girl wants a triple wedding, we’ll make it happen,” Grayson said as Parker came to his side. He draped his arm over her shoulder, soaking in her radiant smile. “Right, baby?”
“Definitely. So we do a little more traveling than most couples. This is our life now, Hunter. This moment here, and our time in Texas and California, and wherever else life leads us. There’s nothing we can’t figure out, so let’s not overthink it.”
Parker gazed up at Grayson and added, “Besides, how can you doubt your brother’s ability to do anything? He said he’d give me everything, and he’s already given me more than I ever dreamed of.”
—Ready for More Seaside Fun?—
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SEASIDE WHISPERS (Matt Lacroux)
Having a mad crush on her boss’s son, Matt Lacroux—an intriguing mix of proper gentleman and flirtatious bad boy—is probably not the smartest idea for single mother Mira Savage. Especially when the company, and her job, is already on shaky ground. But as a Princeton professor, Matt’s life is hours away from Mira’s home on Cape Cod, keeping him safely in the fantasy-only zone. And as a single mother to six-year-old Hagen, with a floundering company to save, fantasies are all she has time for. But Mira doesn’t count on Matt coming home on sabbatical with plans for more than just fulfilling his publishing contract and reconnecting with his family. While Mira’s saving his father’s company, will Matt succeed at claiming her heart?
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Continue reading for excerpts from 3 more of Melissa’s publications.
Excerpt: CHASED BY LOVE (The Ryders)
Fall in love with Trish & Boone
“I’M GOING OVER. Should I go over? Tell me I shouldn’t. Or should I?” Trish Ryder clutched her cell phone, pacing inside her trailer on the set of her latest film, No Strings. She’d been trying to study her lines all night, but her costar, famed rocker Boone Stryker, had a full-blown party going on at his trailer, and she could barely think past the noise.
“It’s midnight and you have to be on set in seven hours,” her best friend, Fiona, reminded her. “You’re the star, so yes. Get your ass over there and pull a diva.”
Trish stopped cold.
“But I’m not a diva!”
“Of course not, but you know that’s what his groupies will think, which you do not care about. Right?”
“Right.” She nodded curtly, but she did care. She cared a lot, and Fiona knew that about her. She’d worked hard to keep a professional reputation clear of any diva attitude or impressions, and she didn’t want to blow it for a self-centered rock star making his film debut.
Fiona groaned, and Trish heard her friend’s fiancé, Jake Braden, say, “Give me the phone.”
“Do not give him the phone.” Trish paced again. She adored Jake. Not only was he an amazing stuntman, but he treated her bestie like a princess. But Jake, like each of Trish’s five brothers, had the protective alpha thing down pat, which meant he’d want to take care of this for her.
“Like I have a choice?” Fiona giggled, and Trish heard them struggling over the phone.
“Trish?” Jake’s tone made her name sound like a command she should salute.
Trish Ryder saluted no man. “No, it’s Mary Poppins.”
“Okay. Well, listen, Mary,” Jake said without missing a beat. “March your pretty little ass over there and tell the guy to straighten up. If he gives you any crap, call me back, and I’ll come to the set and knock some sense into him.”
Of course you will. “Thanks, Jake, but I can handle it. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to stir up trouble. He’s already messed up so badly, the whole crew knows the film’s on thin ice.”
“Even more of a reason for you to set him straight,” Jake said. “You don’t have to be a bitch. Just be your normal, confident self. He’d have to be a real dick not to rectify the situation.”
She sighed, and heard Jake pass the phone back to Fiona. Maybe they were right. She was a well-respected actress, and this was Boone’s first film. Maybe he simply wasn’t up to speed on film-set etiquette. Obviously, since in the span of a few weeks he’d missed the preproduction meeting, showed up late to the set, and screwed up too many scenes to count.
“I’m back. You okay?” Fiona asked.
“Yes. No. I don’t know, but I’m going over. You guys are right. If I’m awake all night, I’ll be the one messing up tomorrow, and I don’t need the director upset with me.”
After Trish ended the call, she set her phone down beside a copy of Rolling Stone magazine. A picture of Boone, shirtless, graced the cover. She’d read the article. She’d read every article about Boone taking on the role in No Strings, and they all said the same thing. Boone Stryker is everything fantasies are made of: warm brown eyes that say “help me,” “do me and you’ll never forget me,” body ink indicative of a troubled soul, and an insurmountable dedication to his craft.
They left out self-centered asshole with no respect for anyone but himself. And based on his behavior, she wasn’t even sure he had that.
Well, guess what? It’s time to grow up.
Her phone vibrated with a call from her eldest brother, Duke. She groaned. Damn it, Jake. You’ve got a big freaking mouth. Sometimes being a little sister sucked—even at almost thirty years old. She let the call go to voicemail. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with her overprotective eldest brother who was ten years her senior. When would he learn that having ovaries didn’t mean she needed looking after?
She stormed out of her trailer, assaulted by the sounds of rock and roll coming from across the lot. Groups of scantily clad women and shirtless men, smoking and drinking, created a buffer between Boone’s trailer and the rest of the world. Trish stood and watched for a moment, trying to spot Boone among the mass of swaying bodies. She couldn’t imagine living with groupies around all the time. It was no wonder he showed up late and was never prepared. How could anyone deal with this and concentrate on anything?
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin, squaring her shoulders like she wasn’t nervous at all. She was an actress. She could do this, and Jake was right. There was no need to be a bitch. She’d act calm and cool, and hopefully Boone would respond reasonably. Cool. Yeah, right. She didn’t usually have trouble with confrontations, but the badass rocker struck chords she’d never had tweaked before, and he did it with little more than a glance, which was horribly embarrassing. She couldn’t deny the rush of heat that consumed her every time their eyes connected. Unfortunately, as hot as their chemistry was off set, when she and Boone were acting, he became cold, like he didn’t want to feel the heat. In an effort to keep the situation from becoming even more uncomfortable, she’d kept her distance when they were off set. She hated that this would be their first real interaction. But that was on him, she decided, and set out across the lot, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.
The smell of cigarettes, weed, sweat, and sex hung heavily in the air. She pulled her arms in close, turning sideways to fit between less-than-accommodating people, and weaved through the drunken mob toward his trailer. She scanned the crowd for Boone, trying to ignore the way men and women were eyeing her up. She was used to being looked at, and she wasn’t generally judgmental, but the groupie vibe and raunchy smell made her feel like she needed a shower. Stat!
“Hey, babe,” a long-haired guy said as she squeezed between him and a busty brunette.
She forced a smile and pushed past, making a beeline for the trailer door. It seemed ridiculous to knock, given the scene she’d just waded through, but she knocked anyway. No one answered. She knocked again, louder, and when no one answered, she tried the knob. Locked. Perfect. The asshole was probably passed out naked with a harem of women. An icy chill rushed down her spine. Yuck. She pushed her way back through the crowd, determined to give him hell tomorrow, regardless of how it affected the movie. This was bullshit. How could he sleep with all that racket?
“Trish?”
She startled at the sound of Boone’s voice coming from the direction of the parking lot and spun around. He had the most sensual voice she’d ever heard. It didn’t matter if he was singing or acting, it affected her every time. It was deep and rich, and somehow rough, demanding both attention and intimacy. She tried to steady her racing heart with a few deep breaths as she drank him in. He held his guitar case in one hand and sported a half-cocked smile. He had beautiful full lips, and despite everything, the mere sight of his perfectly bowed mouth made hers water. His faded T-shirt clung to every muscle in his insanely defined chest. Lust chased frustration up her body. She had the inside scoop on his selfishness and still she wanted to fell him like a tree and devour him limb by perfect limb.
She swallowed a puddle of drool, drew her shoulders back again, and set a hand on her hip, hoping to mask her attraction. His smile turned smug, and his eyes lit with a spark of intel that made her gut twist. Bastard.
“Did I wake you?” She might not have been able to mask her attraction, but every word she spoke was laden with sarcasm.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, as if he were bored with the conversation. Or maybe with life.
“Wake me?” he said with an arched brow. “I just got here.”
She glanced at the crowd and pointed to her ears, indicating the blaring music there was no way he could miss, and glared at him. “You just let your groupies run wild like this while you’re not even around?”
He strode toward her, his piercing dark eyes sucking her right into his vortex. He stopped when they were toe to toe, filling the air with his confident arrogance and making it hard to breathe, much less concentrate.
“I had no idea they were partying. I’ll shut it down. But for the record, no. I don’t let my groupies run wild.” His gaze roved over her face, and she narrowed her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see the way every sweep sent waves of heat to all her best parts. “You went over there?”
“Some of us take this movie seriously. I can’t prepare with that noise going on all night.”
Boone raked his eyes down her body, causing her to nearly combust. A sinful smile curved his lips as his eyes began a slow stroll north, over her hips, lingering on her brea
sts, and bringing her traitorous nipples to attention, greeting him like a long-lost lover.
“Pretty woman like you shouldn’t scowl so much.” His rich voice slid over her skin like a caress, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
God, she hated herself right now.
Unwilling to give him the upper hand, she flashed a haughty smirk and returned his assessment with a lecherous leer of her own, drinking in every inch of his athletic build, from his bulging biceps to the ripped abs evident beneath his clingy shirt, all the way to the formidable package at the juncture of his powerful thighs. She lingered there, brazenly licking her lips.
He leaned in close—so close she thought he might kiss her. And damn it to hell, she wanted him to. Lust and challenge pulsed between them, thick and alive like a third heart. She shifted her eyes away and noticed a gorgeous platinum blonde standing in the shadows behind him. Embarrassment and something that felt far too similar to the claws of jealousy dug into her.
Her eyes shot to Boone, but before she could say a word, he said, “I’ll take care of the noise,” and stalked away with an arm around the blonde.
—To continue reading—
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Excerpt: CRUSHING ON LOVE (The Bradens)
Fall in love with the Shannon & Steve!
STEVE JOHNSON TOOK off his sweaty shirt and guzzled a bottle of water. Nothing beat a predawn run, especially after a shitty night’s sleep. He set the empty bottle and shirt on the steps leading to his rustic log cabin and crossed the yard to the chopping post, determined to work the remaining tension from his body. A six-mile run on the rough terrain of the Colorado Mountains should have worked out all his piss and vinegar, but not this morning.