Chased by Love (Love in Bloom: The Ryders): Trish Ryder

by Melissa Foster

  “The guy’s an idiot, but it doesn’t mean I have to be. I set him straight. That’s enough.” He kissed her cheek as he pushed open the restaurant door, and camera flashes lit up the night.

  Boone kept her tucked tightly against his side as the cameras flashed and reporters showered them with questions.

  “Are you two dating?” a reporter asked.

  “Yes,” Boone said with a proud smile that made Trish’s heart race.

  “How long have you two been an item?” another reporter asked.

  “Long enough to know it’s real,” Boone answered smoothly.

  “Boone, does this mean you’re off the market?”

  Boone gazed into Trish’s eyes and said, “Absolutely.”

  “Trish, are you going to quit acting and travel with the band?”

  “Do you have plans for future movies together?”

  Between the bright flashes, the barrage of questions, and Boone whispering in her ear, “See, beautiful, we’ve got this,” Trish couldn’t form a single answer. Thankfully, as they pushed through the crowd, Boone took care of it for both of them.

  “She’d never let her fans down by quitting,” Boone assured them. “And we need to get through our first movie before we can think about doing more together. But I’d gladly work on any project with Trish.”

  “Trish, why Boone?” a female reporter asked.

  Boone raised his brows, giving her the floor. She gazed into his loving eyes and her heart thundered. She didn’t want to overthink her answer or give the most professional or appropriate answer. She wanted to tell the world what she really thought of her man.

  “Because he’s the kindest, most sincere, loyal, and loving man I’ve ever met.” She wound her arms around his neck, and with a half dozen cameras aimed at them, she pressed her lips to his. And when he dipped her like the famous V-J Day Times Square kiss, she held on for the ride.

  **

  A SENSE OF freedom and pride filled Boone as he and Trish signed autographs, passing smiles to each other as they did. Trish’s eyes beamed with happiness. Who would have thought that something as small as admitting to being in a relationship could make two people so happy?

  He reached for Trish’s hand and said to the crowd, “Thank you all so much for your support, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a walk with my gorgeous girlfriend.”

  They headed down the small-town street trailed by shouts of gratitude and, thankfully, no followers. Eventually the din of the fans gave way to the quiet of two lovers’ footfalls on concrete.

  “And so it begins,” Trish said, sliding her arm around Boone’s waist and snuggling in closer. “Tomorrow should be interesting.” She gazed up at him with a curious look in her eyes. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “Let’s see…In about fifteen minutes websites will start buzzing, and rumors will spread faster than weeds. Tomorrow morning we’ll be on the front page of gossip magazines, and shows like TMZ will be chatting us up. Headlines will ponder what famed and talented good-girl Trish Ryder is doing with bad-boy womanizing Boone Stryker. Our PR reps will wonder what hit them, and on set everyone will be watching me and Jared to see if we flip out.” He cocked his head. “Does that sound about right?”

  “You left out the best part. Tomorrow morning we’ll wake up in each other’s arms, and until we turn on our phones or the crew arrives, we’ll still be in this happy little bubble.”

  “You’re right. That is the best part.” He waved his hand at the quaint street, where no two buildings were the same. “And right now we’re in Small-Town, USA, taking an evening stroll. Without cameras, without fans or the crew, or anyone else to scrutinize us. More than anything, what I want is to just be us for a little while, without worrying about what will happen tomorrow.”

  “I’m all for that.”

  They came to Main Street Music. Like several other shops on the street, the building looked like a house, rather than a store. The lower half was tan brick, with large picture windows, and the upper half was covered in white siding and hung three or four feet farther out than the brick, creating a natural cover from the elements.

  “This reminds me of a music shop back home. Want to sit for a minute?” Boone smiled with the memory of sitting out front of the local music store with his friends when he was younger. “We used to sit on the steps and play our guitars, and people would stop by to listen. It was nice.”

  “Do you ever miss the simplicity of not being a star?”

  “Yeah, all the time. But I don’t pay as much attention to the crap that comes with fame, so it probably doesn’t bother me as much as it does other people.” He draped an arm over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Actually, that’s not true. It bothers the hell out of me now that we’re together. But before us?” He shrugged.

  “When I visit my parents, I love the simplicity of just being Trish. I live my life the way I want to for the most part, and I don’t worry about dressing a certain way, as you saw by my airport attire. But there’s something wonderful about visiting my hometown and knowing the people who knew me as Trish, the Ryder boys’ baby sister, don’t expect me to be someone else.”

  “Hometowns are the great equalizer. It’s easy to get an inflated ego when you’re surrounded by people who make a buck off of you and build you up all the time and fans who are in awe over your fame and the person they think you are.”

  His mind traveled down all the usual paths when he thought of home—family, friends, Harvey, Epson, and finally circled back and settled on his father. “When I was a kid, I used to follow my dad around the house when he fixed things. He was a mechanic, and he could fix just about anything. We’d be fixing the furnace, or repairing a leak under the sink, and I’d try to learn from what he was doing and focus on his storytelling at the same time. I can still hear his voice and see him lying on his back beneath the bathroom sink, working as he spoke. He had the type of voice you wanted to snuggle into: calm, steady, with a rough pitch to it. God, baby. I really miss him.”

  Trish put her head on his shoulder and held his hand. He loved that she knew when to push and when to give him silent support.

  “He used to say it was easy to look like a diamond on a sunny day, but it’s how you act on the darkest days that matters.”

  “There’s so much truth to that statement, isn’t there?” Trish asked.

  “Yeah. I wish so badly that he could meet you.” He pressed his lips to her temple and closed his eyes, sending a silent sentiment up to his father. I miss you, Dad, and I hope I do you proud.

  He opened his eyes and breathed deeply. “If that’s the measure of a person’s true inner spirit, then my parents deserve the highest accolades. Their lives weren’t easy. Their parents basically disowned them when my mom got pregnant, but they didn’t give up on each other. They found ways to make it on their own. I hope I can be half the man my father was.”

  Trish’s expression turned serious. “You’re so much more than that.”

  The door to Main Street Music opened, and they both turned. A guy with longish brown hair, wearing cargo shorts but no shirt, with a guitar strapped to his back, was locking the door. He turned and his brows drew together.

  “Oh, hey. How’s it going?” The guy pulled his guitar strap off and sank down to the steps next to Boone with a warm smile. He had a dark tan, which surely didn’t come from working in a music store. “I’m Carey. Helping my buddy out with his store this week.”

  Before Boone could say anything, Carey did a double take and said, “Boone Stryker. Rad, man. I heard you were in town.” He leaned forward looking around Boone at Trish. “And you’re the actress. Man, this is my lucky night.”

  “Trish Ryder. Nice to meet you,” Trish said sweetly. “I hope you don’t mind that we’re sitting here.”

  “No, babe, it’s cool.” Carey began playing his guitar. “I’m not used to things shutting down so early. It’s nice to have people to hang with.”

 
Boone listened to him play for a minute, his fingers itching to strum as well. “You’re good. Do you play in a band?”

  “Nah. But my buddies have a band back home and I play with them when they practice.” He held the guitar out to Boone. “Wanna jam?” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder and rose to his feet. “I’ll grab another guitar.”

  “Do it,” Trish urged. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Sure.” Boone took the guitar from Carey. “Thanks.”

  “Cool.” Carey went into the shop, retrieved another guitar, and sat beside Boone again.

  “Where’s home?” Trish asked.

  “Cape Cod,” he said. “This shop belongs to my buddy Drake Savage. He and a few of our other buddies bought a resort on the bay in Wellfleet. Drake’s up there fixing up the resort and opening another shop, which is why I’m here helping out until the manager comes back from vacay.”

  “My brother Blue lives on the Cape,” Trish said. “Blue Ryder. Maybe you know him?”

  “Dude!” Carey laughed. “Everyone knows Blue. You must know Leanna Bray? Um, Remington now. Married Kurt Remington, the novelist. Man, I love his thrillers. Leanna’s a good friend of mine. We both have space at the Wellfleet Flea Market every summer.”

  “Here, baby, switch places with me.” Boone moved to Trish’s other side so she could chat with Carey about their mutual friends.

  Boone quietly played the guitar as the two of them caught up. Not for the first time, he recognized Trish’s adoration for her brothers in the light in her eyes and the joyful tone of her voice as they talked about them. Carey played his guitar on and off as they talked, and when their conversation came to a natural lull, Boone and Carey played together. They hung out for a long while, and before heading back to the farmhouse, they exchanged phone numbers and promised to try to connect at the Cape sometime soon.

  Later that night, Boone and Trish lay in bed with Sparky curled between them.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as relaxed as you were tonight with Carey,” Trish said with a sleepy smile.

  Boone kissed Sparky’s belly and moved him beside the pillows, then pulled Trish closer. “I’m sure it had a lot to do with how easygoing he was, but truthfully, it also had to do with the fact that I don’t feel like we’re hiding anymore. And I have to admit it felt good to say something to Jared and to stop acting like we don’t hear the gossip. I’m not a kid, Trish. I’m a thirty-year-old man who has no place in his life for that kind of nonsense. But I am worried about how the fallout will affect you. So I need you to know, I’m here for you. You can lean on me. I want it all. The laughter, the tears, the frustration. Whatever you feel, I want to know so I can enjoy it with you, or help fix it. And as far as my past goes, I’ll handle it in whatever way we both think makes sense.”

  She pressed her lips to his and sighed. “I’ve been holding you back, haven’t I?”

  “Holding me back? You’ve set me free.”

  “No, I mean from being the badass boyfriend you want to be.” Her eyes lit up with the tease.

  “Maybe a little, but I get it. There’s a proper way to act in your workplace. And then there are assholes, like Jared, and ‘proper’ needs to be kicked under the carpet for a little while.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But I didn’t go all caveman on his ass. I think I was pretty restrained.”

  “And hot. Don’t forget hot.” She scooted even closer, bringing their bodies together. Her breath whispered over his lips. “I don’t think we need to address comments about your past. I think we should let our relationship stand for itself.” She reached over him and clutched his butt.

  Boone swept her beneath him and nipped at her lower lip. “And what do you think they’ll see?”

  “Something beautiful and sexy that can handle anything that comes its way.”

  “I sure hope so, baby, because I can’t imagine not having you by my side.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Or in my bed.” He laced their hands together and held them beside her head. “I’m falling so hard for you, Trish. Can you feel it? Can you feel how much I care for you? Can you feel the way my heart goes crazy when we’re together? Can you feel how much of me you already own?”

  “Yes,” left her lips like a secret, and he sealed that secret with a kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  TRISH AWOKE AT five o’clock the next morning to the delicious scents of cinnamon and coffee and to an empty bed. She pulled on a T-shirt and padded downstairs. Boone sat in the kitchen with the phone pressed to his ear and the kitten cuddled against his bare chest. In the center of the table was a plate of cinnamon rolls, fresh steam curling in the air above them. Trish’s mouth watered at the sight. She was counting down the days until she could eat real food again.

  Boone smiled and mouthed, Mags, then patted his thigh for her to join him.

  She loved how he always wanted her close. She walked around the table and saw he was wearing only his boxer briefs and waggled her brows. She reached for the kitten and he pulled her down to his lap with a sly grin.

  “I talked to Benny and Harvey an hour ago,” he said into the phone. “The rehab center wants me to wait to talk to Jude in person, so I’ll go see him when we’re done filming.” He smiled and said to Trish, “Mags said hi and that she sent you a text at three in the morning, too.” Boone pointed to her phone on the kitchen counter, where he’d set it last night when they got home.

  “Hi, Mags,” she said loudly enough for his sister to hear. She got up and turned on her phone. It went off like a vibrator on speed as messages poured in. While Boone said goodbye to Mags, Trish scrolled through them, wondering if everyone in the world had stayed up all night reading online gossip.

  She reached for a cinnamon bun and Boone set his phone on the table and laughed.

  “That bad?” He pulled her onto his lap again and kissed her.

  “It’s five in the morning, you baked, and I have about twenty messages from my family. At five in the morning!” She bit into the cinnamon roll and closed her eyes. “Mm. It’s like an orgasm for my taste buds.”

  He chuckled and kissed her. “Mm. You’re like an orgasm for my taste buds.”

  She set the delicious pastry on the plate and wiped her hands on a napkin. “You were too nervous to sleep?”

  “Just restless. I wanted to have a talk with Benny and Harvey, so they know what to expect and how things are going to change publicity-wise. I got a few emails from my PR rep and told him not to make any statements, as we discussed. And Mags said she was up all night working on new recipes and saw a clip of us on an entertainment channel. She said we looked adorable and happy.”

  “We are adorable and happy.” She kissed him again. Her phone vibrated and she sighed. “Ugh. If I’m going to make it to the set on time, I’d better get started answering messages.”

  She moved to her own chair and Boone pushed her plate in front of her.

  “Thanks, but I can’t finish it. I only have a few more days of filming. I can’t start putting on the pounds yet.”

  His eyes went serious. “I worry about you. Last night you hardly ate at all. Can I at least make you egg whites?”

  “Yes, thank you. I love how you worry about me, but this not eating is short-lived. As soon as I’m done filming, I’m digging in to a juicy cheeseburger. I told you I love to eat.” She leaned in and kissed him again, and she wanted to kiss him again and again and again, but her phone vibrated with another text, reminding her of how much she had to do. “You might not like me as much ten pounds heavier.”

  “Baby, I’d like you no matter how big or slim you are. It’s who you are that I’m attracted to. Your looks might have lured me in, but it’s who you are—your generosity, strength, intelligence, that hooked me hard.” He brushed his lips over hers and whispered, “Oh, and the great sex helps.”

  Laughing, she smacked his arm.

  “In all seriousness, I hope you know, even if you could never have sex again and you gained a hundred pounds, I’d sti
ll be totally into you.” He got up to make her eggs.

  “Not me. I’d kick you to the curb,” she teased. “So you’d better keep doing whatever it takes to maintain that hot body of yours.”

  “Lots of sex, beautiful. Lots of sex.”

  She laughed.

  Trish answered some of her messages as she ate. Fiona sent her a high-five emoticon, with a side note from Jake that said he was glad he didn’t have to kill Boone, because he liked his music. Shea was on board with not responding to comments and said she was a little jealous, given how hot and talented Boone was. She even thought Boone’s tougher image might give the public pause about how goody-two-shoes Trish really was. They both saw advantages to that, given that Trish was hardly a goody-two-shoes, even though she was careful about who she dated.

  She showered and dressed before answering her family’s messages. As she descended the stairs, she spotted Boone in the living room playing his guitar. What a sight he was, cradling the guitar so naturally it looked like an extension of himself. Like when you hold me. I feel like that, too. Every few beats he’d jot something down in his notebook.

  She took a picture with her cell phone, so she would always have it on hand. She knew they were only playing house here on the set, and her heart ached at the prospect of returning to their real lives. She realized she didn’t even know where Boone lived or what his practice schedule with his band was like. How much did he travel? What was his real life like?

  Boone looked up from his notebook and caught her staring. “Hey, beautiful. We only have a few minutes before the crew arrives.” He patted the seat beside him.

  “A few minutes? I need to call my family.” She hurried down the stairs and sat beside him. “Group Skype, here we come.”

  “Okay,” he said curiously.

  “Twenty-two messages from them now, Boone. Five brothers and my parents. You have no idea what they’re like. Sometimes I think Duke forgets I’m an adult. He means well, but he worries.”

  Boone slid a hand to the nape of her neck and drew her closer. Her body went warm as she melted against him. The feeling had become so familiar, she’d come to expect it. Understanding and compassion hovered in his eyes.