“I run the family business.”
“Which is?’
“We’re involved in a variety of investments. A little bit of everything. Whether I like it or not.”
The last few words are murmured almost more to himself than her. She nods, knowing what it’s like when things don’t turn out the way you expect. “People probably think you have it easy. How lucky you are to have this company handed to you. They don’t know how hard you work, or that it might not be what you want to do with your life.”
“I’ve spent most of my life proving myself for something I didn’t even want. Now, I’ve earned their respect, but it’s dangerous in my world to get complacent.”
“What is your world, Nick?”
“It’s a long story.” He glances in the rear view and does a double-take before shaking his head. She looks too, catching a black sedan turning off the road behind them. Nothing unusual, except for his worried expression. “Now it's my turn to hear all about you.”
Intrigued by the sparse details he shares about his life, she studies his profile, trying to understand his sudden tension. Although he seems to be hiding something, she doesn’t feel afraid. “Similar story. No brothers or sisters. My mom died about a year ago.” A lump forms in her throat, and she takes a deep breath to keep it from turning into a sob. “I never knew my father. He left before my mom even knew she was pregnant. I’m by myself, except for my best friend Carrie and a few close friends like Jason.”
Glancing over at her, he raises his eyebrows. “And new friends like me.”
She winks at him, conveying a nonchalance she doesn't feel. His impact on her is more than he can imagine. “We’ll see.”
When they get to their exit, she gives him directions to the restaurant. She braids her hair then puts on a pink sun hat with a white sash and black sunglasses from her bag. The only way to keep them from getting mobbed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she catches him watching her. “Why the sudden cover up? I like your outfit, but you looked great the way you were.”
They pull into a parking space, and he comes around to help her down. Once the pain in her back subsides, she takes a deep breath and starts her confession, “I haven't been completely honest with you about who I am.”
He leans his head down to hers as they walk. “Who are you?”
Humor entwines his question, perhaps thinking she’s playing a practical joke. They reach the hostess stand before she can answer. “Good evening. Would you prefer inside or outside?”
Nick nods to her, letting her choose. “Outside, please.”
They wind through the restaurant, following the woman to a table close to the edge of the patio. Pleasure surges in her heart when Nick pulls out her chair. Carrie’s grandma always says good manners are the sign of a good man.
“Your server is Ryan, and he'll be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.”
Nick turns to her and lowers his voice. "Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?"
Her gaze drops to her hands, her fingertips rubbing over the glittery pink polish. “I’m Shae Armstrong. I’m a singer, and I’ve done a little bit of acting…small roles in two movies.”
She looks up to find him staring at her with a frown. “You mean like Madonna or something?”
“Well, I’m a little bit younger than her, but yes.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he starts to say something and stops. She can’t quite read his expression, but guesses he thinks she’s crazy. “I swear I’m telling the truth. Your family business is keeping you out of the loop. You’ve heard of Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry, right?”
Nick smiles as the waiter comes up to take their drink orders. He turns to Shae first.
“May I have sparkling water with an orange slice, please?”
“And you, sir?”
“I’ll have water too. No orange slice.”
She laughs at his modified order. “Too girly for you?”
“I'm guessing it’s your signature drink. I don’t want to be a copycat.”
He opens his menu and looks through it while she enjoys the view, a welcome peace flowing over her. The blue-green waves almost match the cushions on their chairs. The breeze lifts the corners of the white tablecloth and threatens the dancing flame in the silver candleholder.
As the waiter departs with their food order, Nick glances down at his buzzing phone. “I’m sorry. I really have to take this. Excuse me.” He walks a few feet down the sidewalk separating the restaurant from the beach. Pacing back and forth, he runs his hand through his hair, the rise and fall of his voice floating on the wind. By the time he returns, their meals are being delivered. “I’m sorry my call took so long. There’s always a fire needing to be put out.”
"It's okay. I hope everything is all right."
"Yeah, it's fine. Let's eat." He smiles before digging into his food.
She moans after taking a big bite of her fish taco, the mixture of cilantro and lime making her tongue tingle. “I had forgotten how good these are. Thank you for bringing me here.”
Nick nods, his mouth too full to answer. After he swallows, he leans back in his chair and smiles. “You’re welcome. I think I’ve found my new favorite.”
“I told you they were good.”
As they finish eating, he leans forward. “The sun has almost set. You can take off your sunglasses.”
Her stomach drops. The end of their perfect evening. One night where she got to be herself, without bodyguards or paparazzi or handlers. The masquerade over, she pulls off the glasses and lays them on the table.
“Better. Now I get to see the real you.”
The waiter returns with their bill and does a double-take, his eyes widening as he stares at her. “I didn’t realize it was you. I’m a huge fan. It’s been an honor waiting on you.”
Her professional persona takes over, and she smiles to match his excitement. “Thank you. The food was delicious.”
Murmurs float around the restaurant, and a young couple steps outside to look, nudging each other as they whisper. Several people take her picture. A little girl about six years old comes up and asks her for her autograph. A genuine grin crosses her lips as she leans down close to her favorite kind of fan. “Of course! What’s your name?”
“Emily.”
“What a cute name. Here you go. When you get back to your table, give this card to your mom and dad, okay? It was nice to meet you, Emily.”
The girl beams as she runs to show her parents. They hug her and wave at Shae. She nods and waves back.
Nick stands up and lays a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Are you ready to go?”
Her butterflies return as he takes her hand and gives it a slight squeeze. At the Jeep, he helps her up before climbing in on the other side. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I am from the beginning. Sometimes it makes things weird, and I didn’t want that to happen.”
“I understand. But I know it's just your job, not who you are.” He smiles, eliminating some of her uncertainty. “You know, you were terrific with that little girl. What was on the card?”
“It has a number they can call to get free tickets to my next concert. I love surprising people. It’s fun to see them excited.”
“Yeah, I think you made their day.”
They drive along in silence. Her body relaxes now that he knows the truth and doesn’t seem fazed by it. She tries to hold it back, but a little yawn escapes.
“So, it was a concert that kept you up late last night? I bet you are tired.”
“A little bit, but I’m okay.”
“Well then, do you want to come back to my house for a drink? I’m not ready for the night to end just yet.”
Even though she isn’t cold, a small shiver runs through her body at the thought of them being alone together at his home. “Okay, one drink, but nothing more.”
Chapter Two
Nick turns into a curved driveway leading to a lavish estate protected by a wro
ught iron security gate and ten-foot stone wall. All of her worries about him using her for money or a record deal fly out of her head like the breeze through the Jeep. He could launch his own label with the kind of money he must have. A flutter of hope flickers in her heart. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time she can be herself.
He passes the guard house, nodding at the camera, and parks by the dark walnut front door. Textured stone and arched windows accent the camel-colored brick. Raised flower beds edging the stone driveway soften the starkness of the mansion, providing bursts of pink, yellow, blue, and lilac intermixed with lush green plants.
The heat from his hands wrapped around her waist burns through the thin fabric of her dress as he helps her down. They linger for a moment, holding onto each other, with their bodies separated like two kids at their first school dance. Yet the electricity crackling between her fingers and his biceps is anything but childish. Her heart pounds at his deep breath. He feels it too.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
One hand slides to her lower back, and he leads her up the steps and into the house. Overstuffed chairs and leather sofas fill the living room, facing an enormous stone fireplace. The space overlooks a sleek and modern kitchen, the counter covered with stacks of worn cookbooks, a large bowl of fresh fruit, and a platter of homemade treats covered by a loose sheet of wax paper. Her stomach growls at the rich scent of vanilla and brown sugar, and she twirls her hair around her finger to keep from snatching a cookie off the plate.
She concentrates on the curls looping over his collar as they walk outside to a stone patio spanning the entire length of the house. A figure-eight pool with a waterfall spa in its center fills the open space, with a recessed fire pit surrounded by benches occupying the other end. She shakes her head at the visions of roasted marshmallows and melting chocolate popping into her mind.
They stop next to a double chaise lounge facing the water. Her breath catches from him smiling down at her. “This is my favorite spot. I thought you might like it too.”
“I love it.” She steps forward and leans against the railing, the waves rolling into the sand. “This is the best time of day to be at the beach. When the heat is gone and the sky is so colorful. I could stay here forever.”
“Open invitation—as long as you want, whenever you want.” Shivers trail her spine at the huskiness of his voice, making her turn around. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Yes, please.”
After he goes back into the house, she sits on the chaise and takes a deep breath, inhaling the salty taste of the ocean air. Tilting her face upward, she welcomes the delicate breeze on her skin. As luxurious as his home is, it doesn’t bring her the same peace as being outside in the burgeoning moonlight.
At the creak of the French doors, she turns to him, accepting the wine glass from his outstretched hand. “Thank you.” Her heart skips a beat when he sits down next to her holding a small tumbler of dark brown liquid. She takes a small sip. With a tendency to drink reds, the crisp, fruity white is an unexpected pleasure. Kind of like this entire evening.
“Do you like your wine?”
“It’s wonderful. You have good taste.” Nodding toward his glass, she wrinkles her nose. “I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”
“Whiskey is an acquired taste. But it has a nice, calming effect after a long day.” He clinks his glass against hers and takes a drink, his eyes never leaving hers. Heat rises up her cheeks at his intensity, forcing her to look away. “So, you aren’t offended I didn’t know who you were until you told me?”
His subtle frown greets her as she turns back to him. She can’t let him off the hook just yet. “No, not at all. I’m just going to have to fire my publicist. She told me if I hired her, everyone in America would know who I am.” Pressing her lips together, she tries to maintain her poker face. But his growing smile overwhelms her, and she can't hold back.
“You should cut her some slack. I’m sure I’m the only one who doesn’t know who you are. I work so much, I’m out of the loop, remember?”
“What is your family business, exactly? You can’t own a beautiful home like this walking dogs.”
His deep, belly laugh is contagious, making her chuckle too. "I’m an investor. My partners and I acquire struggling businesses with strong potential, turn them around, and cash out when they’re successful.”
“So, how do you have time to bake cookies if you're always working?”
“Ah, the infamous sweet tooth rears its ugly head.” Goose bumps rise on her skin from him leaning closer, his arm brushing against her wrist. “Marta, my housekeeper, made them. She's always tempting us with her goodies.”
Her stomach gives a little lurch. Maybe she let down her guard too soon. “Us?”
Raising an eyebrow at her, he winks. “Some of my staff like sweets too.”
“Good. I was worried you might be hiding a girlfriend or wife from me.”
“No, I’m single. For now, anyway.”
She should be offended by his arrogance, but can’t bring herself to be. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s falling under his spell. Hard and fast, if she’s honest with herself.
“Tell me what it’s like to be a rock star. I’ve lived in L.A. all my life and never met one before.”
She shakes her head and holds up a finger. It’s not right for him to think she’s more than she really is. “Not a rock star. A pop star. There’s a difference.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t play an instrument or write my own music. I’m just lucky to have been blessed with a good voice and happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
Her skin tingles where he strokes her finger before gently pushing it down. “You don’t have to be modest. You wouldn’t be famous if you didn’t have something special.”
“Only luck. Otherwise, I’d be walking the dogs.”
Before he can respond, his phone buzzes. Unlike at the restaurant, he ignores it, focusing all his attention on her. A rare feeling to have someone’s genuine interest rather than the fawning and head patting she receives from Team Shae. “I doubt that.”
She winks before nodding at the vibrations rustling the cushion between them. “I think someone’s trying to get a hold of you.”
The door opens and a tall man with close-cropped black hair walks out. His muscles bulge even through the white dress shirt and black suit coat. Yet his gentle eyes and the small smile he gives her soften the tough-guy physique. He gestures to Nick. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we have a situation. Carter’s here and needs to talk to you.”
Nick sighs and shakes his head before standing. “Tell him I’ll be right there.” Turning back to her, he frowns. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She nods before taking a sip of wine and setting the glass on the side table. Two emergencies in two hours on a Sunday night. No wonder all he does is work. There’s no time for anything or anyone else. Especially not a woman he just met with a crazy life of her own. One who knows how foolish it is to let her heart absorb any more of his tender affection before she falls completely. And has to walk away.
Listening to the relaxing sounds of the crashing waves, she leans her head against the cushion. She’ll have him take her home as soon as he comes back.
* * * *
Irritated by the interruption, Nick runs his fingers through his hair as he walks toward the lounge chair. He leaves her twice in one date. Not a great way to start off…whatever this is. He may not know what to call it, but he sure doesn’t want to mess it up. “I’m sorry, Shae. It’s…”
She’s curled onto her side, arms hugging herself, eyes closed. He sits the plate of cookies next to the half-full wine glass and takes the opportunity to study her. Aching to push back the strand of wavy, dark hair that’s fallen over her face and caress her cheek, he shoves his hands into his pockets. The softness
of her expression exudes a peace he envies. She’s sweet and playful, yet holds something back. Just when he thinks they’ve made a connection, timidity creeps in, creating a shield around her. Perhaps from whoever’s hurting her.
After picking up his glass, he sits down in the chair across from her. Her pink dress fully covers her body, from the hollow of her throat to the tops of her knees, with only her sculpted arms and lower legs visible. How can she be so modest and so sexy at the same time?
Yet, his stomach turns from what he can’t see—the damage inflicted on her creamy, soft skin. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and her dad’s not in the picture. Who the hell could it be? He takes a long drink. Once he finds out, she won’t have to worry about him anymore.
His mind drifts to her earlier comment. God, how he would love ‘more’ with her. To taste her pink lips. To lose himself in her gentle touch. To feel her body pressed against his. Inhaling deeply, he tries to cool the heat rising in his body.
Long, dark lashes flutter against her cheeks before her eyes fly open and she gasps. His stomach knots at her panic. Resisting the urge to take her in his arms and soothe her fear, he kneels down on the floor next to the chaise. “Hey, it’s okay. You fell asleep. Everything’s okay.”
She turns to him, searching his face for reassurance. Her body relaxes when her eyes meet his, overwhelming him with the trust she places in him not to be afraid. She drops her head, tucking the wayward hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I guess I'm more tired than I realized.”
“Don’t apologize. I know you had a big night last night.” He wraps his fingers around hers and helps her up, his pulse racing when she doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your car.”
In the garage, he opens the door to the Audi. “I thought this might be easier than climbing into the Jeep.”
Her face lights up with the huge smile he’s waited all night to see. “Thank you.”
She seems pleased, maybe even a little surprised, by his simple gesture. He can’t stand the thought of someone making her do anything but smile. Before she can climb in, he pushes the door shut. “Wait.” He takes a deep breath, trying to control his fury. “This is probably the wrong way to go about it, but I have to know. Who’s hurting you?”
Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1) Page 3