Her Secret Life

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Bo had called again the night before. She wanted to tell Michael about that, too, but it was all kind of connected to the sex situation, and she was not going to push.

  “You still want to talk?”

  She was not going to push. She was not going to push. She was not going to push.

  She nodded. Trying for nonchalant. Which was why her feet were still up on his desk even though one of them was falling asleep. She was an actress. She knew which pose said what.

  “Okay.” He clasped his hands, let them drop, still clasped, in front of him. The skin on his jaw tightened. She noticed it more on the scarred side. Probably because she liked that side better.

  “Here’s what I’ve got...”

  She was breathing. But it wasn’t an easy task.

  “If we do this, and it’s still an if, we agree on boundaries—and I mean really agree, as in we both find them necessary—and we make certain that we do not cross them.”

  She nodded. Bring them on, she thought. But she wasn’t pushing.

  She also wasn’t the least bit nervous. She didn’t feel like crossing her arms over her chest as she’d done the entire time she’d been on the phone with Bo the night before.

  Being with the women in her class, she felt like she wasn’t alone. Being with Michael was just plain good.

  “So...what would you give us as boundaries?”

  Wait. She’d planned to agree with whatever he needed. And abide by it. Implicitly.

  Feet on the floor, she stood, too. Walked two steps to the back wall of the little room and then returned to place her hands on the back of her chair.

  This was important. She had to focus. To think. To be aware.

  “We’re best friends first,” she said, loving how that sounded. He’d been the first one to say it. She was still feeling the glow from hearing him refer to her as his best friend earlier. Ranking her right up there with his sisters.

  “Agreed.”

  “Now you. What would you give us as boundaries?”

  “That we keep this completely between the two of us. No sex at my house, where Willie is. Or at Lacey’s house. Or in a car in Santa Raquel.”

  “So we only have sex at my condo.”

  “Or...in a motel room outside Santa Raquel.”

  There was a place not far from Little’s. A reputable name-brand chain right off the freeway. “Agreed.”

  Was that it then?

  “Now you.”

  Apparently not. She thought about it. Really thought about it.

  “Honesty,” she said. “We have to be honest with each other even if it hurts.”

  “Agreed.”

  Whew. She was okay at this. “Now you.”

  “No pretending that there’s a future in it,” he said.

  She looked at him. Who did that? Who cut out any chance of a future?

  “We can’t predict the future, Michael.”

  “We love each other,” he said. “As friends. We aren’t in love.”

  “I’m not even sure ‘in love’ exists,” she told him. By her estimation, couples who made it ten years were considered miracles. At least in their generation. Society wasn’t like it had been when her parents had married. “So I can go with that part. But no future? What if we like having sex, Michael? What if we want to do it next year, too, and the year after that?”

  “This is where it gets tricky, Kace. Because you and I live in different worlds. We both know that. If I had to have too many nights like Wednesday...”

  “You don’t,” she blurted. She wasn’t going to lose him over an awards dinner. She’d go alone. Or not go. Not to all of them, at least. But she could see what he meant. There were benefits, parties, televised daytime-TV award shows.

  “My home, my business is here. I’m happy in Santa Raquel. Your life is in Beverly Hills. You enjoy visiting here, but you love your life, Kace. You love Beverly Hills.”

  Maybe he could love parts of it, too. If he gave it a chance...

  And she knew what she was doing. Pushing. And it was wrong.

  Her spirits plummeted. He was right. Of course. Their lives were polar opposites. And she’d known that all along.

  “The privacy of our relationship is part of what makes it work,” she said now.

  “Yes.”

  “So can we amend the boundary?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Let’s say that we accept that we live separate lives, that we don’t expect the other to change and that we remain lovers for as long as it suits us both.”

  “You want to get married, have a family.”

  “Yes.”

  “So do I.”

  It was the first time he’d ever said so.

  And the thought of having Michael’s babies...oh, man...she got warm down below just thinking about it.

  But she was Beverly Hills. She’d want to show her children off. And he was Santa Raquel. He not only valued his privacy—he needed it.

  “I guess we need something about other potential lovers in our lives,” she said, hating the words even as they came out.

  “I definitely have an exclusivity boundary,” he said. “As soon as you meet someone that you want to sleep with, you let me know and we’re done. That whole honesty thing. I mean that, Kacey—it would be a friendship breaker if you slept with someone else while you and I were having sex.”

  Wow. Who thought a burst of happiness could attack her like that again? Like she was as whole and carefree as she’d been before the attack.

  “Agreed. And back at you,” she said.

  “So...I guess the whole get-married-and-have-kids thing...when one of us meets that person, that’s when we stop having sex.”

  “Or a potential someone,” she added.

  His face cleared. No more frown lines. No piercing looks. “Okay.”

  What? Frickin’ what!

  “So...” She lowered her head, but looked up at him. “Does this mean we’re going to have sex?”

  “I guess it does.” He didn’t even crack a smile.

  She did.

  “Woo-hoo!” And, throwing her arms around his neck, she planted a hot and wet one on those glorious lips, perfectly happy if the arms that wrapped around her never let her go.

  * * *

  MIKE NEEDED A PLAN. Raising his lips from Kacey’s while he could still think, he shook his head when she went for him again.

  She’d have her time.

  And she’d see that he knew full well how to please her, too.

  But he had to go. Had to get Willie.

  He couldn’t just run off to have sex. And he couldn’t walk around with a constant hard-on. He had a little brother in a critical state between success and failure, leaning toward success. And he had work to do. A business to run or risk letting it run away from him. And photos to watch for.

  His brother had spent one successful night at home. Could Mike risk another? And if he couldn’t, was Willie really on any road to recovery?

  Not another school night, though. Mike wanted to be constant in his taxi service. He wanted Willie to know that he’d have to see his big brother after school every morning and every afternoon at the Stand. He wanted to be there in case Willie had something to talk about. “How about tomorrow night?” With his arms still around her waist, his enlarged penis pushing purposefully up against her, he put it out there without fully processing ramifications. But the next night after tomorrow night was Sunday night—a school night—and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask himself to walk around for another whole week feeling like he did.

  Or risk putting Kacey off, either. It was clear to him that, for now, she needed this. He was her safety tour back to life. And when she had her life back, he’d back out. Until
then, he wasn’t going to slow her progress.

  The sooner she healed, the sooner they’d return to normal. Or she would. He’d never return to the man he’d been before she’d burst into his life. And he didn’t think he’d ever regret that, either.

  Losing her might sting a bit—but not so much if they remained friends. And that would most likely be up to him. When she made exit signs, he’d make the going easy. That should ensure him visits from her now and then. Purely platonic visits.

  She’d be a permanent light in his life.

  “Tomorrow?” Her question, filled with surprise, might have been off-putting if she hadn’t also been clinging to his neck and grinning from ear to ear.

  “Have you already told Lacey you were staying until Sunday?”

  “No.”

  He wanted to know why but didn’t have time to ask.

  “So, your place...tomorrow night?”

  “All night?”

  “I’m sorry, Kace, but it’s going to take that long. At least the first time. Maybe later, when we’re...well...maybe later we can meet for quickies, but not this first time.”

  She was still smiling, but the tenor changed. Instead of looking eager and young, she looked all woman to him. Strong, confident, needy woman. Tears filled her eyes.

  “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Michael.”

  He took the words in stride. They were recovery words. And he had her back.

  He kissed her. Covering her lips with his. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, caressing hers. He held her close. Trembled inside, where it really counted.

  And he thanked whatever fates had sent her his way.

  * * *

  “BO’S TELLING EVERYONE that he broke up with me.” Kacey looked at her twin, wishing she could tell her how dramatically her life was about to change. Wishing she could let Lacey know that she really thought she might be all right. But she’d promised Michael.

  No one else would know.

  She’d been so intent on giving him his boundaries that she’d forgotten about Lacey. It wasn’t like she ever sat around and thought about her sister during sex talk anyway.

  “You seem okay with it,” Lacey said.

  They were sitting in Lacey’s Arizona room, sharing a cup of tea, watching Jem and Levi practicing catch out in the yard. The little boy was going to have his first game the next weekend. Kacey had promised him she’d be there. Pinky promised, even.

  The kid didn’t know yet that she wouldn’t miss it for the world. But he’d catch on. She was going to be a person those who loved her could count on. Period.

  “I am okay with it,” she said now. “I just... He goes to put his arms around me and I just...” She shuddered.

  Lacey’s frown would have bothered her if she hadn’t been feeling so damned good. “You know that’s just because of the...what happened.”

  She might have thought so. But she wasn’t frigid.

  Not that she could tell Bo that. He’d demand to know how she knew. And she couldn’t tell her sister, either.

  She shook her head. “I...actually...we haven’t slept together in a few months.”

  Lacey’s brows rose. “But you just agreed to meet his family. You were thinking about giving him a key.”

  Unexpected as hell, tears filled Kacey’s eyes. “I wanted what you have,” she said. And knew right then, for the first time, that she very well might never have it. Because she wanted it with Michael and couldn’t see any likelihood of that ever happening.

  “Oh, Kace.” Lacey ran soft fingers down her face and as she’d done so many times in the past. Kacey turned her lips into her sister’s palm and kissed it. “You’ll find your Jem,” she said. “And when you do, you’ll—”

  Lacey broke off. Teared up.

  And Kacey pulled back. Completely out of herself and focused on her sister. Lacey wasn’t a crier or prone to drama, either. That was all Kacey’s bailiwick.

  “I’m sorry,” Lacey said. “I’m just... It’s...”

  “You and Jem?” Kacey could feel the horror seeping all the way through her. “You aren’t having... Oh, Lacey, you just have to be patient with him. He was a victim for so long...he’s bound to have rel—”

  Lacey was shaking her head, smiling, but still looking so stricken.

  “What?”

  Was Jem sick? Something bad?

  “We’re having a baby, Kace. I’m pregnant! I just did the test this morning. And I’m hormonal and being an idiot and here you are wanting what I have and now I’m telling you I have even more and I’m so sorry...”

  Kacey put a finger on her twin’s lips. “Don’t you ever, ever be sorry for being happy, Lacey. Not ever. All those years I took my happiness at your expense. I owe you a lifetime...”

  And then she grinned and filled up with tears, too. “You’re pregnant?” she squealed. “I’m going to be an aunt?” She looked out at little Levi, and had to add, “Again?” Because though Levi wasn’t Lacey’s biologically, he was definitely a child of their hearts.

  Lacey nodded.

  Jem glanced in. And Kacey understood.

  He’d given the two of them this time alone. “I just didn’t want you to feel left out, or like you’re all alone,” Lacey was saying.

  Kacey hated not being able to tell her that she’d never felt less alone in her life. She had her sister. And she had Michael, too.

  “I’ll never feel left out where you’re concerned,” she said now, tending to Lacey. Because in Kacey’s new world, Lacey came before she did. “What you feel, I feel, you know that.”

  Lacey nodded. “Right now I’m feeling pretty happy.”

  “And scared, too,” Kacey said softly, tuned in.

  Lacey nodded. “So much can go wrong,” she said. And then added, “But we’ll get through it all together, won’t we?”

  Life had changed for them when Lacey fell for Jem. They didn’t tell each other every single thing anymore. But they still felt each other. “You know we will,” Kacey said.

  It wasn’t a platitude.

  It was a promise.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  MIKE ARRIVED IN Beverly Hills, at Kacey’s door, right on time, carrying the box she’d left—which had contained, among other things, a key card to her private parking area and a key to her door—under his arm.

  The keys were great. Better than great. He just hadn’t felt they’d ever be denied him if he needed them. Kacey had given him access to her most intimate thoughts. Her home, while pretty incredible, would never have that much value. But it was the kids’ craft kit that interested him the most.

  That and the letter on top.

  Michael,

  As much as I crave your body on top of mine, more than anything on earth, I crave you. Your spirit, your soul, in my life for the rest of my days. You are my best friend. And if I have to choose between sex and your friendship—I choose friendship every time. Your handprint has been engraved on my heart forever and always...

  He didn’t knock. He used his key.

  And felt grossly dressed up for the occasion in his black jeans and black-and-white button-down shirt. Thank God his cuffs were rolled up. At least they went better with the more casual look she’d chosen.

  In gray sweats and bare feet, a colorful T-shirt with Daytimers Do It Best emblazoned across the front, she was standing at the dining room window looking out to a gorgeous sunset over the mountains. The table was covered in plastic and set only with a big plastic bowl, a water pitcher and a wooden spoon.

  “We’re setting our hands together in stone before we do anything else,” she told him.

  And he grinned.

  “What would you have done if I hadn’t brought the kit?”

  “I knew you wo
uld.”

  He’d never considered leaving it behind. It had been in his car, waiting, since she’d left his office the previous morning, telling him to open the box as she walked out the door.

  Some other guy might get to put his ring on Kacey’s finger, but Mike was getting her whole hand. Forever.

  * * *

  KACEY KNEW HOW to play the seductress, but she didn’t know how to be one. Not that anyone except Lacey knew, but she’d only ever had two lovers. Once, several years before, she’d thought herself totally in love with a guy who’d sailed a boat to California to take her on a date. And because she wanted a home and family like Lacey... Bo.

  Still, Michael would have expectations. What man didn’t have fantasies about having sex with a gorgeous actress? Few actually got to play them out for real. She didn’t want to disappoint him.

  With their handprints drying on the dining room table, she stood with him at the double kitchen sink, washing the excess clay off with lanolin, careful to preserve the gel nails she was never without. And hoped he didn’t notice that her hands were shaking.

  Standing so close to him, she could feel his heat. And was incredibly nervous.

  Not about having him touch her, though. She couldn’t wait for that. She craved it in a way she’d never ever felt before.

  She was scared as hell that she wouldn’t be enough, so she did what she did best. She pushed herself brazenly forward.

  The scene was fully laid out in her mind. Hands clean, she opened the refrigerator, as though trying to figure out what she should pull out.

  And instead, she pulled off her top. Underneath was a brand-new piece of black lace, purchased that afternoon from a well-known Beverly Hills lingerie store. It covered her nipples but still left them exposed to his view. The cold from the refrigerator was meant to bring them to peaks.

  Strangely, she didn’t need it. They were already there. Filing that observation away for closer examination at a future point, she pulled out the bottle of wine she’d also purchased that afternoon and the plate with chocolate Hershey bars and marshmallows.