Broken.
Her spirit felt that way too. She'd thought Tad Kersley's actions had stomped on her confidence, but Ren's rejection of her love had done something different. He hadn't messed with her sense of self (funny, falling in love, reciprocated or not, had demonstrated being rock royalty did not mean she was emotionally stunted as she'd always thought, which was a good thing), but realizing she'd lost her other half made her more lonely than ever.
She glanced down at the new tattoo, as tender as she felt inside.
Maybe she'd love again, she thought, trying to cheer herself up. Now that she knew she could, it was something to strive toward.
A strange scraping sound caused her to frown. Narrowing her gaze, she stared out the window again, trying to determine the source of the noise. When it wasn't immediately apparent, she pressed her hips against the window sill and leaned out the opening.
Nothing.
Then movement below caught her eye. Not below on the ground, but below on the wall.
Her breath caught in her throat and she bent farther at the waist. "Ren! What are you doing?"
Not that she couldn't tell. Not that she couldn't see, in the wash of light directed against the outside of the Castle, that Renford Colson was climbing the rough-hewn bricks. He glanced up at her, his toes wedged in a deep crevice, his fingers gripping another. "Climbing up to you, Rapunzel."
She gaped at him, her heart beating like mad. "You're crazy. Get down. Get down at once!"
He was panting a little. "Safer moving up, baby. Though I'm sure you wouldn't be too unhappy if I land on my head."
"Stop being ridiculous. You broke your arm doing this once."
"Cheated this time," he said, on the move again. "Payne and I dragged out an extension ladder. Got me up a good twenty feet."
Cilla rolled her eyes, even as her heart continued its accelerated rhythm. "Oh, well, then."
It took hours (in real time, possibly minutes) before he was at the window. Cilla moved back as the top of his head reached the sill. Then he was staring at her, his fingers grasping the bottom of the window, his feet presumably braced on something stable.
The fairy lights didn't soften the angles of his cheekbones and jaw, but there was a gentleness in his gaze that made her belly tighten.
She licked her lips. "What are you doing?"
"Coming for my Rapunzel," he said.
Her fingers gripped each other at her waist. "I don't understand."
"I remember Gwen reading you the story."
"A fairy tale."
"Yeah." He studied her face as if looking for something important there.
"The prince falls, you know." She took another step back. "In some versions, the witch pushes him to the thorns below."
His brows rose. "Is that what you want to do to me? I wouldn't blame you."
She shook her head, because she couldn't trust her voice. All she wanted was for this to be over. But he continued staring at her so she had to say something, anything, to get him on his way before the tears that were hot behind her eyes spilled onto her cheeks.
"It's okay, Ren. I get maybe you're feeling bad for what happened between us, but it's okay. I'm okay." Or she would be, she told herself. Some day when she found a way to forget about him.
"He goes blind," Ren said.
Cilla blinked. "What?"
"The prince. Rapunzel's prince. I remember the story too. After he falls or is pushed, he's blinded by the thorns and only regains his sight when he rediscovers the beautiful woman he loves."
"Okay." What was this all about? "Now that you've proven your grasp of—"
"But that's not the way it went for us."
Cilla didn't know how much longer she could hold back the tears. "Ren, you should go. Climb over the window sill, go down the stairs, go back to London."
He did part of that, hoisting himself up with his arms (she cursed herself for noticing the power of those muscles) so one long leg and then the other could step onto the floor. She took a few more paces back, until her shoulder blades met one corner of the small room.
Ren stalked closer, then stopped a few feet from her. His long hair was disheveled, there was tension in his jaw, and a strange light in his gaze.
Her belly clenched again and she felt that inexorable, sexual pull. His charisma calling to something inside of her. Trying to ignore it, she closed her eyes.
"I was blind before I fell in love with you," Ren said, his voice low. "Not after."
Her eyes popped open. He'd come another step closer and now his hand reached out and his palm cupped her cheek. She flinched at the delicious goodness of it and he frowned.
"Have I hurt you that much?" he asked.
"I don't know what's going on," Cilla whispered.
His thumb stroked her face, spreading dampness so she knew a tear had escaped after all. "I couldn't see myself loving anyone. Being with anyone. Having a future that was filled with love and family."
"Ren—"
"Then you showed me how it could be. You showed me how sweet are the ties that I thought would never be for me. You made me want them. Fiercely."
This was a dream. She'd fallen asleep in the tower room and this was wish fulfillment. Still, Cilla couldn't help herself from placing her palm over the hand on her face. "You feel real," she told him.
His smile curved his wonderful lips. "I am real, baby. This is real. What I feel for you is real."
No. "You told me you'd never forgive me."
"Because I'm an ass. Because at that moment you'd made me want something I was afraid I could never have."
"See? You don't want my love."
His free hand tucked her hair behind her ear. "You're the first person to offer it to me in a long time...maybe ever. I didn't know what to do with it."
She rolled her eyes. "Plenty of women have been willing to offer you love, Ren. I'm pretty sure of that."
"Maybe." He leaned down, touching his forehead to hers. "But there has been only one woman who made me want to offer it back. My love, my heart, my life. Everything."
The words weren't making sense. "Everything?"
"All I've got, baby."
Fear suddenly cooled her blood and slowed her heartbeat to a funeral knell. Once they'd gone, nobody had ever come back for her and she didn't think she could trust any of this. Trust Ren. "No," she said, shaking her head and trying to slide away from his touch. "This will hurt too much if it doesn't go right. You should leave. I should leave."
Ren's hands moved to cup her shoulders. "Neither of us is going anywhere. At least not without each other."
"It won't work." She looked up at him, desperate. "How could it possibly work?"
"Because I'll make it work," Ren said, his gaze confident, his touch gentle. "That's what I do. I fix things. I make them come out right."
Another tear rolled down her cheek. "Are you trying to tell me you can create happy endings?"
He smiled down at her. "For you and me, guaranteed."
Her years of loneliness still resisted the promise. "Ren..."
Looking about the room, one of his hands slid down to grasp hers. Then he pulled her toward the opposite corner, in front of the freestanding mirror. Their images were reflected in the glass. Ren, dark-haired, and muscled. Cilla, looking wide-eyed and unsure of herself.
"What do you see?" he whispered, his mouth against her temple, stirring her hair.
The most beautiful man she'd ever imagined. "I don't know."
"Look lower, baby." His fingers squeezed hers.
Her gaze traveled down and snagged on their tattoos. With their hands entwined, the dark designs kissed at the bottom and then again, forming a perfect heart. "They match up," she whispered.
"Like we do," Ren said. "Two halves of a whole."
Cilla's resistance melted. Her walls fell. The last of her self-protection conquered by the certainty in her lover's voice.
She turned to him. "You love me," she said.
"God, s
o much."
"You love me," she said again, thrilling at the words.
"Forever," he promised.
Then he sealed the vow by drawing her close for a heated, claiming kiss.
As they pressed together, heart-to-heart, guitar notes floated through the compound. Ren's head lifted and Cilla stared into his eyes that were filled with passion and tenderness. The song Cami was playing (it had to be Cami) seemed to twine around them. Cilla knew it instantly. It was steeped in Laurel Canyon lore, about a house not far from them.
It had been written in the early years of the Canyon's musical history, before the Velvet Lemons had arrived and long before their nine collected children had come on the scene to live their odd and often solitary childhoods.
Maybe that was changing, Cilla thought.
She believed, finally, that her life had.
Her palm cupped Ren's beloved face, so long in her dreams and now the star of her future.
"You see how it's going to be for us?" he asked, his voice husky, his gaze searching her face. "How it's going to be beautiful?"
"Yes," she whispered. In the distance, Cami played the chorus of the song and Cilla whispered to Ren, paraphrasing the lyrics. "Everything will be easy 'cause of you."
The End
Dear Reader:
Ren and Cilla captured my heart and I hoped they touched yours too! Light My Fire is the first installment in the Rock Royalty series and there's more to come. A visit to the beautiful and infamous Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles planted the seed for the stories that will follow the lives and loves of the Velvet Lemon kids. Each one will have the sunny sexiness you expect in a Christie Ridgway book...along with those tender moments of souls beginning to believe in happy-ever-afters. As always, I do my best to make you smile—and maybe tear up just a little too.
Interested in sharing your thoughts with other readers? I hope you leave a review for the book.
The next book in the series, Love Her Madly, is Alexa and Bing's (yes, Bing!) story and will be available soon. To not miss out on its release and to get other information about upcoming books, sign up for my newsletter. You can also follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or visit my website.
Below, find some excerpts to a few of my other titles and links to buy books you may have missed.
Enjoy!
Christie Ridgway
Coming this fall…Rock Royalty Book 2! Love Her Madly by Christie Ridgway
Years ago, Rolling Stone magazine dubbed the nine collective children of the most famous band in the world “Rock Royalty.” Now all grown up, the princes and princesses are coming back to L.A.’s Laurel Canyon to discover if love can be found among the ruins of a childhood steeped in sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.
“Bad twin” Bing Maddox has wanted his brother’s BFF Alexa Alessio for months, but he's stayed away because she’s too hearts-and-family for his jaded soul. Ever since a good deed turned to a dark regret, he’s buried his guilt in a series of forgettable flings with women who wanted nothing more. But when delicious Alexa needs a plus one to some upcoming wedding events, he gives in to his urges and goes all out in pursuit of getting her into his bed.
Alexa Alessio doesn’t know how it happened—one moment she was being smart and keeping herself separate from seen-everything, done-everything, wildly sexy Bing Maddox and the next she was agreeing he could be her date. Sure she wants back-up when her cousin marries Alexa’s own stolen ex, but Bing’s made it clear he wants her on her back. Her heart says yes—but her common sense tells her it might be the very thing broken when commitment-phobic Bing moves on. She can have him, but can she hold him?
Chapter 1
The fascinators were the final straw.
Alexa Alessio’s fingers curled into fists just thinking of the miniature hats as she marched out her back door and practically leaped over the waist-high fence to her neighbor’s rear yard. Her strides ate up the well-trimmed lawn and she let herself into the kitchen, her temper as hot as dragon fire.
The door shut with a near-silent snick behind her and she forced herself to a halt, even though every impulse demanded she return to the family bridal shop and do damage to her spoiled, sneaky, thieving cousin. But Alexa was the calm cousin, the super-serene Alessio, and she was here to get control before she did something completely out of character.
Feel to the marrow. Love like there’s no tomorrow. Those lines, painted on the wall of the bridal salon, were the family motto. Alexa had always considered the words dangerous ones to live by and did her best to keep her moods and emotions on an even keel. Common sense and past disappointments predicted that white-hot passion could only lead to getting burned.
But today she’d been sorely tried, which was why venting to her best friend seemed a good plan. So here she was, in Brody’s kitchen, and she was going to let off steam in hopes that this boiling rage would finally cool.
The man was standing with his back to her, examining the contents of his refrigerator. She opened her mouth to speak—okay, spew—but then it closed and she blinked, for the first time in an hour seeing beyond red.
Brody wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Of course, as her running partner, she often saw him half-naked. But this time, with him in a pair of royal blue nylon shorts and nothing else but his Nikes, he…
She knew he had a great body. At six-two and whatever poundage was required to have broad shoulders, a strong back, lean waist, and well-developed arms and legs, he was virility wrapped in golden flesh. This was nothing new to her.
Except… This little flutter in her belly was new. The weird tingle at her hairline was new. She’d never looked at Brody and realized her tongue was tied and her blood was running too fast and her skin was prickling beneath her clothes.
That response was reserved for—never mind.
It had to be temper.
It was time to tamp it down.
Half-turning, she stalked to one of the windows and stopped by the round, two-top table positioned there. “If I lose it, will you post bail?”
“What? Alexa?”
She must have startled him. “Sorry, I thought you heard me come in,” she said, staring out the window at the sky. Wasn’t blue supposed to be a calming color? “It’s Drea.”
“Ah.”
“She’s gone so far as to pinch the design for my fascinators.” Her ire flashed hot again and her fingernails dug into her palms.
“Uh…”
Brody wouldn’t know a fascinator if it bit him on his fine ass. “They’re little hats,” she explained. “I was sixteen years old when I planned my wedding and I sketched exactly what I wanted for the bridal party. Now she’s taken my old drawing and insists Nona make them up for her and the bridesmaids.”
“Sixteen?”
“Yeah, well, the family’s in the wedding gown business, right? Of course I was designing clothes for the event before I’d even been allowed on a date.” Outside, a mockingbird swooped, the white of its underwings reminding her of the feathers her grandmother would use on the bride’s hat. Her back teeth ground together.
“Didn’t anyone point out…?”
“That those were my idea? Of course not. Drea can do no wrong, you know that.” A year before, her cousin had spent three months in the hospital, battling an infection that had nearly taken her life. “Even though she’s completely well now, not a single person in the family will stand up to her.”
Alexa rubbed her forehead. Of course she was glad her cousin was healthy again. But Drea had been self-centered before her illness and her near-death experience hadn’t made her any more angelic.
“Lex. Is this really about—”
“No.” She shook her head, not wanting to go there. “Maybe if I wasn’t in the bridal party, I could ignore all this. But Drea just had to have all the Alessio girl cousins as her bridesmaids. Mama and Nona couldn’t fathom why I’d think of refusing.”
“Lex—”
“And I didn’t want to refuse. I can’t not
do it. I have some pride, you know.”
“Got that.”
Alexa closed her eyes. “How am I going to do it?” It was a whine, and she hated whiners, but if any situation ever called for it… “What if I…I lose it and start screaming in the church?”
“Over a hat?”
He knew it was more than a hat. “Did I tell you the color of my bridesmaid dress is citrine?” It was more than the color, too.
“Don’t know citrine.”
She opened her eyes. “A greeny-yellow,” she said, gazing out at the side yard in search of an example. “I’ll look like an under-ripe lemon.” Her voice lowered. “To go with my sour mood.”
“Lex…” There might have been an undertone of sympathy in his voice.
“Don’t pity me,” she warned. “I won’t be crying at the altar. I’ll be steaming mad.”
“Should someone talk to—”
“No one can talk to anybody about this. I don’t want a single person besides you and me to know I’m upset in the slightest.” Wouldn’t that be humiliating?
“Whatever you say.”
All along, her plan had been to attend the event unescorted. That way, she could escape from the reception ASAP. But now she was having second thoughts. She still didn’t want a date date, but a buddy, a pal, a confidant who could be relied upon to yank her back from the brink of disaster…or from doing damage to the woman wearing a white fascinator…
“You’ve got to go with me,” she said in a rush. “To all the stupid pre-events and on the big day itself. Just to make sure I don’t do harm to myself or…or others.”
“Maybe Nico needs a solid punch in the face,” her best friend muttered.
Alexa’s stomach pitched. Nico. “It’s not about him.” That she’d gone away one weekend, engaged to the Italian Stallion that was the man of her family’s dreams only to come home to find her fiancé had hooked up with her cousin and that they were already talking of marriage…
It wasn’t about losing him at all, at least not anymore. It was about losing face.
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