The Hollywood Tales: Brandon Books 1-4

by Audra Cole

  As if reading my thoughts, Brandon stands and pulls me up from the bench. “Sorry to dump all of that on you. I guess you probably need to get the little troublemaker home.”

  He snaps in Maci’s direction and she leaps up to run to his side. He pets her head and scratches her ears.

  I smile at the way Maci is relishing the attention.

  “Yeah, probably should clean her up a little too,” I say. “What about you? Are you going to go back to your parents?”

  He shakes his head. “No, they’re going over to my aunt and uncle’s house for the rest of the night. They have some game night thing they do. My brothers are with them too. They invited me to go, but I said I’d wait and come back over tomorrow. It just feels weird how they can go on like nothing is happening.”

  “Well, they’ve had more time to adjust to the news. And I imagine, in some way, it helps to continue to live a normal life,” I say.

  Brandon nods. “I guess. I don’t know. I’ll probably get some dinner and go back to my room at the inn. Maybe catch up on the news. Is Little Ricky’s still open?” He asks, referring to a hole in the wall Italian place that we used to go to in the next town over.

  The image of him sitting alone in a hotel room, with a plastic container of cold spaghetti, watching the nightly news is more than I can handle. “You can’t go to Little Ricky’s. Do you want to come over to my place? I can make us something.”

  The invitation seems to surprise him just as much as it surprises me.

  “Really? That would be amazing,” he says. He lights up and gives me a smile that both warms and breaks my heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  Walking back to Ashley’s, my main mission is to just keep it together and not have a panic attack. Breathe in. Breathe out. There. Simple, right?

  In. Out. Right.

  Brandon has the leash, and Maci is trotting along after him, quite contentedly. I smile at her, wishing I could feel as relaxed as she looks. I probably look like I’m fine, but everything inside me is like a wind-up jack-in-the-box that could spring at any time.

  An awkward silence has settled between us as we walk. I figure he doesn’t want to talk about his mom, and I don’t want to talk about us.

  “So, uh, do you like living in California?” I ask. “Must seem pretty gloomy being back here with the cold and all.”

  “It’s okay. I think some things are better than I expected, and then other things are worse than expected. It’s nice to be back here though. I’ve missed it, for a lot of different reasons.” He turns his face to meet my gaze, and although I am trying not to read into each word, there is no mistaking what he means by that comment.

  I can feel myself start to blush. Unsure of how to respond, I turn my eyes back to watching the ground in front of me.

  We walk in silence for another few minutes before we arrive at Ashley’s house. Her car is not in the driveway. I breathe a sigh of relief that she’s not here to find Brandon and me together.

  “All right, let me take her in and get her cleaned up a little. Then we can go to my place.” I reach to take Maci from him. “It’s not too far from here.”

  Brandon gives me the leash, brushing my fingertips in the process. I almost recoil at his touch, feeling like I had been shocked. Waves of heat ran through my body and I force myself to back up a step.

  “Do you want a hand?” he asks

  I shake my head. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Okay, then I guess I’ll stay here,” he says, taking a seat on the front steps.

  I nod in agreement and turn to go inside. I shut the front door behind me and lean back against it, letting out a pent-up sigh. “Get it together, McAdams,” I whisper to myself.

  I shake it off and roll my shoulders back before starting to wipe at Maci with the doggy towel Ashley leaves by the front door. Most of the mud is dried on her fur, so there’s not a lot I can remove with the dry towel. With another sigh I decide I’ll need to give her a bath if I want to get her completely cleaned up. I glace at my watch and then nervously look back at the front door. In all reality, Ashley could be home at any minute, and I can only imagine her reaction if she finds Brandon on her front steps.

  I really would hate to call the cops on my best friend.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Ashley. She answers on the third ring.

  “Hey Charity, what’s up?”

  “Hey, I just got back from the park with Maci. We had a little mishap and she needs a bath. I just…uh…wanted to see where you keep the doggy shampoo.” I improvise.

  “Tell me it isn’t skunk! I cannot deal with that again!” she says.

  “No, no, nothing quite that heinous,” I assure her, wrinkling my nose as I remember the skunk fiasco from a couple of years ago. “Just a little muddy.”

  “Thank God! That shampoo should be in the cupboard under the sink in the bathroom. Did you already look there?” Ashley asks.

  “No, not yet. We just got back.”

  “Okay, well it should be there, if not, try the laundry room.”

  “So, are you still in the city?” I prompt.

  “No, I’m heading home.” She sighs. “Traffic was a little crazy but I’m on the highway now. I should be back in the next twenty minutes or so. If you want to wait, I can help you with Maci. She can be a bit of a pain when it comes to bath time.”

  “Oh, no!” I exclaim, a little too loudly. “No, I don’t need help. I’ll have her all done before you get back. In fact, you should stop and get a coffee on your way. You’ve had a long day, and it sounds like you’ll have a long night ahead of you.” I fumble as I start to pull at Maci’s collar to drag her upstairs to the bathroom, and end up dropping my phone. There is a loud bang as it hits the floor.

  “Shit!” I yelp, grabbing it back up to my ear again.

  “Charity, are you okay? What’s going on?” Ashley asks, sounding alarmed.

  “I’m fine,” I insist. “Just dropped the phone.”

  The front door opens behind me and Maci starts barking and rips out of my grip. The nylon collar burns my hand as it pulls through and I gasp at the pain, holding back another scream.

  “Ash, I gotta go, I’ll see ya later!” I yell before shutting off the phone and stuffing it back in my pocket.

  “Charity, what is going on in here? Are you all right?” Brandon calls from the entryway.

  “Yes, everything is fine. I was just trying to hurry, and dropped my phone.”

  “Do you want help?” His expression is something between amusement and concern. I’m sure I make quite the picture. Still mostly covered in dried up mud, my hair is probably all kinds of crazy, and I’m sitting on my knees on the floor, cradling my injured hand while the possessed dog runs around barking at the top of her little doggie lungs.

  All I can do is nod. It’s all becoming a bit more than I can handle, and I feel tears starting to well up in my eyes. This frustrates me even more, because I am normally this super-composed person who, at least, appears to have her life together. Since seeing Brandon at the airport, I have transformed into this clumsy mess that can’t do anything without causing complete chaos.

  He comes close and squats down next to me. “What happened here?” He asks, taking my injured hand, gently into his own.

  “It’s nothing,” I say, not willing to meet his eyes. “It’ll be fine, just stings for a second.”

  He takes my good hand and pulls me up from my kneeling position. “Tell me what we need to do.”

  “The mud isn’t coming off her fur, so I need to rinse her off in the tub. Ashley said the doggy shampoo is upstairs in the bathroom.”

  “Okay.”

  A few minutes later we have managed to get Maci upstairs and into the tub. She did not go willingly. Ashley wasn’t kidding when she said she could be bit of a pain.

  Major understatement.

  Brandon turns the water on and starts to rinse her off, while I dig around in the cupboards for the shampoo.

&
nbsp; Housekeeping and organization are not two of Ashley’s strong suits. Just going through the cupboards and drawers is making me itch to take over her house for a couple of days and get everything sorted.

  I finally give up and tell Brandon I’m going to go check downstairs. After checking what feels like a hundred other places I eventually find the soap under the kitchen sink—not a place Ashley even told me to check!—and run back up the stairs. I round the corner into the bathroom and my breath catches. Brandon has discarded his white T-shirt and is leaning over the edge of the tub with his tan and sculpted back on full display.

  Please help me. Someone? Anyone?

  He was always in shape when we were dating and engaged, but as an action movie star he has obviously taken his training to the next level. I stand silently and watch him work. His tanned skin is flawless. Watching his back and shoulder muscles sends a shiver—nope, make that, lightning bolt—down my spine, and my body temperature feels like it has risen at least ten degrees in the last five seconds.

  I force myself to tear my eyes away and step forward to hand him the bottle of shampoo. After he takes the bottle, I back up a few steps, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. Brandon seems completely oblivious to the effect he is having on me, as I try to catch my breath. He is too hot, too perfect looking, and too close to me.

  As soon as Brandon lets go of her collar to get some shampoo, Maci starts to make a break for it. I squeal and block her path and within the span of a few seconds Brandon has her hauled back in the tub.

  “We got a runner! Cherry, you’re gonna have to hold her collar,” he says with a laugh.

  I nod and reluctantly sink to the floor next to Brandon, trying very hard to keep my eyes on the dog, and away from his perfect abs. But, my eyes keep sneaking a peek over at his defined stomach, taut and flat, with chiseled indents around his perfectly sectioned abs. I almost lose it over the and the v-line at his hips that is peeking above his low-riding jeans. A line that I could follow with my tongue, all the way down…

  Holy crap! Focus!

  It only takes a few minutes to scrub and give her a final rinse. Brandon rubs her down with a towel before we release her, laughing as she runs out of the bathroom like she has just been set free from jail.

  We clean out the tub and wipe down the counter and mirror, not quite sure how wet dog hair ended up there in the first place. I turn back to gather the pile of wet towels and bump into Brandon. I move to step away and go around him but he puts a hand on my waist and steps closer. His face is just inches from mine and getting closer.

  My lips part to offer some sort or protest, but his lips meet mine before I get out a single word. I lift an arm to push him away, but as he deepens the kiss, I reach up to hold the side of his face and pull him closer instead. My other arm wraps around his waist and the feel of his warm skin melts the last remaining shreds of my resolve.

  He pushes me backwards until I hit the edge of the counter and then he effortlessly lifts me up to sit on the edge, holding me steady with one arm wrapped firmly around me. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist and draw him closer. He groans and lowers his mouth to kiss his way down my neck, as his free hand gets tangled in my hair. I drop my head back and exhale sharply as his kisses send another jolt of electricity through my body. I arch back as he reaches for the edge of my T-shirt, sliding his hand along the sensitive skin of my stomach.

  He has my shirt raised just about over my head when Maci starts to bark again and the front door slams shut. Ashley’s voice calls up the stairs, “Charity! I’m back. Are you still here?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Holy shit!” I jerk away from Brandon at the sound of Ashley’s arrival and struggle to pull my shirt back on and smooth out the edges. I put a hand on Brandon’s chest and push him backwards. “We have to go! Now! Ashley can’t find us…like this.” I gesture between us. “You might have gathered earlier, but she’s not exactly your number one fan right now.”

  He growls in irritation but follows my direction and hurries to pull his T-shirt back on.

  How tragic. I think, momentarily mourning the loss of the spectacular view.

  I rack my brain, trying to figure out how to get Brandon out of here without Ashley seeing him. “Okay, listen, I’m going to go out there and distract her. You sneak downstairs and get outside. I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes.” I hurriedly direct him.

  “We’re not in high school anymore, Cherry,” he reminds me.

  “Brandon, please,” I say. He finally nods in agreement, seeming to understand.

  I suck in a deep breath. What am I doing? I ask myself, silently.

  “Hey, Ash, I’m just finishing up here, be down in a sec,” I call from the hallway. I gather the wet towels and take them down the stairs with me, leaving the door open for Brandon.

  Ashley is still by the front door, scratching Maci’s wet tummy. She looks up when she hears me coming down the stairs and gasps, “What in the world happened?”

  “Your dog dragged me into the pond, that’s what happened,” I say. “It’s a good thing she’s so cute.” I laugh as Maci rolls around on her back, lavishing the attention.

  “I’m really sorry, Charity. You didn’t have to wash her. I would have done it.” She straightens and reaches for the load of used towels. I hand them to her and follow her through the kitchen and into the laundry room. She puts everything in the machine and starts the cycle. “I would ask if you wanted to go get dinner, but I guess you need to get home and take a shower,” she says.

  “Yeah, that and don’t you have a big project you need to do?”

  She laughs. “Well, yes, but you know me. I thrive under pressure!”

  “Show me what you’re working on,” I say, thinking that will buy enough time to let Brandon slip outside.

  We pass through the kitchen and back to the living room where she has set down her shopping bags. It’s mostly supplies, so it doesn’t take too long to sift through it all but I’m sure it was long enough.

  “I better get going,” I say, once she has put the bags away.

  “Yeah, you smell,” she says.

  “Gee, thanks. What would I do without my sympathetic bestie?” I say.

  “That’s why you love me. I’ll tell you what jeans do make your ass look big and when you have lipstick on your teeth.”

  We both laugh, knowing it’s true. Our friendship is greatly enhanced by brutal honesty.

  I turn to leave. “Don’t forget your coat,” she says.

  “My coat?”

  “On the front porch, there’s a black coat. Isn’t it yours?” she asks. Her eyebrows suddenly knit together in confusion.

  “Oh! That coat, yeah, thanks. I’ll make sure to grab it,” I say. Brandon probably left his outside when he came in to help.

  “All right, see you tomorrow,” she says. Her look is still one of suspicion. “I’ll stop by the café after I ship everything off.” She pats the bags of jewelry supplies.

  I get outside and scoop the coat off the porch. I look down the road and see Brandon waiting for me at the end of the street. Approaching slowly, I try to figure out what to say.

  “I’m sorry about all that. I just…I don’t know. Did you still want to do dinner?” I ask. I know it’s a terrible idea, but I can’t seem to help myself from asking, and from hoping he will say yes.

  “Of course. Which way to your house?”

  I lead the way and we walk in silence. We get to my house, and there is an awkward pause where we stand looking at each other, wondering what the protocol is for what happens next. Every inch of me fights the urge to jump at him and pick up where we left off in Ashley’s bathroom. He seems to sense my hesitation but makes it easy on me by crossing the room and settling onto the couch.

  “You go do what you gotta do. I’ll be fine here,” he says, flipping on the TV.

  I laugh at how easily he makes himself comfortable in light of the very uncomfortable circumstance
s. “Alright, I’ll be right back,” I say, as I head upstairs to my bedroom to shower and change my clothes.

  As the hot water beats down on me in the shower, I can’t help but replay the steamy make-out session back at Ashley’s house. I run my hands over my nipples that stiffen under my fingers, aching for Brandon’s touch. I lay my head back and let the water course over my breasts and stomach, pooling over my tender mound, before sliding my fingers down my body, sliding in the trail of water. I touch myself and gasp at the intense jolt of pleasure ricocheting through my body.

  My pleasure builds but then, as if my mind suddenly takes back over control, I snap out of it and pull my fingers away. I silently lecture myself for getting so carried away with Brandon, and sternly remind myself, that, although I’m not entirely sure what is going on with the relationship, I do have a boyfriend—and that this is the second time I have betrayed his trust. My guilt overtakes the feeling of arousal and I feel slightly sick to my stomach as I finish my shower.

  I have no idea where any of this is going, but I do know that I am in way over my head.

  Half an hour later I head back downstairs, feeling much more human, having showered, put on clean clothes, and reapplied a little makeup. There is still an edge of conflict in the back of my mind, but I try to push it out of the way, and just consider the rest of the evening, dinner with an old friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  Brandon turns his head to look back at me as I round the couch. “Feel better?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yes, quite refreshing to be duck poop free,” I say. “Ashley told me I smelled.”

  He laughs. “Well I wasn’t gonna say anything but—.”

  “Hey now! That didn’t seem to slow you down!”

  “Well maybe I’ve acquired a duck poop fetish. They don’t call it Holly-weird for no reason ya know,” he says. His eyes sparkle with mischief.

  We both laugh and I find myself loving and hating the easiness of this moment.

  The laughter subsides. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asks.

  “Good question,” I answer. Mentally rummaging through my cupboards and fridge to think of something, I finally laugh. “I could make spaghetti.”