So Revealing (Happy Endings Book Club, Book 3)

by Kylie Gilmore

  The doorbell rang and she leaped to answer it. Right on time, seven o’clock.

  She took a deep calming breath and opened the door. Ty flashed a smile, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. His black eye looked a little better. “Hey, Char,” he said in a warm honey tone.

  Swoon. “Hi,” she breathed.

  He wore an equally casual outfit—white T-shirt, faded jeans, and sneakers—and it took everything she had not to throw herself in his arms. Some part of her longed to be held by his strong arms again. His hugs swallowed her up in a good way, the best full-body embrace she’d ever felt.

  “Your dinner,” he said, holding up a large brown bag.

  “Come in.”

  He stepped inside, his woodsy fresh outdoor sex scent washing over her. That cologne was powerfully erotic, or maybe that was just Ty. “Thanks for having me.”

  “Of course. What’re we having?”

  “Sushi.”

  “I love sushi!”

  He smiled. “I knew you would.”

  She put a hand on her hip and asked playfully, “Why, you know everything about me?” She promptly clamped her mouth shut because he did.

  He didn’t seem to notice her sudden discomfort as he made himself at home on her sofa and set the dinner bag on the round glass coffee table. “What I don’t know I shrewdly guess.” He held up a finger. “Basic principle, we both keep fit, watch what we eat, and heavy on the protein. It was either sushi or steak, but the steak is really better freshly grilled.”

  He was so casual about everything she couldn’t help but relax. Hanging out was no big deal. “Water okay to drink?” she asked. “I don’t have any beer.”

  “Water is perfect. Hey, this is our second time getting together to drink a cup of water.” He winked, reminding her how she’d only offered to share water when he’d first asked her out.

  “Then it will be delicious,” she replied and speed walked to the kitchen before he could see her blush.

  A few minutes later, they dug into dinner. “What else is in the bag?” she asked. It was kind of large for just two take-out containers of sushi.

  “That’s the fixings for a martini, for later. Josh told me that’s your favorite drink.”

  “Oh.” Her heart kicked up, the unexpected sweetness tipping her into dangerously mushy territory. “So how’s work?”

  His face lit up as he spoke animatedly about the movie he was working on—a spy thriller. He was especially excited about rappelling off a skyscraper, which gave her the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.

  “How high up?” she asked.

  He chewed and swallowed. “Real high. Twenty stories. It’s a military-style rappel, so the goal is speed. More like jumping.”

  She shuddered.

  “Of course, there’s a harness on me and an inflatable stunt bag down below in case a rope snaps or something. It’s like a big pillow.”

  “That’s it? A pillow?” That sounded completely inadequate for a twenty-story fall. That was probably two hundred feet. She completely lost her appetite, thinking of Ty in a free fall to the city street.

  She studied his profile for a moment. He was completely relaxed, at ease with the risks he took. “I don’t think I could bear to watch what you do.”

  He glanced at her. “You see it in the movies all the time.”

  “I never really thought about the person actually doing that stuff.”

  He inclined his head. “People never do. We’re the real heroes of the movie.” He snagged another piece of sushi with the chopsticks and popped it in his mouth.

  “I guess I always thought a lot of that stuff was just a trick of the camera. Like green screen or whatever.”

  After he finished chewing, he said, “Some of it is. A lot of it isn’t. Depends on the movie and the budget. Obviously it’s better if you can make it as realistic as possible. Like my last movie, I walked through fire.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No!” All his beautiful golden skin.

  “Yeah. And it looks amazing on film.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “It’s uncomfortable. We wear this protective layer under our clothes and then there’s this goopy shit they slather all over us. Then whoosh! Flames. Stumble to your mark. Stop, drop, and roll. Then they spray you down with fire extinguishers.”

  She felt sick. “How can you do that? Do you have a death wish?”

  He lifted one massive shoulder. “It’s all calculated risk. My company outfit is the best. No deaths in twenty years—”

  “I don’t think I want to know any more.” Charlotte swallowed hard, her chest tight with anxiety.

  “We’re all very well trained. I’m even starting to train some of the newer crew.”

  “Are any of the stuntmen married?”

  He arched a brow. “Just one guy. Why?”

  She stared at her dinner, poking at it with the chopsticks, thinking of that stuntman’s wife. How could that woman allow herself to love someone who might die? Who purposely took death-defying risks on a daily basis just for a movie? Calm down. You’re not marrying Ty, you’re just hanging out.

  Ty went on. “The best are the fight scenes; car-chase scenes are a close second. I love cars. Bikes too. Motorcycle bikes, not regular bikes. One time I rode a bike right up the roof of a moving car coming right at me.” She sucked in a breath and he kept talking with even greater enthusiasm. “Another time I jumped off an overpass onto a moving car, no bike that time, and then ran down it.”

  “Ty.” She closed her eyes over the terrifying images. “It’s scary to think of you doing those things.”

  He laughed. “Glad to know you care. Don’t worry. I’m quick on my feet. What scares me is the idea of a desk job. I think I’d die of boredom.”

  “I don’t think anyone has ever died of boredom.”

  “Safe is way overrated.” He put his chopsticks down and turned to her. “You took a chance hanging out with me again and now here we are sharing food and having a great time.”

  “You’re really having a great time?” She’d thought staying in might be a little tame for him.

  He gave her a tender smile. “Any time with you is a great time.”

  She blinked, a little taken aback with his easy openness. “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I’m being sincere.”

  “Sorry. I’m just not used to it.”

  He grunted. “Better get used to it.”

  She didn’t respond, instead finishing up her meal, her appetite returning. She wasn’t used to a guy like Ty. He was getting under her skin, making her feel vulnerable yet also strangely happy. She was glad they’d decided to hang out and also glad there was a time limit with him going back to LA. She could enjoy him without getting in too deep.

  They finished up dinner and Ty stood. “I’ll do the dishes.” He gathered the take-out containers and headed to the kitchen to toss them in the trash.

  She followed behind him. “So what do you want to do now?”

  “We never did get to dance together. Let’s move the furniture back, put on some kickass tunes, and boogie.”

  Her jaw dropped. “For real?”

  He dumped the trash and turned to her. “You want to go to a club instead? I know you love dancing.”

  She smoothed her hair. “We could do it here.” She flushed. “I mean dance here.”

  “Then we’ll do it here.” His lips curled into a sexy knowing smile.

  She couldn’t help but smile. The delicious butterfly feeling was back—lust, excitement, and anxiety all rolled together.

  And then he started rearranging her furniture, working those powerful muscles.

  She watched with some amusement. “Lauren said you would be handy at rearranging the furniture.”

  He flashed a wide smile. “I’m handy for a lot of things.”

  “I bet.”

  His eyes locked with hers. “I think you know.”

  Heat pool
ed between her legs. Yeah, she knew. “I thought we were just hanging out today,” she croaked.

  “Sure are,” he said easily.

  “Then why do you keep reminding me about—”

  “Your long-awaited orgasm?”

  “I was going to say what happened on the boat.” She waved a hand in the air. “Can we not talk about this?”

  He lifted the coffee table and set it by the sofa against the wall. “You brought it up.”

  “No, you implied you were handy with a ton of innuendo.”

  He finished pushing all her furniture out of the way and rolled up the area rug. “I am handy.” He gestured to his handiwork. “Now we have a dance floor. Nice hardwood, by the way. Put on your favorite music and let’s see your moves.”

  She felt suddenly shy. It was so weird to be shy about dancing, but she usually danced at a place where dance was expected—a wedding or a club—not at home with one man who knew too much watching her.

  “Preferably something from this century,” he added, kicking off his sneakers. He ran and skidded across the hardwood floor in his socks.

  “What are you saying I’m old school?”

  “If the granny glasses fit.” He did a few arm windmills. “I saw your playlist.”

  “Just because a song is old doesn’t mean it’s not good anymore,” she grumbled, heading over to her speaker dock and pressing the button on her iPod for her workout playlist—a lot of hard, pumping club jams.

  Ty started bobbing his head in time to the music. “Bump and grind, baby.”

  “I don’t bump and grind. I dance.”

  He wiggled his fingers for her to join him, dancing a bit in place with a sexy come-hither look. She felt frozen for some reason. Like somehow dancing meant more than dancing. The man was weaving some kind of spell over her.

  The lights flickered on and off. Oh, shit. Not the power. She did not want to be stuck a second time in the dark with Ty. It wasn’t raining, but sometimes wind could take the power out.

  “You look terrified,” Ty said with a laugh. “What do you think’s going to happen if we’re in the dark? You already told me all your secrets.”

  “You said it was in the vault.”

  “It is. It’s just us.” He crossed to her and took her hand. Then he turned the music up loud, brought her to the center of the room, and turned off the overhead lights, so it was just the soft light from the end table. He took her hand and twirled her around slowly, completely off from the fast beat of the music thrumming through the room. Her heart raced. She needed to get this excess anxious energy out.

  “We’re moving too slow,” she said.

  He moved right up into her space, dancing faster now, smiling down at her, not seeming to find her past or her current complicated life unsettling at all. In fact, when he looked at her like that, she felt light and carefree.

  She lifted her arms over her head and danced.

  “Go, Char, go, Char.” He egged her on in his playful way and she really let loose, enjoying herself. Surprisingly he kept up with her, even lifting her up in a big swooping move. Damn, they really could go on Dancing with the Stars. She giggled, thinking of the headlines—Living room boogie pair makes it big!

  She lost herself to dancing. Song after song as she and Ty figured out how to move together, sometimes laughing at an awkward bump and sometimes smoldering at a sudden intensity in the way their bodies moved.

  Her playlist ended after an hour and the ensuing silence was startling. Her ears took a moment to adjust. She pushed the sweaty hair out of her eyes and smiled at him. “That was quite a workout.”

  He grinned. “You’re a better dancer than me, but it was fun.”

  She bumped him with her hip. “You kept up pretty well. Not many men can dance at all.”

  He hauled her up against his side and kissed her temple. “Ready for a drink?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get us some water.”

  “Cool. I’ll get the martini.” He pulled up his shirt and wiped the sweat off his face. His abs looked so lickable. Her gaze caught on a couple of bruises on his left side and she quickly turned away.

  She grabbed two glasses of water, returning to the living room, and stopped to watch the amazing Ty Moves Furniture show. She admired the rippling muscles of his shoulders, biceps, even his forearms as he put all her furniture back in place. See, he was okay, she reassured herself. His bruises didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “No problem.” He finished, sat on the sofa, and dug into the bag.

  “Here, take a drink.” She handed him the glass.

  He chugged it down, handing it back to her a few moments later. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” she murmured, taking a long swallow of her own drink.

  He mixed the ingredients in a martini shaker, shook it up, and poured two drinks. He’d even brought two plastic martini glasses.

  “You think of everything,” she said.

  “Wait,” he said, retrieving a small container of toothpicks and another small container of green olives. “Now I have everything.” He set the olives in place in the glasses. “Bottoms up.”

  She took a glass and sipped. “It’s good.”

  He sipped his drink and made a face. “This is what you like?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “You did a good job.”

  He stuck his tongue out and set the glass down. “I’ll bring beer next time.”

  “Sounds fair.” She sipped her drink, happy and relaxed. Her endorphins must really be kicking in from all that dancing.

  Time flew by as they talked easily. Ty told her about his house out in LA and how much he loved his work, even though he missed hanging with his brothers and honorary brothers, the guys he grew up with. It was hard for her to understand as an only child. But for him his brothers were like a part of him and, after a while, he needed to get in a visit or he actually felt out of sorts. He especially missed his mouthy twerp of a sister, he confided.

  “Don’t tell Mad,” Ty said in a conspiratorial tone, “but she’s my favorite. Strong and fierce. Ya gotta respect a fourth-degree blackbelt.”

  She smiled, warmed by the sweet confession. “You surely do.” She thought back to the way Ty teased Mad, but he also hugged her enthusiastically and ruffled her hair. He looked out for her in his big-brother way, she already knew that.

  Eventually it got late and she couldn’t hold back a yawn. She’d worked today, leading a few Zumba classes and working with her private clients. Not to mention their dancing in the living room.

  “You’re tired,” Ty said. “I’ll go.”

  “You can stay if you want,” she blurted. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

  He gazed at her for a long moment, seemed to come to a decision, and packed up the martini stuff. “This was great.” He stood. “Thanks for having me.”

  “You’re going? For real?”

  “For real. I told ya, no pressure, just hanging out. You want to come to my basketball game with the guys tomorrow?”

  “You mean to watch you play?”

  He tucked the bag under his arm. “You can watch, or you can play. I’ll make sure no one plows you down.”

  “I’ll just watch.” She wasn’t great at basketball and the idea of playing with a bunch of sweaty aggressive guys didn’t really appeal.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at noon. Game’s at the park not far from here.”

  “Okay.” She stood and walked with him to the front door. “Thanks for dinner and everything.”

  He dipped his head, kissed her cheek, and rumbled in her ear, “My pleasure.”

  She got a hot shiver, grabbed a hold of his upper arms, closed her eyes, and tilted her head up for a kiss—

  Nothing.

  She opened her eyes. He gave her a quick smile and then he left.

  She couldn’t quite believe it. No hot goodbye kiss?

  No groping when they were dancing eit
her.

  This was weird.

  Seriously weird. After the boat and her orgasm and her being all naked and him only in a towel. It was almost gentlemanly. Omigod, he was a gentleman! His upbringing had kicked in. But why now and not before? Was he not into her now that he knew so much, or was it the opposite, he was so into her that he wanted to treat her extra special?

  She sighed and crossed her arms, hugging herself. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so good yet so unsatisfied. Maybe that was his game. Making her desire him so much that she made the first move. Well played, Ty. If that was his game, it worked. She couldn’t wait to see him again and she definitely couldn’t wait to touch him again skin on skin. And with that thought came the immediate decision to wait on the sperm-donor single-mom route. Clearly she longed for some fun in her life and it would be good to have that before she made a decision on having a baby. A month or two delay wouldn’t hurt. Then, with a clear head and no regrets, she’d make a plan for her future.

  She headed to the bathroom, got out the birth control pills she’d been waffling over for the past couple of months, and took one.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte was ridiculously happy that Ty showed up exactly on time the next day. It made him seem reliable, a rare commodity nowadays, especially with the men she normally dated. He wore a black tee and black basketball shorts with high-top red basketball shoes.

  “Ready?” he asked from her front porch.

  “Ready.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed his scruffy cheek.

  He flashed a smile. “What was that for?”

  “Just happy to see you, I guess.”

  “Missing me so soon, eh? It was a pretty kickass date.” He turned and strutted down the front sidewalk.

  “I thought we were just hanging out,” she said, locking the front door.

  “That’s what I said.”

  She smiled to herself, turned, and stopped short when she saw the Harley in her driveway.

  “Ever ride?” he asked.

  “No. Where’s your car?”

  “The Mustang was Park’s on loan just for the day. I keep my old Harley here to get around when I’m in town. Didn’t you notice it yesterday?”