Hidden Charm (Silver Cove Book 4)

by Jill Sanders

  With Mark, she’d allowed the Hollywood lights to blind her. When she’d finally realized what he was, she’d pulled away. JT, however, was something completely different.

  In ways, he was a lot like her father had been, a hidden charmer. Her father had always had a soft voice, a kind heart, and a gentle touch with everything, including people and animals.

  She couldn’t remember her father ever raising his voice. She closed her eyes as the car drove her back across town. Tears threatened to surface as she remembered the last time she’d seen her father.

  He’d begged her to follow her dreams and not mourn for him too long.

  “Em, sweet Em, life is too short to dwell on the lost. You’re so young.” He’d reached up with his frail hand and brushed a tear away from her eyes. “Follow your dreams. Promise me.”

  He’d waited until she’d nodded in agreement. “I promise,” she said with a cracked voice.

  “I should have followed mine long ago. It’s too late for me, but you’re so young and beautiful.” He smiled. “So much like your mother.”

  “I got all the good parts from you.” He smiled at their long-running joke.

  “I love you. Don’t ever be afraid to say those words. I was and look at where it got me. I should have remarried. Given you a mother.”

  “No.” She’d shaken her head quickly. “I wouldn’t have shared you with anyone.”

  When the car stopped, she opened her eyes and smiled. JT stood out front of her building, holding a large bundle of white roses.

  This time, the streets were dark and not a single soul could be seen as she made her way towards him.

  “What’s this?” she asked, stopping in front of him.

  “A thank you.” He smiled. “Before I head to the airport.” He glanced as his watch and sighed deeply. “Now I’ll be lucky to catch my flight on time.”

  “I don’t leave for another eight hours.” She took the roses and buried her face in them, taking in their soft petals and wonderfully sweet scent.

  “Lucky,” he said softly.

  “I wish you could stay.”

  “Me too.” He ran a hand over her shoulder. “Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” He took a step closer and she felt her heart flutter in her chest.

  Her smile was instant. “I think you mentioned something.”

  “You do.” He took another step, the flowers trapped between them. “The most beautiful woman there tonight, easily.”

  When his lips brushed hers, her eyes slid closed and she allowed everything she was to shine through in the kiss.

  “I’ll see you in New York,” he said after a moment. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

  She watched him walk towards his waiting car and desperately wished she could call after him and say those words her father urged her never to be afraid to say. But something kept her lips sealed as the car drove away. He turned and looked out the back window with a wave.

  She waved back and then went back into her condo to count the hours until she could see him again.

  Chapter 23

  He’d never had a better time in the big city. For most of his life, he’d avoided New York. He’d made the trek down the coast several times in the past few years, but the busyness and hustle just weren’t for him.

  Most of the time he’d come for meetings with his agent, Barbara Culter, or the publisher. None of those trips could compare to this one.

  It was almost as if Emma was freed of Mark and her commitments to him.

  Of course, he’d helped the situation out when he’d introduced Nikki and Mark before leaving the party the other night.

  He could see the instant attraction in both of their eyes.

  The parties in New York went more smoothly than the ones in LA had. He was lucky enough to stand beside Emma all night. They laughed and enjoyed the evening so much, he’d followed her back to her hotel, and they’d spent the entire night together.

  They had interviews on several morning shows the following day. He’d watched a few others that she’d had lined up. He enjoyed watching her work more than being in front of the camera himself. He didn’t even care that Mark was sitting beside her for the entire hour. It appeared that the man was losing interest in Emma since Nikki was following him around like a lost puppy.

  He got to spend two wonderful nights with Emma in the city before he headed back home in a rental car after dropping Emma off at the airport. The long drive home was boring and lonely.

  It took him almost nine hours to finally reach Silver Cove. He’d stopped for lunch outside of Boston and had been stuck in traffic getting out of the city during rush hour.

  When he parked at the docks, Rowan, Cora, and Bo where waiting for him. He’d texted them his ETA.

  He had to admit, it felt great to be home.

  When he got out of the car, however, the frowns on their faces told him something was off.

  “What?” he asked instantly.

  “I didn’t do it,” Cora said immediately.

  “What?” he asked again. From the look on Rowan’s face, he knew it was going to be a very long night.

  “It appears that your boathouse caught fire.”

  “What?” His entire body jerked.

  “It’s okay.” Rowan held out his hands. “It was only in the back shed area. Cora put it out before—”

  “Are you okay?” He turned to his half sister.

  She looked taken back and just blinked up at him.

  “I… yes,” she said after a moment.

  “Do we know what caused it?” he asked Rowan.

  Rowan’s eyes moved to Cora.

  “I don’t smoke.” She raised her chin. “I swear it.”

  “Of course, you don’t,” JT added. “Which means someone else was on the island.” He marched towards his boat.

  “You believe me?” Cora said, keeping up with him.

  “Sure.” He glanced down at her. “I spent time with you, and not once did you break out a cigarette.”

  He remembered his bags and went back to the rental, pulled them out, and tossed them over his shoulder.

  “It’s not that bad, but it is a mess,” Rowan said as JT tossed his bags into the boat.

  “Thanks.” He reached up and shook his soon-to-be-brother-in-law’s hand. “For watching the place and these guys.” He nodded to Cora and Bo, who were already in the boat, eager to return to the island.

  “No problem. We enjoyed it. I know Kayla enjoyed having Cora around.” He waved as JT set the boat in the direction of home.

  “I’m really sorry about your boathouse,” Cora said once they were heading off.

  “Did you check the cameras?” he asked.

  “Yes, there wasn’t a camera facing that way. I fixed it by moving one over there.” She leaned back. “It looked like you had a good time,” she said after a few minutes of silence.

  “I did.” He smiled, then glanced over at her. “Looked?”

  Her smile doubled. “You haven’t seen the photos?”

  “What photos?” he asked, suddenly having a sinking feeling in his gut.

  “They’re all over the place. You and Emma. There was one with a huge bundle of white roses smashed between you two as you kissed.” Cora sighed and her eyes drifted off over the water. “I can only wish that a boy will kiss me like that someday.”

  He groaned and tried not to grit his back teeth.

  “Then there’s the one of the two of you holding hands in the rain at Central Park.” She sighed again and he wished she’d change the subject.

  When he pulled the boat into the slip, his frustration level had reached an all-time high.

  Half of the back of the building was scarred black.

  “How’d you put this out yourself?” he asked, tossing his bags onto the dock.

  “There’s a hose around the side. I used it until the fire was out.”

  “You could have been hurt. There’s gas stored back there.”

  “
What do you think caused so much damage?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Where was Rowan or my sister?”

  “Connor was sick.”

  “You came out here by yourself?”

  “Rowan taught me how to drive the boat.”

  He closed his eyes and wished for more patience.

  Over the next few days, he remained busy fixing the boathouse, putting the final touches on his guest room, and setting up a makeshift office in the attic.

  His father had called several more times after he’d found out that Cora was staying with him.

  Since the girl was old enough to do what she wanted, he decided not to talk to his father about it and would just hand the phone back to Cora when the man started arguing with him.

  He’d had enough of him when he’d lived there. The last thing he wanted to deal with was his old man threatening to send the police out to remove Cora forcefully. His sister’s view of that idea was clear. She’d run away again before she’d go back to her father, at least until she found out what had happened to her mother.

  They spent time while working together on the house going over everything.

  The last she’d seen of her mother was the night her parents had gone on a drive. Their father insisted she’d demanded to be let out of the car so she could walk home.

  The fact that the incident was so familiar to Lori’s didn’t go unnoticed by him.

  He remembered the night perfectly. He’d played it over in his mind since the following day, kept it fresh in his mind.

  One evening, after working on his office, he pulled out his journal and brought it downstairs.

  Cora had made mac and cheese. His sister wouldn’t pass as a chef, but she was great at some basic foods.

  “What’s that?” she asked, sitting across from him. She was wearing a pair of his old sweats. She’d only come with one bag of clothes, so he’d taken her into town and purchased as many clothes as she wanted, yet she still ended up wearing old clothes of his that he’d planned on donating.

  “My journal.” He held it up. “Everything about the night my sister… our sister disappeared,” he corrected. He’d started thinking of her as family and figured it would be good for her to think of Lori as such.

  “I must have been seven or eight when she died,” Cora said, her eyes glued to the old notebook.

  “How old where you when Dad moved in full time?”

  “The week of my eighth birthday,” she answered easily. “My mother had just gotten out from…” She shook her head. “It was nice having both parents in the house for my birthday.”

  “Maybe you can look over my notes.” He pushed the notebook across the table and picked up his fork, then set it down again and went to grab a beer from the fridge.

  So far, the kid hadn’t touched his stash of booze. He’d been impressed. That was another reason he knew she hadn’t been the one to start the fire with a cigarette.

  “Does our dad smoke?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “No,” Cora answered. “My mother used to, but she stopped when Dad moved in.”

  He sighed and sat back down and sipped his beer. She was reading over his notes as she nibbled on her food.

  “We’ll have to hit the store again.” He thought about the growing list on the fridge. He figured Kayla could keep Cora busy at the store while he did a little more digging down at the police station. It was about time he used his connections to look into his father’s dealings.

  “I need a few more things too.” She bit her bottom lip and reminded him so much of Kayla.

  Just then, his cell phone rang. Seeing Kayla’s number, he answered.

  “Have you seen the news?” she blurted out before he could say hello.

  “No, we’re eating dinner.” He frowned down at his empty bowl.

  “Go turn on the news.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s… Emma,” she said after a moment.

  He jumped up and rushed to the living room. Cora had convinced him to put the small flat screen over the fireplace for when she was, as she called it, stuck in the main house. He’d moved his big TV into her room above what used to be his office but was now a dance studio. Apparently, the kid was a ballerina. A pretty damn good one at that. He’d helped her hang her bar along the wall that used to house his computers.

  When he turned the station to the local news, he saw Emma’s face on the screen. It was a stock image and he tossed the phone over to Cora while he turned up the volume.

  “Emma Wilder is the up-and-coming star of JT Whistler’s first successful novel-made-to-movie, Crescent Creek. Miss Wilder’s car was being chased by an undisclosed number of vehicles while she made her way back to her hotel in Rome. It’s unclear what her injuries are at this time, only that she’s listed in critical condition. It’s been confirmed that her driver and her agent, Rich Andress, are dead.”

  JT’s body shook uncontrollably and he didn’t hear the rest of the newscast. Suddenly, thin arms wrapped around his waist as Cora held onto him. He didn’t realize she was crying until he heard her sniffle against his chest.

  “Go, Rowan will meet you at the dock and take you to the airport. Kayla and Connor are going to come out and stay with us tonight.”

  Cora reached up on her toes and placed a sisterly kiss on his cheek. “Tell her…” She closed her eyes. “Get better fast.”

  He nodded, then marched out of the house blindly.

  He wasn’t sure how he made it to the docks in Silver Cove; he’d worked on instinct. He’d made the trip so many times over the past years, he could do it in his sleep.

  When he docked, Kayla and a very sleepy Connor jumped in. Kayla set Connor down and reached over and hugged him. “Be safe.” She kissed him, much like Cora had done. Once again, he nodded. “Rowan’s waiting for you.” She nodded to the sports car waiting at the end of the dock.

  He hadn’t even packed a bag and was thankful he felt his wallet in his back pocket as he climbed into the leather seats.

  “Kayla called and has a plane waiting for you. I hope it’s okay, but we pulled some strings.”

  He closed his eyes, not caring about details, only about making it to Rome as quickly as possible.

  “Any more news?” Rowan asked.

  He shrugged. “Nothing other than she’s in critical condition.”

  Rowan took the corner to the private airstrip just outside of town, spitting up gravel as the car made the turn smoothly. “Let us know if you need anything. Keep us updated.”

  “I will,” he said as the sports car came to a stop. When he saw the private jet, he glanced at Rowan.

  “It’s Sarah and Ben’s.” He smiled. “You have it for as long as you need.”

  “Thanks.” JT waved back as he rushed to the waiting staff of the slick aircraft.

  He wasn’t sure if the small jet could make the hop in one swoop or if they’d have to stop for refueling, but at this point, his mind was focused on Emma. The cabin was larger than it looked from the outside. It could easily sit twenty. There were long sofas along the front wall, with individual leather seats in the rear. Several large flat screen TVs hung overhead.

  He sat down in a chair and buckled up as the plane started to move.

  He tried her number for the first time since seeing the report and when it went to voicemail, he left a message.

  He had a death grip on the phone for most of the flight. Somehow, the eleven-hour trip felt like double. There was a young man who tried to give him dinner and then breakfast when daylight flooded the cabin, but he just shook the man off. He continued to try and call Emma. Still, his call went to her voicemail.

  His eyes were glued to the television set as the news continued to cycle the story.

  By the time they landed, Kayla had texted him the name of the hospital Emma was staying in. Her message also said that they had moved her out of intensive care.

  That knowledge hadn’t caused him to relax at all. Instead, he w
as more determined to get to her.

  Chapter 24

  Emma woke to bright lights and a splitting headache. She vaguely remembered where she was and why she was there. Her left hand and left ankle hurt, but it was her head that was killing her.

  When she reached up to touch it, gentle hands held her right hand down.

  “Easy.” The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. When she tried to get her eyes to focus, they refused. “I’m here,” the voice came again. “You’re okay.”

  This time, she blinked until JT’s face came into view.

  “What… are you doing here?” She frowned.

  JT chuckled. “That’s a fine way to greet me after I flew across the world to be by your side when you woke.”

  She closed her eyes. “I’m still in Rome?”

  “Yes,” he said softly.

  “You… you’re really here?” She opened her eyes again, and this time they focused a little more. His long blond hair fell around his face. He had two-day’s growth of hair on his face. “You look like a mountain man,” she blurted out, causing him to chuckle.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment since I know I must look like shit.”

  “No, you look wonderful.” She reached her hand up, only this time, she touched his face instead of hers.

  “What happened?” she asked, feeling as if everything was fuzzy.

  “You tell me,” he said after a moment.

  “I… can’t really remember.”

  “It’s okay.” He moved closer. “The doctor says you’ll need plenty of rest.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling like she needed to explain to him.

  “For what?”

  “I won’t be able to make the rest of my commitments.”

  He laughed and raised her hand to his lips. The hair on his chin and around his lips tickled the back of her hand, but the feeling of his soft lips on her skin relaxed her.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m here now. When you’re ready, I’ll take you home.”

  “I don’t want to go back to LA,” she said, feeling groggy again.

  “No?” he said and, even though her eyes were closed, she could tell he was smiling. “You don’t have to then.”