by Decadent
“I know he called again last night. Sounded like he begged you to come back.”
It had been three days since the engagement announcement and her departure. Since then, he’d called day and night, nearly as often as the reporters trying to get the scoop on their relationship and why she was no longer on tour with him. Just last night he’d called drunk and confessed that he was sleeping next to another girl whose name he didn’t know. And he was miserable.
“He’ll stop eventually.”
“Kimber, honey, underneath that tough exterior that Logan and Hunter beat into you as a kid, you have a soft heart,” he said warmly—a side of him he didn’t show to anyone but her, and it never failed to make her feel loved. “You need to tell that boy to move on with his life. Be firm.”
“I am, but it’s not that simple. He needs a friend right now. I’m it.”
“You can’t save him from himself.”
“I told him that.”
“So why are you keeping that phone on?”
Because she’d made a decision. Being with Jesse had shown her the difference between a crush and real love, between a girl’s hopes and a woman’s wants. She wasn’t a girl anymore, and she wanted Deke. Luc was a big part of his life, and she cared about them both. That’s where she belonged. Everyone knew it but Deke.
She’d let him run her off. Time and perspective had helped her to understand that Deke hadn’t meant an ugly word he’d hurled at her that night. But she’d let herself feel the hurt and dashed off. Stupid, emotional decision.
Despite her mental bravado, Kimber couldn’t bring herself to call their house. If Deke answered and rejected her . . . No, she wasn’t voluntarily signing up for pain. He’d give her plenty of hell later, when she tried to ingrain herself back in his life. But Luc would call. Soon. And that’s why she left her phone on. He’d want to know the scoop between her and Jesse. When she told him it was over, maybe he’d tell Deke. Maybe it would make a difference . . .
She grimaced. God, that sounded so high school. If she wanted something, it was up to her to make it happen. Kimber knew that. She’d known it when she’d seen her doctor and started taking the pill two days ago. She’d known it yesterday when she left a message on Luc’s cell phone and indicated that she wanted to talk to him.
“By the way, who the hell is Luc?” her dad asked.
Kimber’s head snapped up. “How do you know about him?”
“When you turned off your phone late last night, he called me to ask if you’re okay. Why does he care and how do you know him?”
“Luc Traverson, the chef.”
“The one with the cookbooks? How did you meet him?”
“He’s Deke Trenton’s cousin.” She didn’t offer more information. She didn’t dare. Her dad would figure it out anyway.
His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me how you met him.”
“Dad, it’s really not important.”
“Bullshit. The reason you don’t turn off your phone when these reporters are hounding you has something to do with this guy. Why? You couldn’t have met Luc while you were away at school.”
Kimber pretended rapt interest in the TV. It wouldn’t be long now, and she wished desperately that something fascinating would flash on the screen and distract her dad. A beer commercial, despite the big-breasted blonde, wasn’t going to do it.
“You could only have met him through Deke. Why would you see Deke? He always had a hard-on for you and treated you like hell for it. Years ago, I told him if he touched you, I’d cut his balls off.”
Why didn’t that surprise her? She wished that was the reason Deke had refused to make love to her . . . but she knew better.
“You know what sort of sex Deke is into, right?”
Kimber winced. Here it comes . . .
“Of course you know. Before you went to Jesse, you . . . talked to Deke about it? Or did you more than talk?”
“Dad, I’m not seventeen anymore.”
“Shit!” The Colonel sighed, raking fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. Even at forty-eight, he had the look of a warrior. He prowled the family room like a caged animal. Dad was a man of action, and all this talking had to be grating for him. Kimber tried to hide her smile.
“This isn’t funny,” he warned.
Clearly, he was not amused by the knowledge that she’d seen Deke and possibly partaken in a ménage. “I didn’t imply it was.”
Jesse’s face flashed across the TV screen as part of a montage previewing a popular entertainment show.
Then her face.
“Oh my gosh.” Kimber stared at the image of them at the concert, shortly after Jesse’s engagement announcement. She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. What the hell was going on now?
Then, it got worse. The screen flashed the face of another woman. Young. Artificial blond hair. Artificial tears. Something about her face was familiar . . . The girl was claiming to be Jesse’s longtime lover and pregnant by him.
Suddenly, Kimber placed her.
“She’s lying,” Kimber murmured. “Jesse met her the night I left. I found him and one of his band members having sex with her. He didn’t even know her name.”
“He had sex with her after announcing to the world he intended to marry you?” Her dad all but growled the words.
She nodded, hoping to hear the announcer’s next words.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why bother?” she asked. “You can’t fix it for me. I have to do that.”
The Colonel just sighed.
The announcer voiced over a series of pictures of Jesse, then cut again to the artificial blonde. “Jesse McCall is the father of my unborn baby,” she cried. “The announcement of his engagement to Kimber Edgington was a shock to me . . .”
More tears. Kimber’s stomach lurched. Then came a video, grainy, jumpy, a bit dark, of Jesse and the girl. Despite the pixilated blur of various parts of their bodies, it was clear that they were naked. Kimber knew it was Jesse because the bedroom had been his at the Houston hotel suite and he had that exact birthmark on his shoulder. Apparently, Ryan, who enjoyed home movies, had shot this footage. In the video, the girl lay on the bed, on her back, legs spread. Jesse, with his back to the camera, climbed between them.
Kimber quickly realized that must have happened directly after she’d caught him with the other two and left. She shook her head.
Cut back to the artificial blonde. “His proposal to this other woman is both unexpected and heartbreaking. My baby needs a father . . .”
Could this get any worse?
The show cut again to a clip of Jesse on a late-night talk show host’s sofa. The TV personality sent him a wry glance.
“So tell us about your fiancée. And if she knows anything about your pregnant girlfriend.”
“That girl in the video is not my girlfriend. When you’re a celebrity, people make claims . . .” Jesse waved away the rest of the host’s question. “Right now, I’m focused and eager to be a full-time fiancé to Kimber.”
Kimber flinched. Damn it, she’d made it clear that she wasn’t going to marry him. Why didn’t he get it?
Jesse just went on. “You know how it is when you meet the ultimate woman for you, man. That’s it.”
The talk show host, who’d been happily married for many years, nodded. “What do you say about the rumors that your fiancée left the tour the night you proposed?”
“She left to spend time with her family before the wedding. The press has blown it out of proportion. The rest is just a misunderstanding.” Jesse’s mouth wobbled so slightly, probably no one noticed but her.
“I don’t call sleeping with another woman a misunderstanding,” her dad snarled, looking ready to lunge at the TV.
Raking his hand through his signature shaggy hair, Jesse recovered his smile. “She’ll be back. Are you watching, honey? I miss you.”
Then he broke into a few bars of song, something he’d written himself, she guessed
, with a sappy melody and lyrics about needing her. It ended with a plea to come back.
She flinched again.
The entertainment show cut to the “pregnant girlfriend” again, holding yet another press conference, now surprisingly dry-eyed. “Jesse McCall is not the father of my baby. I’m a great admirer of his, but I have never met him. I deeply regret if my desire to get his attention caused any harm.”
What? “She’s lying again. She did meet Jesse. That’s them on the video.”
Cal, Jesse’s manager, appeared next. Grim would have been a pleasant description of his expression when asked to comment about Jesse’s appearance on the talk show.
It hit Kimber then that if Cal had tried to pay her off to make her go away, he’d likely done the same thing to this girl, who’d apparently tried to blackmail him with Ryan’s home video footage.
On TV, Cal cleared his throat. “Jesse McCall’s private life is private. Right now, we’re focused on the upcoming album and his current tour—”
“Did Ms. Edgington leave him? Did she end the engagement?”
“No comment. We’re adding a second show in Atlanta. Tickets will go on sale this Saturday. These are the kinds of things fans should be focused on.”
“Jesse indicated a wedding this fall. Will that still happen?”
“Nothing has been decided yet except that the new album will be out then and he’ll be in full support of it,” Cal snapped.
Oh, he was pissed. Anything that focused media attention away from Jesse’s music and too much on his personal life would not please Cal.
Then the announcer returned, asking in the most lurid voice possible what the truth was and asking viewers to stay tuned while they got to the bottom of it.
Kimber sat back. How had she missed all this? Because she’d been busy making decisions and starting her plans, not watching TV for the last two days.
She shook her head. What a mess! God, she needed some fresh air. And for all of this to die down.
Flipping the TV off, Kimber got up off the sofa, grabbed her phone, and headed toward her dad’s office.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m putting a stop to this crap with Jesse.”
She marched down the hall and plopped herself in her dad’s office chair, booted up the computer, and waited. At the log-in prompt, she typed the password. At the desktop, she opened a web browser and signed into her e-mail account.
Then she began typing. A few minutes and a few quizzical stares from her dad later, she asked, “What do you think of this:
“Mr. McCall and I have chosen to end our engagement, as we’re both focused on our respective careers and other matters. I’m still a great fan and a great friend, and I wish him all the best in future endeavors. At this time, I’m asking for privacy while I pursue this next phase of my life.”
“That sounds good,” her father praised. “Who are you sending it to?”
Kimber hesitated. Good question. What was the fastest way for this news to both reach Deke and Luc, and give the reporters enough so they’d eventually go away?
Suddenly, she smiled. “The world.”
It took nearly an hour, but she drudged up e-mails to every major news outlet she could think of. Then pressed Send.
TWO hours later, Kimber sat out on the back patio, enjoying the sunset, despite the summer heat, when her phone rang for the umpteenth time, finally displaying the name and number she’d been hoping to see.
“Luc?”
“Sweetheart, is that really your statement on the news, the one about the engagement being over?”
So he had seen it. And he sounded damn hopeful, too. She smiled. “Yeah.”
The question was, had Deke seen it?
“When did you decide to break it off?”
She sent him an ironic laugh. “The night he announced to the world we were getting married without asking me first.”
“He never asked you?”
“We’d talked about it in the past, so he assumed . . . I called you yesterday to tell you my plans.”
“I hate that I missed your call. I had to take a quick trip.”
At the mention of his trip, he sounded . . . distracted. No, upset. Hmm, something. “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” Luc finally said after hesitating. “Just something in Louisiana . . . It—It’s no big . . . It’s not important. What’s more important is you breaking the engagement. Tell me, did you call me because you want to come back here, to be with us?”
Kimber bit her lip and steeled herself to hear the worst. Luc would welcome her, but Deke . . .
“Yeah. I was hoping to tell you first.” Her stomach jumped, coiled into unrelenting knots. Sitting here worrying wasn’t going to solve anything. “And that you’d tell Deke and get his reaction.”
“Deke heard the news about your engagement when I did.” Luc hesitated again, this time for longer. “He was furious. He thought you’d said yes to Jesse. Slept with him. Were in love with him.”
If he was furious, that meant he still cared, right? “What do you think his reaction will be when he finds out none of that is true?”
“None of it? You weren’t in love with Jesse?”
“I thought I was, before you two. I realize now it was every bit the schoolgirl crush that Deke accused me of having.”
“You didn’t have sex with Jesse?”
“No. No real interest on either part, to be honest. Him because he wanted to keep me a ‘good girl’ so I could save him from his depraved life, and me because . . . he wasn’t the man on my mind. I didn’t want him.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Luc’s happiness vibrated across the phone. “You don’t know what a relief that is. What a relief that will be to Deke.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes. Not that he’ll admit it.” Kimber heard the irony in Luc’s voice.
“Do you think he’ll welcome me back?” Kimber stood and paced across the front porch. She couldn’t just sit and wait for this answer. Too much of her future was riding on it.
“He won’t be able to say no. I think he’s regretted forcing you out the door a thousand times.” Luc paused. “He’s afraid.”
“That he’ll be emotionally vulnerable to me?” Kimber held her breath, waiting for an answer. She didn’t want Deke to feel threatened. But until she figured out exactly what was stopping him from exploring their relationship, she was going to have to go on the offense.
“That’s part of it.” Luc sighed. “Look, Deke’s shutting off the shower now, so I can’t talk long. But he knows that if you come back, he’s going to want to make love to you—in every way.”
“I hope so.”
“Yes, but it’s complicated. Deke isn’t going to be whole until he tells you his story. It has to come from him.”
“I understand.” Kimber hated it, but she would respect it.
“Will you be back with us tomorrow?” Luc’s voice told her that he wanted her there that quickly.
As she sat under the setting Texas sun, it was stunning to think that shortly after the sun rose tomorrow, she could be back with Deke and Luc, in their arms and in their lives . . . if Deke would have her.
“I’d love that. I hope that—”
Kimber never finished the sentence. A massive explosion boomed like thunder directly behind her. The force of it threw her down onto the planks of the old wraparound porch, scraping her palms and knees. The phone skittered out of her hand. Heat, as strong as a thousand suns, lashed her back. The ground shook beneath her.
She whirled around in time to see the house burst into a fireball.
“Dad!”
Chapter Twelve
JUST under two hours later, Kimber paced the cold hospital waiting room, chewing on a ragged fingernail. God, her insides jumped and shivered so badly, she was about to come out of her skin. She shot another worried glance toward the operating room, where they’d taken her dad.
No one had emerged yet to tell her
whether her father was going to live or . . . No, she wouldn’t think that. Deep breath. Hang tough. Pray.
Good advice, but she kept reliving that terrible moment. One minute she’d been sitting on the porch talking to Luc, the next, her father’s house had exploded with him inside. The fire had been everywhere, she realized in retrospect. That fact hadn’t really occurred to her when she’d run in and found him unconscious, about to be consumed by encroaching flames. Upon finding the doorknob too hot to handle, she’d saved time by simply knocking his chair through the glass door to the backyard and dragging him out.
The firemen who’d responded to the emergency had told her that her dad would never have survived if she hadn’t thought fast and saved him from the growing inferno. But he was injured pretty badly. What if she hadn’t done enough to save him?
Kimber glanced at a long row of empty chairs in the waiting room perched on brownish indoor/outdoor carpet and surrounded by dusty silk plants. No, she couldn’t sit, couldn’t stop moving.
Couldn’t stop worrying.
Damn, what had caused that explosion?
Behind her, the automatic doors whooshed open. Absently, she turned.
Luc charged in. Looking harried and worried, he scanned the room and sighed with relief when his frantic gaze landed on her. Crushingly glad to see him, tears stung her eyes as he darted toward her, then enveloped her in warm, strong arms.
With her chin tucked against his shoulder, she inhaled, breathing in comfort, feeling a blessed moment of joy. Then she opened her eyes.
Deke!
He stood behind Luc, blue eyes so dark with concern, their expression damn near resembled panic. His stare delved into her, needing reassurance that she was alive yet offering support all at once.
Her stare collided with his, and Kimber felt the impact reverberate inside her, tightening around her stomach and squeezing until she could hardly breathe.
He’d come. He’d put everything between them aside and come to her.
Tears spilled over, onto sooty cheeks. Watching her, Deke grimaced as the tears fell, as if seeing her upset was physically painful.