by Judi Fennell
“It’s an SUV, Mags.” Jason swooped his little sister up in his arms, a first for him, and took the duffel from her without being asked.
Beth’s throat tightened as Maggie squealed in delight, just like she used to do with Mike. As she’d done with Bryan. And now with Jason. Her family was rebuilding. Finding the laughter in everyday life. Returning to themselves. Two long years and finally, they could move forward.
“You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Donna asked as John corralled five excited kids out the front door.
“Thank you for asking, but this is your time with them. You don’t need me around. Enjoy being grandparents. Spoil them.” Beth kicked another of Sherman’s toys under the sofa. Or actually, she thought that one might have been Tommy’s. Maybe her home would actually stay presentable for longer than five minutes this weekend.
“Yes, that is a grandparent’s prerogative.”
“And they need it. With me, it’s all about schedules and chores and summer reading.” She fluffed a pillow on the sofa. First time she’d done that in two years. “They deserve a break.”
“And so do you.”
She fluffed another pillow. “I love my kids.”
“We know you do, honey.” Donna put her hand on Beth’s arm. “But you’re human like the rest of us. You need a break. You need to relax and be you. Just you.”
Beth couldn’t answer Donna because the insight was too overwhelming. She did need to be her. To find out who her was again. And maybe even redefine this new her.
She squeezed Donna’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
“Oh, it’s our pleasure, Beth. We just wish we could do more, but with where we live, well, there are rules.”
The beauty and the curse of a fifty-five-plus community was that grandkids couldn’t stay for longer than a weekend. Given that Donna and John lived an hour and a half away, it wasn’t really worth the effort to do those weekends on a regular basis, which was why this long weekend at the shore was so appreciated.
“I hope you have something special planned for this weekend.” Donna fluffed a pillow and they smiled at each other. “I heard about that movie star who was working for you. Maybe something there . . .”
Yeah, it felt kind of weird to have her mother-in-law trying to play matchmaker.
“It’s nothing like that, Donna. Besides, he’s gone off to film his new movie. He was just helping out his sister. She owns the cleaning service.”
“Oh. That’s a shame. I mean, Michael wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone. You need a partner in this, Beth. Raising five kids is hard enough for two parents, but for one . . .” Donna patted her arm. “John and I worry about you, dear. You’ll always be our daughter-in-law, but we don’t mind sharing if you find someone else to love you and the kids. We just wanted you to know that you have our blessing.”
Beth couldn’t respond. She could barely breathe, let alone speak. Instead, she enveloped her mother-in-law in a huge hug and fought back the tears. She’d be so blessed in her life if it weren’t for that damn plane crash.
Donna patted her back, then straightened with all the brisk no-nonsense-ness she’d raised her son with. “So you have a nice relaxing weekend all by yourself. Be sure to pamper yourself, Beth. A massage, a facial. Take in a movie. Go out to eat. Treat yourself.”
“Oh Mommy already did that,” chirped Maggie from the door. “Bryan made her. Then he took the boys shopping so we could devolve eggs.”
Donna raised an eyebrow at Beth.
“Dissolve eggs. They were doing an experiment about the effects of soda on egg shells to show how it affects teeth.”
“Yeah and it was gross. I’m never gonna drink soda again ’cause I wanna keep my teeth. Is that why Grandpa doesn’t have any? Did he drink lots of soda?”
John had removed his dentures in front of the kids once by accident. They hadn’t been scared and begged him to take them out whenever they saw him.
“Why don’t we go ask him that, Maggie?” Donna held out her hand and looked back over her shoulder at Beth when Maggie latched on. “We’ll see you Sunday night, Beth. Do something special this weekend.”
Kara had a good suggestion.
For a second, Beth considered it. Just grabbing the first plane to the west coast and visiting Bryan on his movie set.
It was a tempting thought.
One weekend just for her. No one to answer to or worry about or pick up from a friend’s house or drop at an activity. She could think only about herself and what she wanted. What she needed. Because, as much as she hated to admit it, yeah, she did need Bryan. She needed that human touch. That physical contact. She’d never realized how important hugging was. How much she’d miss it. But with Mike’s death, a whole new world of emptiness and loneliness had been opened to her, and these past two weeks, Bryan had filled some of those.
She was a grown woman. She could take this weekend for herself. No one would ever have to know. Just her and him and—
And the paparazzi. Already the news coverage of Bryan being on set had made even her local news. The press were still interested in what he did, where he went, who he went with.
So, as much as she wanted to go, she wouldn’t. Besides the fact that Bryan had respected her wish and left, she’d have to get on a plane. That would be harder than being a casual sort of woman.
Chapter Thirty-one
CUT!”
Bryan took a deep breath and tried not to glare at Carina. She was purposely sabotaging the scene.
PJ walked out from behind the camera. “Carina, you cannot straddle Bryan. It’s not in the script and Megan wouldn’t do that.”
“Megan’s a little too reserved.” Carina, not moving an inch from where she was plastered across his lap, pulled a lipstick from her back pocket and slathered it on her silicone-enhanced lips.
Bryan tried not to gag. He really hated the taste of lipstick. Women definitely wore it for themselves and not for men because no guy Bryan knew ever said anything about how great a woman’s lipstick tasted after kissing her.
PJ ripped off his baseball cap and ran his arm across his forehead. Only eight thirty and already tempers were hot. “Megan is supposed to be reserved. That’s part of why she and Mike don’t jump into bed together right away.”
“Well I think they should. It’d spice this picture up some.” She gave Bryan the once-over.
God no. Bryan tried not to squirm. The fewer love scenes he had to do with Carina, the better.
He coughed to hide his laugh. Here he was with one of the most beautiful women on the planet in a job more than half the male population would kill for, and he was trying to find ways to avoid kissing her.
“Then we wouldn’t have a movie.”
Carina rolled her eyes, then stared pointedly at his mouth before sliding her leg across his lap, slowly, the invitation still in her eyes. “I think we’d have a better one.”
“Well it’d be a different one, that’s for sure.” Bryan stood up and caught Carina’s glance at his crotch. Sorry, babe, but he’s not reacting to you. Probably the first time that’d ever happened to her.
PJ nodded at Bryan and blew out a big breath. “Okay, then. Let’s take it from where Mike surprises Megan in the garden.”
“What about Bryan doing that scene without a shirt?” Carina tugged the hem of his T-shirt. “That would really surprise Megan and maybe start her thinking about sex a little sooner. It takes a while to get to it in this storyline.”
“Carina, let’s do it the way it’s written, okay?” PJ settled his hat back on his head and tugged the brim down. “We’re building the sexual tension for the big payoff at the right moment. Anything sooner is going to dilute it.”
Carina grimaced. “PJ probably hasn’t gotten laid in years,” she muttered. “What’s he know about sexual tension?”
Bryan chose to ignore her. The thing was, he was feeling like he didn’t know what it was because he was so not into
Carina that she could be a guy for all he cared. Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating, but trying to muster some attraction for her was stretching his acting muscles in a way he hadn’t anticipated. After all, who wouldn’t want to make out with a beautiful woman?
Him, apparently, if the woman wasn’t Beth.
Bryan kept his shirt on, literally and figuratively, worked through Carina’s diva-ness, and they got the scene in the can for the day. Two hours longer than it should have taken them, but at least that one was done. Why had he agreed to do this again? Oh, right. Because working with Carina Dempsey in one of her signature rom-coms was supposed to be good for his career.
He was beginning to question why. Sure, she was Hollywood’s hottest actress right now, but he wasn’t exactly a slouch in the in-demand department. One film with her. That’s all he was doing and then he’d live and die by his own merits. He just hoped he survived this movie because if this was what one scene could do to him, he wasn’t looking forward to the rest.
He should have stayed at Beth’s and finished out his four weeks. Or, hell, stayed at home and cleaned his own place to fulfill Mac’s bet instead of coming here early. What the hell had he been thinking?
You were running. From Beth and the kids and all the ties.
Yeah, he had been. So what? He wasn’t going to apologize for it or be made to feel guilty by his own freaking conscience, for God’s sake. He didn’t want that middle-class life and that was all Beth had to offer. It sucked, but it was what it was. At least he was honest with himself, and with her. Their lives were on different paths.
“Okay, let’s go over blocking for the kitchen scene.” PJ directed the camera crew to swing the cameras from a different angle. “Come on, Bryan, let’s see how good you are in a kitchen.”
He was damn good in a kitchen; just ask Beth.
Of course, he was also damn good in a gazebo and on a back porch, and he’d be absolutely perfect in a bedroom if he could ever get Beth there.
Carina’s fingertips walked up his abdomen. “I’m so looking forward to doing some cooking in the kitchen with you, Bryan,” she said in an almost purr.
He wasn’t saying a word.
“Let’s stick to the script for this one, ’kay, Carina? Then maybe we can wrap early.”
“You want to hang out after? Grab a bite?” She pointedly ignored PJ—and she wasn’t talking about food.
“Thanks, but I’ve got plans.” Like getting right back on a plane. He’d walked out on Beth and the kids for this? What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t. He’d been reacting. To Beth asking him to leave. To running from everything she represented, everything he didn’t want in his life.
Except he wanted Beth.
He wanted her kids.
Shit. He was so fucked. And not the way Carina obviously wanted him to be as she walked around him, dragging her hand across his abdomen. Low on his abdomen.
“What can you possibly have to do that’s more fun than hanging out with me?”
He wasn’t about to remind Carina that they were within an hour’s drive of San Francisco. Not exactly a hole-in-the-wall place. “Things.”
She sucked in her bottom lip. Yeah, getting shot down was definitely a new experience for her. She dropped her hand—right down the front of him, but that would only confirm that he had zero interest in starting anything.
“Okay, then. Guess I’ll find something else to do. And the rest of the time we’re filming together.”
“I think that’s probably best.” He just hoped she was professional enough not to let it cloud their working relationship. Even though she was riding the wave right now, one bomb could damage her marketability; she had to know that. He certainly had no intention of screwing up the film—nor screwing the film’s female lead.
He needed to talk to PJ. The director had rearranged the shooting schedule when he’d shown up early; now Bryan knew why. Anything to keep from having to work one-on-one with Carina. Well, it couldn’t be helped. Contractually, he wasn’t scheduled for another week and he had things he had to sort out back home.
He was going back.
Chapter Thirty-two
LET me get this straight.” Liam handed a slice of pizza to Bryan. “You came back here because of a woman yet you’re here playing cards with us?”
Bryan took a bite of his favorite pizza. No matter how many cities he’d been in—Rome included—nothing compared to Vinny’s Pizza around the corner from the house he’d grown up in. “Uh, yeah.”
“And why did you do this stupid-ass thing?” asked Sean, dealing out the first hand of the night. “I mean, I know we’re bros-before-hos, but if this chick was good enough to turn down Carina Dempsey for, then I say you ought to have your head examined for sitting here with us. I mean, we’re good-looking but we totally bat for the same team you do.”
“Not to mention, we’re related.”
“Yeah, there is that. That’s kinda wrong.”
“Kinda.”
Bryan chuckled. He could always count on his brothers to keep him in line. Nothing like family to bring you back to yourself and not let you get away with shit. Like dropping Carina’s name. There’d been a pair of raised eyebrows, but that was about it.
“So what are you doing sitting here?” Sean looked at his cards. “Ante up while you’re at it.”
“Sure.” Bryan checked his cards. Fours were wild and he had two. With the seven showing, he had three of a kind. Not a bad hand to start out with.
It got better on the next two, as two more sevens showed up. Five of a kind.
So symbolic it was scary. He won the hand with them—his last two cards being a king and queen of hearts and he didn’t need the universe to tell him twice.
He grabbed another piece of pizza, cashed in his chips, and called it an early night. He loved his brothers, but they were right. What was he doing here when the person he wanted to be with was a few miles away?
• • •
BETH turned off the TV. Seriously, she should not be sitting here in the dark with a glass of wine she’d been nursing for the past four hours watching a Bryan Manley movie marathon. Just call her a glutton for punishment.
She glanced at the last text the kids had sent. They’d been happily riding the boardwalk rides, though Maggie said they weren’t as much fun without Bryan around.
A lot of things weren’t as much fun without Bryan around.
She sighed and pulled herself off the sofa, dragging her T-shirt down over her thighs. So much for sexy lingerie. It was a good thing Bryan wasn’t here for that reason alone.
And that was the only reason she could think of that she was glad he wasn’t there.
She picked up the wine glass and the half-eaten bowl of popcorn. Some exciting night this was turning out to be . . .
She let Sherman out. Even the dog wasn’t liking the quietness of the house. He’d taken to following her around like, well, a puppy—in a way he never had even when he’d been a puppy—and even Mrs. Beecham had deigned to curl up on the top of the sofa instead of in Maggie’s dollhouse, as if she wanted to make sure there was someone still in the house.
Was this what it was going to be like when the kids all grew up and left?
Knock it off, Hamilton. You’re still young enough to find someone. When the kids get a little older, they’ll be able to handle you dating.
Well she wasn’t going to find anyone tonight and it was time to call it.
She set the bowl and glass in the sink and let Sherman back in, then put him in his crate. Without Jason to curl up with, the terrier would roam the house looking for his buddy. She’d spent one too many sleepless nights in the past until she’d figured out to put one of Jason’s shirts in the crate and lock him in. Sherman slept like a baby then, and so could she.
“Night, Sherman. Pleasant dreams.” She was talking to the dog about dreams. Maybe she should do something special tomorrow. Spend the whole day at the spa. Drive downtown and see a show. S
omething instead of spending her time moping around the house, looking at the walls, and conversing with the pets.
She turned off the kitchen light and was walking through the darkened family room to the front stairs when the doorbell rang.
She glanced at her cell phone. Ten forty-seven. Who was ringing her doorbell at quarter of eleven on a Friday night?
Kara, wanting to drag her out for a hot night on the town.
Beth headed to the door. It’d serve Kara right for her to answer the door dressed like this.
Only . . . it wasn’t Kara.
Chapter Thirty-three
BRYAN.”
“Hi, Beth.”
It figured. She looked like hell and he looked . . . he looked as gorgeous as ever. Even travel weary in rumpled clothing, Bryan looked amazing.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were filming your movie?”
“I was. And now I’m back.”
He hadn’t moved off her front porch. Hadn’t moved a muscle actually. His hands were in his pants pockets and his head was cocked a little to the right and his feet were firmly planted an inch from the threshold.
She, on the other hand, couldn’t hold still. She was shifting her feet, wringing her hands then putting them on her hips, then behind her back, then crossing them in front of her . . . She couldn’t find a comfortable position. “But . . . why?”
He took a deep breath. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Sure.” She stepped back, thankful that she’d turned off the lights. She didn’t want him seeing her in this stupid old threadbare T-shirt she’d pulled from the bottom of her closet.
“The kids are in bed?”
“Oh. They’re not here. My in-laws took them to the beach this weekend. They’re gone until Sunday night.”
“So you’re alone?”
Beth’s heart rate tripled. She was alone in a dark house, dressed in practically nothing, with Bryan Manley, the man she wanted more than anything, who, if what he’d said on her deck the other night was true, wanted her just as much. “Yes.”