“You work here?” he says. The sound of his smooth voice startles me. When I look at his face again, I see he’s giving my clothes a once-over with a raised eyebrow.
“No,” I whisper. I blush and clear my throat when he gives me a peculiar look. “I don’t work here. I’m just helping.” He nods and looks around the small closet. He steps deeper into the room. “The bathroom isn’t in here,” I blurt.
He pauses and laughs. “Yeah, I can see that. Phoenix Castle.” He sticks his hand out. I’m instantly annoyed. It’s the way he said his name, like I’m supposed to swoon over him. “You are?”
“Not interested,” I deadpan. That’s not the complete truth. I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing what I think about him or about how nervous I am.
He raises his eyebrows, presumably out of show. I get the feeling my response to his charms isn’t the normal reaction he gets from women.
“That’s a unique name,” he jokes. Despite myself, I smile.
“Caroline Taylor,” I finally say.
“Now that’s a pretty name,” he says while taking a step closer. With him standing this close to me, the amazing scent of his cologne drifts in my nose and my senses go into overdrive.
He doesn’t scare me, but I still find myself wanting to take a step back. The only thing that stops me is I know I have nowhere to go.
“Hey, what’d the wine bottle ever do to you?” Phoenix asks. He pries the bottle out of my hands.
My heart begins to pound and a whooshing sound echoes in my ear when he takes the bottle and sets it on the shelf behind me. It was a seemingly innocent gesture, but it brought him close, so close that every time I take a breath, my breasts brush against his chiseled chest.
I can feel the heat of his stare and I make the grave mistake of looking up into his eyes. His curious gray eyes are now molten lava. I make another mistake when I poke out my tongue to lick my suddenly dry lips.
As soon as Phoenix tracks that movement with his eyes, he’s lowering his head. I do something that isn’t me, something I wouldn’t ever dream of doing. I close my eyes and lean toward him.
“Hey, darling, you almost done in here?” Violet says as she opens the door to the closet. Mortified, I turn to her and see her smirking. “Oh shite, sorry!”
What the hell am I doing? About to make out with a tattooed stranger, that’s what.
I’m so embarrassed that I don’t make eye contact with Phoenix or Violet before rushing out of the closet. I’m only a few steps out of the closet when I run into someone.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” I blurt once I catch my footing. I look up to see who I ran into. She’s a very tall, very thin, and very blonde woman. And she’s not happy.
“Watch where you’re going. You spilled my drink all over me!” she screeches.
I look down at the white shirt she’s wearing and see literally a drop of wine from her glass on her. Dramatic much? Unfortunately, before I can think better of it, I say, “Seriously? You have one drop on you,” I mutter.
She throws the rest of her wine in my face. Now it’s my turn to screech.
“Bitch,” she hisses. Just like in the movies, the whole pub goes silent. I’m speechless. I’ve never been treated like this, much less by a stranger.
As if being humiliated in front of a room full of strangers wasn’t bad enough, Phoenix and Violet choose this moment to walk out of the back hall. “What the fuck is going on here?” he roars when he sees my wine-drenched face and blouse.
He comes to stand between the girl and me after grabbing a towel off the bar. “She pushed me, baby,” the blonde whines in a nasally voice. Girlfriend. The asshole has a girlfriend and he was two seconds away from kissing me in that closet.
“Are you okay?” Phoenix asks sincerely and holds out the towel for me. I don’t take it and I don’t answer him. I’m too busy looking at all the patrons who are staring at me.
My eyes water with hot, embarrassed tears and all I want to do is get out of this bar and back in the comfort of my own home. Without another word to anyone, I rush out of the pub.
“Caroline, wait!” I hear Phoenix call to my back as soon as I’m on the street, hailing a cab.
“Look, I’m sorry about your girlfriend. It was an accident,” I choke out.
“Hey!” he says softly before grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him. “Marcy is not my girlfriend. She’s a bitch and I’m not out here because of her. I’m out here to check on you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need to get home.”
“Okay, then let me take you home.”
“No!” I say a little too forcefully. “I can take a cab.”
“Okay.” It’s easy to see that he’s disappointed with my answer. “Well, can I have your number?”
I hesitate to answer before finally lying and saying, “I don’t have a phone. Sorry.”
I climb in the cab before he can say anything. This night has confirmed why I don’t go out and meet new people. Even so, I can’t bring myself to regret meeting him.
A little part of me knows this won’t be the last I’ll see of Phoenix Castle.
Chapter Three
Some Big. Some Small. Some Impossible.
“I’m sorry, but the library is closed,” I call over my shoulder from my desk when I hear the door open.
“I was wondering if you have a chance to talk?”
I recognize that smooth, rumble of a voice. It’s not a voice I expected to hear today…or any day, for that matter, so I jump up and out of my seat in a rush, knocking over my tea in the process.
“Bloody hell!” I grab the nearest thing to me—a stack of mail—and start mopping up the liquid. I’m so focused on using the mess I made as an excuse to not look at Phoenix, I haven’t noticed he walked across the library and now stands in front of me until he starts speaking again.
“Do you need any help?”
I inwardly groan when I realize I have to actually talk to him. I’d like to say I haven’t thought about Phoenix or the embarrassing incident at the pub all weekend, but that would make me a liar.
In truth, he and that embarrassing moment are all I’ve thought about, so much so I’ve convinced myself Phoenix wasn’t as good looking as I built him to up to be.
Looking at him now, I can say that he’s as sexy now as he was in that closet. He’s doing crazy things to my mind and body.
“I got it,” I finally answer after I get my brain to function again. I throw all the ruined mail away. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to apologize again for what happened the other night. Marcy can get a bit out of hand—”
“Listen, it’s okay,” I interrupt. What happened with Marcy was humiliating enough the first time around. I don’t want to relive it. “Like I said, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to run into your girlfriend, and I’m sorry she spilled her drink.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says, frustrated. “She’s a groupie, not my girlfriend.”
“Well, like I said, I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me.” I grab a stack of returned books and head toward the children’s section, silently dismissing him.
I hate to admit a little part of me is disappointed in his reason for tracking me down. The hopeless romantic in me wanted to hear he couldn’t get me out of his mind, that he had trouble concentrating on anything and everything like I did.
The more I dwell on the thought he only came by because he feels bad, the more I convince myself that he probably thinks I’m some helpless nerd. It’s true, though. I spend more time surrounded by books than people. My last relationship was with Branson Tucker, a cowboy in an amazing book called Change Rein by Anne Jolin.
Outwardly, I’m the shy, nerdy girl everyone portrays me to be. On the inside, though, there’s a different part of me, a part who wants to explore, try new things, meet new people, fall in love, and just live.
“Do you want to have dinner?” Phoenix asks. My tho
ughts come to an abrupt stop.
I could not have heard what I think I just heard, right? “What?”
If the grin tugging on his lips is any indication, I know I must have a shocked expression on my face, one he finds amusing.
“I asked you to dinner.”
I guess I did hear what I thought I heard, but why? Phoenix can have any girl he wants. I mean, I’m having a hard time breathing and all he’s done is smile at me.
Oh my God, what if that’s what he wants? To sleep with me? “I’m not sleeping with you,” I practically scream in the guy’s face.
He takes a step back with wide eyes before a megawatt smile covers his face. “I promise no sex, just food.” I ignore my core tightening at the word sex and study him suspiciously.
Dinner sounds okay. What’s the worst that could happen? We’ll have dinner and then go our separate ways. It has to be better than going home to watch a Jersey Shore rerun.
“Fine. I know a great place,” I say with pretend confidence. I’m trying to look like this is no big deal, like I get asked out by sexy lead singers all the time. I button my jacket and head for the door.
“You wanna go now?” he asks.
“Yep.”
“We should hail a cab. I brought my bike, but I gotta be honest, I don’t think you’ll be able to climb on the back of it in that skirt, sweetness,” he says seductively. I turn around. Just like I predicted, his eyes are glued to my ass.
Like he can feel the heat of my stare, his eyes shoot up to mine. I quickly turn back around to hide my blush. Shouldn’t he be the one who’s embarrassed? “We don’t need a cab. It’s right over here.”
Phoenix runs to catch up to me. We cross the street to get to the park across from the library. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow when he sees I’ve stopped at a food truck.
“You want to eat here?” he asks in disbelief.
“Is the sexy lead singer too good for a sandwich from a food truck?” I tease with a raised eyebrow.
The smile I was wearing vanishes when Phoenix’s eyes do that molten lava thing and he takes a step into my personal space. He leans in like he’s going to kiss me. My breathing seizes.
Disappointment and relief sweep through me when his lips go to my ear. “You think I’m sexy?”
Did I call him sexy? Oh crap, I called him sexy! “No!” I burst out. I want to throw up when I realize what I just said. First I call him sexy, then I insult him. This innocent dinner is not going well.
I finally exhale when Phoenix throws his head back and laughs. He throws his arm over my shoulder and tucks me into his side. “Let’s get some sandwiches, sweetness.”
We get our dinner and start walking around the big pond in the middle of the park.
“Tell me about yourself,” Phoenix orders.
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, all I know now is that your name is Caroline Taylor and you own the library.”
“How do you know that, by the way? I don’t remember telling you all that in the closet the other night.”
“One guess.” He smiles.
“Violet.” Not a question. It’s a statement. After all, she’s the one on this campaign to make me more adventurous.
“Bingo. So, tell me about Caroline Taylor.”
“What do you want to know?” I repeat.
“For starters, tell me where you’re from. I know that sexy accent you have isn’t Irish.”
“You’re correct. I’m from England. I moved here when I was eighteen. You don’t have an Irish accent either. Where are you from?”
“I’m from the States. My turn. Why’d you move to Lishoy?”
My steps falter at his questions. I’ve only been asked that question once before and I lied through my teeth, but something about this situation, something about Phoenix, makes me want to tell the truth.
“That’s a loaded question with a long answer,” I warn.
“I have the time.”
“Okay, well, I grew up with a preacher as a father. Religion wasn’t just our belief. It was a way of life. I had to dress a certain way, act a certain way. I hated it. I couldn’t wait to get out of that house and away from my dad. I read a book about Ireland and knew this is where I wanted to go. Lishoy was as far as I got before I ran out of money. I guess I just wanted an adventure, to try the things I never got to do but always wanted to.”
There’s a moment of silence. I lower my head out of embarrassment. Finally, he asks, “Did you ever get your adventure?”
“It’s my turn to ask a question,” I respond. I don’t want to answer that question. What would I say? No, I never got my adventure because the first guy I decided to be spontaneous with ended up crushing me? Not a chance.
Phoenix holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Ask away.”
“Why are you in Lishoy?”
Phoenix looks out over the pond and sighs. “I need a break. I love singing with my band, but I’m tired. It’s the same thing day in and day out. Same faces, same routine. I will always love singing. It’s who I am, but I felt like I was losing my mind. So, against my manager Mick’s wishes, I came here for a vacation.”
“If you’re on vacation, why were you singing at the pub the other night?”
Phoenix laughs, a humorless one. “Mick likes money. My turn. Did you ever get your adventure?” And we’re back to the question I both don’t want to answer and do want to answer.
I think for a minute before answering honestly, “No. No, I never got my adventure.”
“Do you still want it?” He stops walking and turns to me with a playful grin. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Phoenix has some kind of power. Every time I look into his gray pools, I feel him take hold of me and I have a hard time uttering anything but absolute truths.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“What would you do on this journey?”
A small laugh escapes me. “I have a list. Well, a mental one, at least, of all the things I want to try.”
“Tell me them,” he orders softly. I blush.
“No.” I laugh. “I’m sure to a big rock star like you, it would sound ridiculous.”
“Are they big adventures?”
“Some big. Some small. Some impossible.”
“Tell me them,” he repeats.
“Okay…I want to smoke a cigarette.”
Phoenix’s eyes widen in shock. “You’ve never smoked a cigarette? I don’t believe that.”
“I haven’t!” I insist.
“Okay, what else?” He laughs.
“I want to get drunk.” I giggle when his eyes bulge again, but I continue speaking. “I want to get a tattoo. Take a road trip to nowhere. I want to go skinny-dipping and sing in front of a crowd. I want to climb the highest mountain I can find just so I can scream at the top of my lungs. I want to take a hot air balloon ride and ride a roller coaster. I want…”
I trail off when I realize that I’ve let my thoughts get away from me. I tilt my head curiously when I see Phoenix looking at me with an expression I can’t decipher.
He finishes my sentence for me, “You want to live.”
A feeling I haven’t had in so long begins to take root inside me. Hopefulness. Hope that maybe I’ve found someone who finally understands me.
“I want to live,” I confirm.
“Well, then, let’s go have an adventure.” Phoenix grabs my hand. I dig my heels into the ground.
“What?”
“Let’s go get your adventure,” he says with a huge smile.
“I don’t understand,” I reply because honestly I don’t.
He sighs and stands directly in front of me. “Look, you just gave me a list of things you want to try but you were never brave enough to. Well, I’m Phoenix Castle and I’m about to be your tour guide on this amazing fucking ride you’re about to take.”
“But…but I don’t even know you!” I practically shout. This whole conversation is so surreal.
“Not yet, but by
the time we complete that list, you will.”
“I’m not sleeping with you!” I remind him. I’m starting to wonder if I’m reminding him for his benefit or mine.
I grin when he throws his head back and laughs. “Is everything about sex with you?”
I blush.
“Listen, I’m not doing this to get in your pants. Fuck, I don’t even know why I’m doing this. For some reason, I just want to be the one to help you with this. No sex.”
I can feel my eyebrows scrunch out of curiosity and sadness. I know it was a long shot to think that Phoenix would be interested in anything more than a friendship with me, but it sucks to hear the words.
“What do you say, birdie? Wanna go on an adventure with me?”
“Yes.”
Chapter Four
Almost There, Birdie. Get Ready To Fly.
The doorbell rings. While trying to get to the front door, I stumble over a forgotten shoe. I swing it open and, to my surprise, see Phoenix standing on the other side of it.
After I agreed to him being my adventure tour guide yesterday, he got a phone call from his manager and had to leave. I gave him my phone number, but deep down I never expected to see or hear from him again, especially not at seven-thirty the next morning.
“Hi.”
“Good morning, beautiful.” He smiles. Have I mentioned how amazing his smile is? Because it is. “Mind if I come in?” I nod my head and blush when I realize I’ve just been staring at the man.
“Oh, sure.” I move aside so he can walk in. I know my house is small, but with his huge, domineering presence, my living room looks like a closet. I anxiously watch as he takes in his surroundings. I can only imagine what he’s thinking. I don’t decorate like a grandma, but my design scheme isn’t what one would call modern either.
“Nice pad,” he eventually says.
My eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Pad?”
“House. Nice house.” He chuckles.
Love, Unwanted (Discovering Love #3) Page 2