“I say you screw Jack by screwing the hell out of Chris. Jack is going to regret ever meeting that skank Brianna Thyme.”
“Sage.” Kate laughed.
“She could be the whole damn Chia-Pet herb garden for all I care. We should just beat that tacky bitch down.”
“Sure, but we’re not back in the neighborhood and I’ve got cameras glued to my face these days. Could you imagine if someone caught us?”
“You know Sabrina’s crazy ass would try to cut her hair off or something.”
“Sabrina is two shakes away from being psychotic. I can’t wait until she finishes film school. I think she likes slasher movies.” Kate giggled.
“That bitch is crazy, but I love her to pieces.”
Kate got out of the car. “Hon, I have to go. Chris is coming over for dinner, and I have to pretend I know how to cook.”
“Romantic night?”
“Something like that.”
“I know this is in the middle of you trying to end things with Jack and I know you are a one relationship at a time kind of woman. But don’t be afraid to have fun with Chris.”
“So don’t take the Hollywood bad boy and make him a straight-laced, boring chump like me?”
“No. He has a wild reputation for a good reason. Let him…take you to some more adventurous places than you’re used to going.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll be back in the studio in a few days. I want to run something by you for that music video I’m doing for your new group—Majestic.”
“Uh, John’s new group Majestic. Sure. Missed working out with you.”
“Cool. That is, if you’re not too sore from riding Chris.”
“Goodbye!”
“Love you!”
“Love you too.” Kate sprinted through the house. She had two hours before Chris would arrive.
* * *
Chris’s cell phone was ringing when he got out of the shower. Darwin was calling.
“Man, you hooked up with Kate Garrison?”
“You gave me drugs to hold for you?”
“I can explain.”
“I almost got busted with that shit, man! It fell on the floor.”
“What?”
“Yeah, and I barely got out of Coriander without getting arrested.”
“You know how much that cost? If you weren’t in the bathroom trying to nail Kate Garrison—”
“I don’t care. You used to be a better friend. That stuff is rotting your brain.”
“I’m sorry, man. I saw somebody in the restaurant who looked like an undercover cop who pinched me one time.”
“So you thought you’d give it to me?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“I can’t have friends I can’t trust.” Chris hung up the phone.
He was having a hard time figuring out what to wear. He normally didn’t invest so much time in getting dressed up, but for some reason he wanted to make a good impression on Kate. The minute he stepped into her office, he wanted her. She was pretty and sweet in a way that didn’t exist in that town anymore.
As he hit the button on the wall for the rotating rack in his closet, his phone rang again. It was Donna.
“Chris, you dick.”
“What did I do now?”
“You slept with me two weeks ago before I left for that shoot, saying you were going to think about our future and I get a text from my roommate saying you hooked up with some music producer bitch and you’re in love.”
“I didn’t make any promises to you the last time we were together.”
“You are such a liar. You said you were getting tired of sleeping around and wanted more.”
He stopped the rotator when he saw the shirt he wanted. He remembered exactly what he told her and was hoping she’d forget it. She had been whining that they’d been insignificant others for a long time and she wanted a commitment. He told her what would get her out of his house and onto the plane for the bit part in a big movie. She was pretty and gave good head, but she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted on a permanent basis. He knew being a cavalier asshole would get him in trouble one these days.
When he didn’t respond, distracted by the hunt for the perfect pair of jeans, Donna continued. “So what is it about her? I’ve seen her and I know she’s not your type.”
“You always assumed you were my type.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I never claimed to be anything more than a man.”
“Too bad.”
“We both know you’ve been screwing James Beck at Mohawk Pictures off and on for years, though I don’t think his wife knows. You weren’t looking for something real with me.”
“I—”
“Didn’t know I knew? Darling, I know everything; that’s why I’m still single. And that’s why someone like Kate Garrison appeals to me. She might be the one person in this town who doesn’t play games.”
“Jack Pierce wouldn’t agree.”
“No.” Chris finally found the pair of jeans he was searching for. “He would not agree. Goodnight.”
Chris threw his cell on the bed. He had just enough time to get his clothes on and fly out the door.
* * *
Kate opened the door to see Chris holding a bouquet of flowers that paled in comparison to the stunning blue of his sparkling eyes.
She had found herself staring into her closet when she got home, trying to decide what to wear. For a brief moment, she felt as though she were getting ready for a first date, not strategizing a deception. She opted for a short jean dress.
Chris was wearing a pair of jeans and a black dress shirt. The beard and those damn piercing eyes still gave him a touch of a civilized thug despite the business casual attire.
“Thank you.” She smiled and motioned for him to come inside.
“Your place is fucking awesome.” He surveyed the beach house.
“Thanks. I told the realtor I was looking for fucking awesome when I was house hunting.” She laughed.
Chris took the bouquet from her. “Where’s the kitchen?”
Kate led him to the kitchen and found a vase for the bouquet. She sat perched on a kitchen stool while Chris cut the stems and arranged them for her.
“You’re pretty good at that.”
“My sister Pam is a florist. She says there’s no greater crime than a bad floral arrangement.”
“Ah. How many sisters and brothers do you have?”
“Wine?”
“In the fridge.”
Chris opened the fridge and got a bottle of wine. He spotted a cabinet and retrieved two wine glasses and the bottle opener. He sat on a stool as he uncorked the wine. “I have four sisters and two brothers. My mother, Anna Beth, is an assistant principal. My dad, David, is in real estate.”
“Big family.”
“I hear you have a big family as well.”
“Five brothers, all older than me, all in law enforcement. Mother, Abigail, is a psychologist and my dad, Mitchell, is former military but is now a private security contractor.”
“So you’re the baby in a family of gun-toting men?”
“Yep. Change your mind yet?” She sipped her wine.
“No.” He laughed. “But what was on Jack’s mind? Does he have a death wish?”
“I don’t know what was on his mind, but I do know what was on his penis.”
“So.” Chris swigged his wine. “President of a record label at twenty-seven. Impressive.”
“Music is my life.” She shrugged.
“I was really surprised at the variety of the talent you have. There is no one genre.”
“I like to mix it up. I love hip-hop, rhythm and blues, and pop. But I am also a hard-core rock, jazz, alternative, and country music fan.”
“All-time favorite artist?”
“It’s a tie. Sting and Stevie Wonder.”
“Wow, two ends of the spectrum. Why those two?”
“Their music and lyrics tell stor
ies. Beautiful stories weaved together by musical notes. Listening to them is more than listening to a great tune; it’s about being drawn into the story they are telling. Very few artists can do that. Tell a good, poignant story with their lyrics.”
“Wow. I just listen to the music and maybe the hook will catch me. I like loud music. Lots of guitar and drums.”
“Favorite song?”
“That’s easy. ‘Plush.’ Stone Temple Pilots.”
“I like the way you think, Cavanaugh.” She winked and lifted her glass toward him. “So listening to music is an adrenaline rush to you?”
“I never thought about it, but I do feel invigorated after listening to Seether or Linkin Park.”
“Good examples. Music can take you through a range of emotions and even help you purge them. You ever notice how a song can uplift you to the point you feel as though you’re floating? Like you grabbed onto one of the musical notes and are getting carried away. A lot of contemporary jazz makes me feel that way. And some music is so heavy, you feel like you’re dredging through mud. That helps you reach down to excavate whatever demons lie in your soul. Good rock and metal can do that too.”
“Intriguing observations.”
“Same with individual instruments. I like to use drums and bass guitars as anchors. Violins and cellos elevate. The piano sounds more neutral to me. You can manipulate it into any direction you want. High or low.” Kate’s eyes gleamed.
“Music is your life. You live and breathe it.”
“I try. I even sing a bit.”
“When did that begin?”
“My mother says I came out of her womb humming a tune.”
“And all I do is act.”
“You’re a very good actor. And that’s not bullshit. Jack is an ass, but he saw what I saw. That’s why he wanted you.” She touched his hand. “There are layers to your acting ability. I think it gets deeper each time you take a more challenging role. You’re subtle about it, but you seem to change with each movie you make. You have a bright future.”
Chris smiled and glanced toward the floor. “Thank you.”
Damn, he had a beautiful smile. She was excited by the lively conversation about music, but she really wanted to reach over and take a bite of the deliciousness that the man embodied. She was on the verge of joining his fan club—though nowadays it was liking someone’s Facebook page or following him on Twitter. Keeping a scrapbook of Chris Cavanaugh tucked under her bed when she was a kid would definitely have been worth it.
She bumped her glass against his chest. “Want to see the rest of my humble abode?”
* * *
The layout of the beach house reminded Chris of a panoramic photo. There was nothing humble about it. Every angle of the house had a view of the ocean. He hung back while she guided him through the house. He found it hard to resist watching her long legs as her short dress swayed back and forth. Clearly the woman was passionate about her life’s work, but would she be just as passionate in bed? He listened to her and drank his wine like a good little boy, but the same urge was kicking in like the one he had in front of the restaurant. He needed to touch her. Now all he had to do was hit on her without it seeming creepy. She had the height and build of a ballerina. The next room she escorted him to was her dance studio. So he was right about her being a dancer.
“I used to dance as a kid, and now I use it as a form of exercise and relaxation.”
“I bet you were an adorable ballerina.”
“Are you kidding me? I was so cute it was sickening.” She gave a quick plié.
“Nothing’s changed.” He pulled her closer to him.
Tonight she looked content. She wasn’t anxiety riddled as she had been when she walked into the men’s room the night before. She didn’t have any makeup on, and she had a natural glow to her brown skin. She was like a hot cup of cappuccino with frothy foam on top.
She looked up at him, scanning his face. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have the most hypnotic eyes?”
“Am I putting you in some kind of trance?” He was standing so close now that his lips were moving against hers. He couldn’t control himself. One minute he was looking at her ballet studio and then the smell of lilac or something fragrant bombarded his senses. She smelled so good. Now wasn’t the time to tell her that he thought a woman who was limber was a good thing.
Images of her wearing a pair of stilettos and those stilettos dangling over his shoulders were coming in sharp and fast like an eight-millimeter movie. He steadied her as they kissed. A deep penetrating kiss, one that put the phony kiss in front of the restaurant to shame. She responded and moaned softly as his tongue continued a thorough inspection of her mouth. She slid her hands around his waist and finally onto his ass.
He had her pressed firmly against the studio wall. He glided his hands up her thighs and underneath her dress until he reached her satin bikini briefs. He ran his thumbs along the waistband, and she moaned again.
“Kate.” He could barely speak as he unzipped his jeans with his free hand. He reached for his wallet before his jeans fell, pulled out a condom, and then threw the wallet on the floor. Chris suited up as quickly as he could and then lifted Kate higher until their bodies met in a heated frenzy. “You’re so damn pretty.”
* * *
Kate wasn’t able to speak. Chris’s facial hair rubbing against her face felt like a gentle massage. Each time he thrust inside her, she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist. She felt as though an electric current were running through her. He smelled good, and, damn, he was a good kisser. Their bodies quickly found a rhythm as Chris continued to plunge into her. This was crazy! She barely knew him. But their bodies were in communication in an old and familiar way. Chris tore his mouth from hers and slid his lips to her neck. He nuzzled her for a moment, then applied more pressure and used his teeth to sink into the skin of her neck. It was a little painful, yet primal. She felt as though he were putting his mark on her. Would she look as if she’d been mauled by a tiger instead of six foot two future action movie god? His hands gripped her thighs, and his breathing became even heavier.
“Chris.”
“Again. Say my name again.”
“Chris.”
He smiled amid his panting.
“Chris.”
Chris plunged into her three mores before he gave up the pretense of being a gentleman. Kate just held on for dear life and rode out the storm with him.
* * *
Kate showed Chris the way to the bathroom, and they cleaned up in silence. Back in the living room, she was still at a loss for words. Had she officially been a “bad girl”? She caught him staring at her. Perhaps she’d been silent too long.
“That was amazing,” he said.
She tried to smile. “And unexpected.”
“I didn’t plan that by the way. Just so you know.”
She gave him a skeptical look.
“I’m serious. I’m very attracted to you. That’s why I kissed you in front of the restaurant. I didn’t know if it was a good idea, I just knew I had to do it. And I’m glad I did.” He walked closer to her.
“I don’t do…what we just did.”
“I’ve got to disagree. I think you do it and quite well. I almost came the second I put my—”
“OK, OK.”
“We just mauled each other against a wall in your dance studio and you can’t say the words? You need to relax. Just imagine what you’ll do when you do an instant replay in your mind.”
“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes.
“It’s not like this is some crazy one-night stand and you don’t know if you’re ever going to see me again. I’m moving into your house.”
She bit her lip.
“Changing your mind?” He drew his brows together.
“I think this is all moving too fast.”
“What? Real life? Because I declared my love for you on national TV about seven hours ago. So according to that timeline, we’ve already had sex se
veral times.” He relaxed his face into an easy smile.
“I’d slap you but I don’t have the energy right now.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You would.”
“Did you enjoy what we just did?”
She thought about it for a moment. “Yes.”
“Imagine how much fun we can have if you drop the self-imposed Catholic-school guilt trip?”
She gazed into Chris’s eyes and saw something warm and inviting. She met him just yesterday, but after being in Jack’s world for such a short time, she felt as though she’d known him for so much longer. She had seen one of his movies. He was engaging and charming but held back a bit in the role. She was sure The Knock-Around Boys was going to be a career turning point for both him and Jack. If they could survive the fallout, they could both get what they wanted.
A bark came from the direction of the deck.
Kate made her way over there, opened the glass doors, and was greeted by Merlot. “Hey, Merlot. Say hello to Chris.”
“Merlot?” He laughed.
“One of his parents is a wine enthusiast.”
“Hey, Merlot. How’s it hangin?” Chris bent down and rubbed the dog on the head. Merlot sat patiently, wagging his tail.
“He likes you. He hated Jack.”
“Dogs are great judges of character.”
“I am one of Merlot’s parents. My neighbors Marvin and Clara are his other parents.”
“Merlot here knows I have no intentions of harming you or making you sad. He just wants to know I’m not trying to ship him off to doggie boarding school.”
“Merlot kind roams back and forth anyway, so one day we made it official over a bridge game. How about I introduce you to them tomorrow?”
“Sounds good.”
“So I will bring my things over tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m going home to pack a few things.” He gave her a quick kiss and grabbed his car keys off the end table. “Will we be sharing the same bed? For appearance’s sake?”
She thought about it for a moment. “I have three guest rooms. Take your pick.”
Star Crossed Page 3