(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  How was this going to work? Where would he put his hands? Where would I put mine?

  My imagination short-circuited. I felt hot and flushed everywhere, just from the idea of him touching me. His body wasn’t chiseled from ice. It couldn’t be and radiate so much heat.

  “You okay?” Cash looked so eager to please. So handsome. His eyes were a bright brilliant aquamarine with pixelated sapphire. Fluid like the ocean. Solid like the gemstone. Soothing somehow, like the sea.

  When I didn’t answer, his brow creased. “You seem a little unfocused. You aren’t going to faint, are you?”

  “Of course not,” I said with a huff.

  He narrowed his eyes on mine. “You don’t eat enough to feed a bird.”

  “Four hundred calories.”

  “What?” His brows rose in confusion.

  “I consumed four hundred calories already today. I can’t have any more food until dinner. I’m on a diet. Olivia’s orders.”

  His expression softened. “You don’t need to be on a diet.”

  “I do,” I insisted.

  “You don’t.”

  “I have to be.”

  “You don’t have to do any such thing.” His amazing eyes danced. “Stubborn girl. Once I get you off this box, I’ll tie you to a chair. Hand-feed you. Make you eat some real food for a change, diet be damned.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  My heart raced as if I’d been chased a great distance. The thought of being restrained by him and his hand going anywhere near my mouth made me dizzy. Unbalanced on my perch, I swayed.

  “I’ve got you.” His hands on my waist, he caught me right before I tumbled. He lifted me into the air, then set me on the floor as if I weighed nothing. Steadying me, his firm grip was an inescapable snare.

  “Thank you.” Something inside me shifted as I peered up at him, and he gazed down at me. I curled my fingers into the polyester-blend lapels of his navy blazer and held on tight. I had to hold on to something. In his arms, I suddenly felt light enough to float away.

  “You have an amazing figure.” His fingers flexed deeper into the fabric at my waist.

  I liked his words and the way his touch made me feel claimed. My skin tingled beneath the sumptuous silk.

  “I need to lose inches,” I said quickly, babbling. “Get in better shape before my next role.”

  “Your shape couldn’t be any better.” Rocks tumbled in his voice. “Don’t change a thing.”

  I spun in a quarry of sensation, the reasoning part of my brain turned to slurry, but then my eyes widened at his words. They were so . . . affirming.

  The space between the beats of my heart seemed to expand. Was the shadow cast by time lengthening? It seemed as though the entire world stopped rotating for a single hushed moment.

  “What?” I pulled in a breath to clear my head, but it only made my thoughts fuzzier. His scent was an intoxicating blend of sandalwood from his cologne, lemon from all the iced tea he drank, and his own unique masculine musk. When combined with the strawberry bath gel Fanny had formulated for me, it made me feel like I was alone with him on a summer picnic.

  “You’re perfect, Hollie.”

  “You’ve been so reserved,” I said in a puzzled whisper. “If you felt this way all along, why not say something before now?”

  “It wouldn’t be professional. But with you looking like you are right now, I had to say something.” His hands glided lower, his thumbs brushing hypnotically back and forth over my hips.

  Heat flared inside me unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. How could a man I’d known for so short a time make me feel so much?

  Gazing into his eyes, I didn’t find an answer, only gentle concern and hesitant compassion.

  “You weren’t what I expected,” he said. “I wasn’t prepared.”

  “Prepared for what?”

  “You.” Beneath the oceanic surface of his eyes, a fire smoldered.

  “I wasn’t prepared either.”

  Had I gotten it wrong? Maybe I was too cynical. Maybe there was hope for something real outside of my insular circle of Hollywood acquaintances.

  “Of course you weren’t. How could you be?” His gaze flared brighter, but with agitation now, it seemed. Not desire. “Because this shouldn’t be happening. It’s wrong.”

  His grip on my waist loosened.

  “What’s wrong about it?” I held on tighter. “It feels right to me.”

  Why did he look so angry? Who was he mad at? Himself or me?

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I like you. Too much. But I can’t.” His features hardened. “We can’t.”

  When his warmth retreated, I felt chilled everywhere but my cheeks, which burned as he firmly set me away from him. I swayed once more, only this time, I had no one to hold on to.

  “All right.” My hands dropped to my sides. “If you say so.”

  “I do, ma’am. Absolutely.” Cash was once again as he had been before. His professional demeanor in place, barriers returned between us.

  My eyes stung. I was accustomed to rejection, of course. I had reasons for my cynicism beyond my childhood. With actors or others in the business, the issue was usually my stepfather. But with my bodyguard, it was just me.

  I curled my fingers tightly into fists, struggling to maintain my poise when met by silence and his steely stare.

  “Hollie!”

  “Ernie!” I turned my head at the sound of his familiar voice.

  My friend waved and grinned at me from the entrance to the bedroom. A return smile wobbled on my face. I hadn’t heard him enter the suite. Disturbingly, neither had my protector.

  The breakdown in my security aside, I’d never been more relieved for an interruption in my life.

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  “You bad girl.” Ernie’s eyes, as brown as milk chocolate, twinkled with mischief as he glanced back and forth between Cash and me. Since my friend arrived, my bodyguard had retreated to a spot by the window, and there he remained.

  “How do you mean?” I gave him a warning look, urging my unpredictable best friend to be careful in his reply. He’d been quiet while Frederick and his assistant had done all they needed to do and left. Ernie had questions, I could tell, and I would answer them, just not while Cash or anyone else was around to overhear.

  “Taking off in the dead of night without telling me, disappearing for weeks on end without a single word.” Ernie had read my unspoken plea correctly and was being purposely vague, recounting details everyone who had seen the press conference would know. “A lot has changed since we spoke last, and yet you’ve left your bestie in the dark, darling.” He pouted. “Are we not best friends and confidants any longer?”

  “You know we are.” I touched his arm, my gaze imploring him for patience and understanding. “It wasn’t safe for you to know everything. I was trying to protect you.”

  “I’m not afraid of your father.” He lifted his chin.

  “Stepfather,” I said, correcting him automatically.

  “Yes, that was as unexpected a revelation as—”

  “You being the designer on the clothes for the photo shoot.” I jumped in, not sure exactly what he’d been about to say. I just knew I didn’t want him to air any of my secrets or Fanny’s. “The dresses were lovely, by the way. It was quite a surprise to find out you designed them.”

  “Fashion is my thing. And you know how much I love my surprises.”

  I nodded. I certainly knew. I loved his high drama and the lavish affection he showered on me. “It’s just that . . .”

  “You’ve probably had enough surprises lately.”

  “Definitely.”

  “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I guess I should have called and made an appointment to see you.”

  “No, that’s not it at all.”

  “I’ve been so upset while you were gone. And I figured you have been too. I wanted to give you a gift. An unexpected gift, me and the dresses to mak
e you smile.” His chin quivered.

  “I’m sorry, Ernie. Forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven. Over and over. You must know I would forgive you nearly anything. Your clothing choices, however.” He clucked his tongue. “The press conference attire?” He shook his head. “That’s another offense entirely.”

  He lifted his finger in the air and wiggled it. “You are the Firelight star, darling. Wielder of the flame. Queen of the cosmos. Presales for your upcoming release have gone through the roof since your disappearance. No one’s bigger or brighter. We’ll make you shine. That’s why when Olivia called, I rushed the designs and sent everything over to the Alluring reps.”

  “Always my champion.” My eyes filled as his did.

  “If you’ll allow me to be. Don’t shut me out.”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “Surely those reasons don’t exist anymore.”

  “Some do.” I turned away from my best friend to find Cash closer than I remembered him being a moment before. “I’m quite safe with Ernie, Mr. Cash.”

  He flinched. I’d not used my bitchy celebrity tone with him before. But he wanted things strictly professional, so that was what they would be.

  “I’d like some privacy to speak alone with my friend.”

  “Yes, of course, Miss Le—”

  “Miss Wood will do.”

  “Miss Wood,” he repeated, fire flickering in his eyes in response to my icy tone before he dipped his head and exited the room.

  Directly behind him, I slid the bedroom door closed and beckoned my friend to the opposite side of the room.

  “What the hell?” Ernie shook his head at me. “No more bullshit. Spill. All of it. Starting with what really happened with Samuel the night you took off, and ending with you telling me what’s going on with you and that man-na from heaven you just sent away.”

  My cheeks immediately flamed.

  “Focus, darling.” He gently turned my chin so I was facing him again. “We can start with the bodyguard, if you want, but I think it will all make better sense if you start at the beginning.” He gathered my hands and squeezed them encouragingly.

  “I missed you.” I stared down at our joined hands, emotion welling up in me.

  “I missed you too. So, why didn’t you call me?” He didn’t try to hide his hurt.

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You didn’t trust me.”

  “Not me. Fanny.”

  “Suspicious bitch.” He shook his head, and not a single strand of his perfectly gelled coppery hair moved out of its artfully tousled place.

  “She’s protective,” I said, frowning.

  “Overly. And jealous of your relationship with me.”

  I shook my head to deny it, and Ernie’s fingers tightened on mine when I would have withdrawn them.

  “She smothers you.”

  I didn’t like anyone to speak badly of my sister. But deep down inside, I acknowledged that he might be a little right. Though I had to take some responsibility for allowing her to smother me.

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “I might.” He let go of my hands and crossed his arms over his chest, reminding me of Cash. “It’s up to you, really.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “I love you.” Ernie’s expression was as solemn as his statement. His eyes glistened with the depth of his emotion. “But part of that love is genuinely caring about your well-being, and you look like you’re about to fly apart.”

  He reached out to gently touch my nose. “Don’t bow up. It’s barely noticeable. You’re a stellar actress, my darling, but it’s there in your stormy gaze. Those who love you and care enough to look deeper than the surface of your beauty can see it. You said in the press conference that Samuel came on to you. That he threatened you. How far did he go?”

  I started to turn away, but when Ernie took my arm and gently turned me to face him again, I said softly, “Too far.”

  I didn’t hold back much. I told him nearly everything.

  Chapter Five

  * * *

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said when Ernie just stared.

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “Like I’m damaged.”

  “How could you not be after what he did,” he pointed out gently.

  “I just feel so stupid.” I sighed, feeling more than stupid.

  I did feel damaged, just like Ernie said. Like there was a heavy weight of shame bearing down on top of me. Much how it had been that night when Samuel pinned me beneath him on the floor of the library.

  I shuddered and quickly returned the memory to the darkest corner of my mind, where it belonged. “I should have seen it coming . . . the increasingly suggestive comments, the derogatory comparisons to my mother, the obsession with my earnings, the pressure to take on more and more roles. But I believed that he was my father, and I couldn’t imagine he would ever physically hurt me.”

  My throat tight, I turned away from Ernie and moved to the window. Looking outside, I focused on the water, wishing it were the soothing rhythmic swells of the ocean. The water seemed to represent many things to me. Cleansing. Freedom. Escape.

  Ernie came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. His touch was warm on my skin and comforting. I relaxed back into him, and he pressed a soft kiss onto the top of my head.

  “I should’ve avoided him, Ernie. I know how he is when he’s been drinking.”

  “Hollie.” He turned me around, and I noticed he’d grown pale beneath his beautiful bronzed skin. “You’re making excuses for him. That’s what abuse victims do.”

  “He didn’t abuse me.”

  “He did. Verbally for years, and physically now, sexually. If Maria . . .”

  “I know,” I said, my voice strained by the burden of my recollections. I might not have been able to stop him if our housekeeper hadn’t come in. “Hart’s team is trying to find her. We need her as a witness. Otherwise, it’ll just be my word against his.”

  The plan was for me to be vague about the details of the assault until we located her and convinced her to testify.

  “You should talk to someone before then. A professional someone, darling.”

  “I just want to forget it ever happened.”

  “It’s not healthy to suppress stuff that huge.”

  “It happened to me.” My spine snapped straight. Anger uncoiled within me, and I lashed out with it like a serpent’s strike. “I choose how to handle it. He doesn’t get to take that away from me. No one does. Not even you.”

  “All right, Hollie. I accept that. For now.” Ernie’s expression was sad but supportive. “So, where do we go from here?”

  “We?”

  “I’m part of your team now, aren’t I? Me and Olivia?”

  “But you’re Saber’s personal stylist.”

  “Was.”

  “You quit?” I asked, my tone incredulous. The three-time Academy-award-winning actress paid him a fortune to be at her beck and call.

  “Yes. I have something better to do.”

  “I can’t pay you what she does.”

  I was setting aside the money I earned before the lawsuit until the outcome of who it belonged to was decided. The legal wrangling could drag on for years. That was why it was so imperative that I return to work soon. I needed to be out from under my stepfather’s dark shadow, and I needed my bank account free and clear of his foulness too.

  “I don’t care about the money, Hollie. I care about you.”

  My heart swelled. “Thank you. You’re my most precious and treasured friend.” I threw my arms around his neck and lightened my tone. “With you on my side, I’ll make the best-dressed list. Win the People’s Choice. Get a Globe. Maybe even an Oscar.”

  “Don’t get carried away. You’re not Shaina Bentley.”

  Ernie drew me close, and I laid my cheek on his hard chest. The fresh scent of his cologne was familiar, his cashmere sweater soft against my skin, his body warm. And his c
omfort was a much-needed balm.

  “Then again . . .” He had a smile in his slightly accented raspy voice. “Maybe the Oscar’s not too big a stretch. It is me dressing you, after all, darling.”

  I lifted my head to look at him and thought, not for the first time, how his partner was a lucky man. Not only was Ernie Caballero a Brazilian hottie, he was also a genuinely good person whose heart was formed of the purest gold. The treasure of who he was shone like a beacon as his lips lifted, his eyes sparkled, and he gave me his blinding double-dimpled smile.

  “I could lose the lawsuit.” I leaned back in his embrace and peered up at him. “I want you with me. I need you with me. But you might want to have a contingency plan, just in case.”

  The bedroom door suddenly slammed open. Startled, I jumped, and Ernie stepped in front of me. Talk of my stepfather had us both on edge, but it wasn’t a threat.

  It was Cash.

  “What’s going on?” I asked my bodyguard over the force of his unanticipated entrance that continued to vibrate inside the wall. “What’s wrong?”

  My supportive best friend found and took my hand. Cash’s gaze dipped to our clasped fingers for a moment.

  “Nothing.” He gritted out the reply through clenched teeth. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  But he didn’t look sorry. What he looked was a little too pleased to have barged in on Ernie and me.

  Was Cash jealous? He had no reason to be, of course. Not that it mattered. Not after earlier, especially, and because of that, I wasn’t in a hurry to correct any misconception about my friendship with Ernie.

  “You have a visitor, Miss Wood.” Cash seemed reluctant to make the announcement, and a reprimand evaporated from my tongue as another male breezed inside my bedroom without permission.

  “This supersized GI Joe needs to go back to remedial training.”

  Carter Besille, the infamous talk show host who oddly resembled a Ken doll dipped in orange dye and not an action figure, wagged his finger in Cash’s direction.

  “He saw my credentials.” Besille put his hands on his narrow hips. He wore stonewashed jeans and a sweater like my bestie, but appeared slovenly in comparison. “Yet he had the gall to tell me I couldn’t come in here. I don’t know—”