by Taylor Hart
“You so watch my movies.” It felt like an accomplishment.
“Only on a bad day when I want to forget the world. That one’s my favorite.”
“That’s the best compliment I’ve ever had.” And he meant it.
Gently, she kissed him.
As he got lost in the kiss, he knew he wanted to help this woman forget her problems forever. “I think I might be falling for you, Polka Dot.”
“You can’t,” she whispered, smiling.
He played with her hair, running his fingers through it. “Too late. I already have.”
Chapter 18
How had she ended up, within less than seventy-two hours of meeting Grant Kent, snuggled up in a chair that felt like it would fall apart, wrapped in Grant’s arms with blankets surrounding them? And how did it feel so perfect?
They’d chosen to watch the cult classic What about Bob? They were at the scene where Bob followed the family up to their vacation cabin and taught the kid how to swim and the doctor looked mad enough to explode. Both she and Grant laughed their heads off when the doctor pushed Bob into the lake.
“Oh my gosh, Bill Murray never gets it wrong,” Grant said. He had one arm around her and was leaning back, holding a piece of red Twizzlers in his hand. He paused after taking a bite of the licorice before holding it out to her.
She grinned and took it. “Thanks.”
He nodded and plucked another one from the bag. “No problem.”
She marveled at the fact that all of this, being here with him, felt so natural. “I would think you wouldn’t eat licorice and pizza.”
He scoffed. “I eat well eighty percent of the time, and twenty percent of the time I don’t. It works for me because I have to have some junk food sometimes.”
She liked that he wasn’t obsessed with his body the way she imagined a lot of actors were—not that his body wasn’t amazing. It made him feel like a real person. She held up one of the Almond Joys she’d bought earlier. “Want some?”
He scoffed. “Naw, chocolate will kill you.”
“Chocolate is life.”
“Is chocolate a deal-breaker in a relationship with you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Swiftly, he took a bite of the Almond Joy she held out. He chewed, scrunching up his face. “I guess you’re worth it.”
Lightly, she punched him in the shoulder.
They munched on their snacks in contentment and watched the movie.
Her thoughts went to the two failed attempts to find her birth mom. She thought about the possibility that she might not like what she found when she finally did meet her. Even though she’d known this was always a possibility, she still had to try. She had to.
Grant paused the movie. “What’s up, buttercup?” He stuffed another piece of licorice into his mouth.
Not bothering to tell him she didn’t like that nickname either, she shrugged. “Just watching.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Why are you paying such close attention to me?”
Sitting up, he met her gaze. “If you haven’t noticed, Jewel, I’ve been paying pretty close attention to you since that first day at the high school. In fact, I haven’t been able to get you out of my inner perimeter.”
She smiled at the obvious Secret Service language he was using. “What does that even mean?”
Narrowing his eyes, he tipped his head to the side. “I think you’re only asking me that question because you don’t want to answer my question.”
“No. Okay, honestly, you were so amazing today at the ski resort.” It touched her that he had made their relationship public at such a huge cost to him. It also confused her.
“Well, I had to catch you. You were falling.” He trailed a hand down her arm, and her skin tingled where he touched it.
She let out a rumbly breath. “No, you kind of threw yourself in front of me, like you were protecting me.”
His face went blank, and he was silent for a moment. Then he took her hand. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
How would she tell him that when he’d acted back there, when he’d literally thrown his body over hers, she’d realized that this guy—who she had thought was just Hollywood—was more giving and real than anyone she’d ever met?
“What?” He reached out and took a tendril of her hair, twirling it slowly.
Every part of her lit up. “I know you don’t like talking about your time in the Secret Service. I know you had crap happen to you, but,” she said, staring his amazing eyes, “I heard once that every bad thing has a good seed in it.”
He processed what she was saying. “Even your situation?”
Dang, that caught her off guard. He was sneaky. “We’re talking about you.”
He grinned. “That’s your non-mentionable.”
She sighed. It felt like he already knew her so well. “But I’ve shared it all with you.”
“True. And I’m glad you did.”
Unable to stop herself, partly because she wanted to know him better, she pressed, “Can you tell me about it?”
His jaw went stiff. “It didn’t happen to me. It happened to the president’s family. It happened to that little girl. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
She wished she could show him how remarkable he was. How all the pain that he held inside of him made him vulnerable and beautiful. “I’ve seen the footage. You threw your body over Elsie. You took a bullet for her.” Gently, she put her hand on his right shoulder. “Here, right?”
He stiffened. “Right.”
Leaning in, she moved his shirt and kissed the scar she’d seen the night before in the hot tub.
He sucked in a breath. “Please …” He turned away.
She held his face and pressed her lips to his, wanting to heal him somehow.
They both got lost in the kiss.
Finally, he pulled back, sucking in a breath and shaking his head. “Woman, you’re going to undo me.”
She put her hand back on his shoulder.
He blinked and put his hand over hers. “It happened so fast. The president was speaking. His family was behind the pulpit. I was stationed directly behind them. When the shots went off, I rushed in front of the family, but I was too late.”
Jewel hummed in thought, feeling the attraction surge between them. “I don’t need to say this because I think you already have a big head, but you’re kind of amazing.”
His eyes misted. “Hey, it means a lot coming from you.”
The moment moved in slow motion as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh.
“That’s when you got out of the Secret Service.”
His eyes flashed open, and she saw the same vulnerability in his eyes she’d seen when he’d begged her for a date the second time. “For my whole life, I’d been focused on being in the Secret Service. When I failed at keeping her safe—” His voice broke. “I just had to do something else, become something else.” He linked his fingers through hers.
She nodded, imagining a younger Grant Kent, sworn to protect the president and his family and being devastated when he failed.
He focused on her hand. “I kinda lost it a little bit mentally. Will had just gotten done with his service in the Navy, and he helped me a lot. Helped me find my way out of a dark mental place.”
The realness of his emotion was what the screen liked about Grant Kent. Strike that: it was what she liked about him. He was a gentleman. He had honor. He was a bit broken, too. Despite all of his time in Hollywood, underneath it all, he had problems just like everyone else.
Meeting her eyes, he leaned in and brushed his lips to hers. “What are you thinking now, Polka Dot?”
She sighed. It broke the tension, but she still had to say it: “I really hate that nickname.”
“I know.” His head dipped to the side, his lips moved back to hers, and his hand cupped the back of her head.
Allowing herself to let go, she deepened t
he kiss. Then he was kissing her neck and down her hairline, leaving a trail of warmth along her skin. His lips came back to hers, and she tasted licorice and felt the emotion radiating off this man.
Pulling back, she grinned. “You’re not a fake, Grant Kent.”
He let out a breath, and the side of his lip turned up. “Thank you.”
“Tell me more about your time in the Secret Service.”
“No, let’s just kiss some more.”
She let him get away with it, giving in to the kiss. Giddy happiness overcame her, and she giggled.
He kissed up her jawline to her ear. “You think that’s funny?”
Unable to stop herself, she giggled even harder. “Stop.” When he tickled her beneath the arms, her body contorted. “Stop!” she shrieked, loving it.
“You asked for it. Kissing’s the only thing that makes me stop tickling.”
His lips found hers again. Sigh. Swoon. Grant Kent did not disappoint in the kissing department. He deepened the kiss, and she found herself falling for him on so many levels. She didn’t know how long they made out, but when things started getting more intimate, she pulled back. “Grant, I can’t.”
Hesitating only briefly, he nodded. “You’re right. We shouldn’t.” He frowned. “Wait, why shouldn’t we?”
She laughed. “Because I don’t even know you. And because … I’m waiting.”
“Oh. Like waiting for the right time, the right guy …” He trailed off.
“Like waiting for marriage.”
That seemed to stump him.
She let out her breath. “It’s a promise I made to myself when I was twelve years old, sitting in church classes. A promise I made to God, and I don’t break my promises.”
Dumbfounded, he slid back from her and raked a hand through his hair. “Well, okay, then.”
Her mind was clearing. “Okay.” Once again, she wasn’t sure what he would do.
“Another reason to admire you, Polka—” He caught himself. “Not Polka Dot.”
She let out a light laugh.
He kissed the back of her hand. “All right, I guess we are Amishly courting or something.”
This made the center of her chest feel warm. “I guess.”
“So what should we do, then?”
At a loss, she shrugged and pushed back farther from him. “Nothing.”
“Then I talk Secret Service.” He winked at her. “Only because you’re important to me.”
The way he said it all official-like made her happy. “Okay.”
Grant pulled out a piece of licorice and ripped it into pieces. He put the tiny one in the center. “This is the mark.” Then he put bigger pieces around the little one. “The inner perimeter.” He put pieces farther out, then farther still. “The middle perimeter. The outside perimeter.” He pointed to the outside ones. “This is where you should disable most threats to the mark.”
“Who is the mark?” she asked.
“Whoever is being guarded. As you know, I guarded the president.” Moving on, he pointed back to the outside licorice that was set up in a circle. “The outside perimeter should take care of most crazies. This is where there are outside barriers that prevent people from getting to the mark. For example, the White House has concrete barricades now, and it has police. Backing up the police, it has army guys with machine guns.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, watching as he pointed out different licorice pieces.
“So when some idiot who thinks they should have access to the president because—” He threw up his hand. “—name any stupid reason: they’re distant cousins, the president went to school with him, they vehemently disagree about their policies, they believe the president shouldn’t be the president … I could go on forever. Anyway.”
She liked seeing this side of Grant Kent. The serious, protective one.
“So they hit the outer perimeter,” he said, pointing to the outside. “And they usually don’t get through. Now,” he said, biting off two little pieces, “there are always sneaky beavers who get through the outer perimeter. There’s this famous couple who sneaks into a lot of presidential rallies. They skate in with press passes, or they find the people who have the right pins on their jackets.”
“Pins?” This was new to her.
He nodded. “Pins on the jackets tell us who should have access to what. They sneak through, and they get pictures with political people. They have pictures with the presidents for the last twenty years. It’s kinda comical.” The side of his lip turned up. “Because we even know they’re gonna show up, and they repeatedly do.”
“That’s crazy.”
He brushed a hand down her hair. “Life is that, isn’t it?”
“So you were inner perimeter when the bullets started flying.” She wasn’t sure he would answer the question.
After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He looked far away for a moment and let out a breath. “I honestly never thought I’d lose someone. I always wanted to be Secret Service. I lived and breathed it. But when I lost little Elsie …” He blinked.
She felt tears in her own eyes.
“I realized I couldn’t guarantee anyone’s safety, and that just wouldn’t do for me.”
All of this man’s brokenness washed over her, and she leaned into him, hugging him. He was a good man. “You’re pretty … well, I’ll just say it: awesome.”
Lightly, he tapped her nose. “Don’t treat me too nice. You might regret it later.”
“Probably true.” She’d miss this once their fake engagement ended—the comfort of a good man. “I still think you should just forgive yourself.”
His eyes were glassy. “Naw, I think I’m beyond forgiveness.” He let out a breath and leaned back.
She met his eyes. “Hey, if you believe you can earn angel’s wings, I would think you could stomach a little bit of letting yourself off the hook.”
The side of his lip tugged up. “So you think I really could get my wings?”
She sputtered out a laugh. “Maybe you could, Hollywood.”
She could tell he didn’t want to dwell in this space, and she let the subject drift. “So does this couple have a photo with you?”
The side of his lip tugged up. “Actually, last year I think they realized that they did, and they put all the dots together about me being a movie star.”
The People article. She gestured for him to continue.
“So they put up some things to sell on eBay.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I bought them.”
She grinned. “Of course you did.”
“Then I took it a step further. I contracted them to never sell them again.”
“Nice.” She could see how that would be worth it to Grant after all he’d gone through. She leaned into him. “Because you like to get what you want?”
A low laugh rumbled through him, reverberating out to her. He kissed the back of her head as he pulled her into him. “That is true, and I’m wondering what I’d have to negotiate to get a certain woman I like in my life on a permanent basis.”
Stupid happiness filled her. As she put her arms around his neck, she admitted something she probably shouldn’t. “I think we might be able to work something out … but I’ll have to check with my neighbor.”
He tickled her, and she erupted into giggles.
Chapter 19
Grant parked his Jeep in the very snowy parking lot next to Main Street and wished more of the roads were plowed. But he knew how it went in cold places. The freeways got plowed first.
Hopping out of the truck, he ran around and opened Jewel’s door for her. She’d worn the pink snow boots he’d bought her. “I do like the boots,” he said.
She grinned at him. “I do too.”
Their gazes held, and he could feel the nervous waves coming off of her. The poor girl. She had all this buildup to finally finding her birth mother. He
shut the door and took her hand.
They had to work at getting across the snowy parking lot. Fortunately, Main Street’s sidewalks had been cleared.
“Are you ready?” he asked as they walked to the gallery.
Jewel sucked in a quick breath. Her eyes really showed her moods, and this morning, the green was soft and the flecks of blue lit up her face. Dang, she was pretty. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
They walked hand in hand, and dang it if he wasn’t nervous. Why should he be nervous?
He knew the truth. He was invested in this woman, in her hopes and dreams. He’d had a lot of girlfriends and relationships, but he’d never felt connected like this. No woman had ever pressed him like she did about what had happened. No woman had ever felt this real to him.
They got to the gallery, and the sign said “Open.”
“Do you want me to—”
Before he could even get the whole sentence out, she said, “Yes.”
They walked into the shop, still holding hands. He held the door open for her.
The gallery was pretty amazing. Huge canvases made of metal were attached to the wall, vibrant with different landscapes: beaches, woods, mountains.
Before he had a chance to better inspect the art, a woman appeared. Instantly, he knew it was Jewel’s birth mother. It was like seeing an older image of her: green eyes, slim figure, red hair cut shorter.
“Hello.” The woman’s whole face lit up. “Oh my gosh. Grant Kent?” Putting a hand to her chest, she held onto a chair. “I heard you were in Park City, but I had no idea you would come here.” The woman paused before turning to Jewel. “And you’re that girl he said was his fiancée?”
Grant’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked at Jewel’s face. It was totally blank.
The woman, presumably Jewel’s birth mother, waved a hand through the air and rushed toward them. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask that. I just … I’m embarrassed to admit I actually follow your life and your brothers, and, well,” she said, covering half of her mouth with her hand. “I just love …”
“I’m your daughter.” Jewel blurted it out without meaning to.