by Kay Lyons
“I’d be happy to,” Denz said. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”
“Yes, tomorrow. I don’t want to think about it anymore.” Marsali leaned her head on Oliver’s chest. “I’ve never been so scared.”
“Denz will help us get squared away,” Oliver said.
“Thank you, Denz,” Marsali said.
“My pleasure, Mrs. B. If Claire is finished giving her statement,” he said to the cop seemingly in charge, “I’d like to get her home.”
For the first time since the ladies had entered, Denz allowed himself to really look at Claire. She wore some sort of one-piece shorts outfit, her long legs looking longer because of the length—or rather lack thereof—and the strappy heels she wore on her slim feet.
He couldn’t imagine her taking someone on in those things, but he was glad she was able to protect her friend, even though she shouldn’t have had to.
“We have all we need,” the cop said. “If not, I’ll be in touch. And if you think of anything else, you call us.”
Denz reluctantly released her when Claire moved to accept the card the cop handed her and nodded at the man. “I will. Thank you.”
The officers moved toward the front of the house to leave, and Marsali, Eliza, and Amelia surrounded Claire in a group hug.
Goodbyes were said, and Claire sniffled.
“Let’s get you home.” Denz shook hands with Oliver and walked Claire to his rental. He helped her inside, but when she sat just there and stared at the multitude of flashing lights that had now been joined by camera crews, he tugged the seat belt into place and latched it over her.
He got them turned around and heading in the right direction, and once the police lights were behind them, he gently tugged on her forearm and lifted her hand to his lips. Her fingers were icy, and he held them to his chest to warm.
The summer traffic plucked his last nerve, but finally Denz pulled into Tom’s and cut the engine, reluctant to let go of Claire long enough to round the vehicle. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Where are your keys?”
Claire fumbled in her purse and produced a set of shiny keys he took from her trembling hand. The house was mostly dark, but Tom had left a light on in the living room.
Denz watched as Claire stumbled her way to the couch and dropped down to sit like she couldn’t take another step. He set the keys on the coffee table before lowering himself to the surface to remove her shoes. “I don’t know how you don’t break an ankle in these.”
She didn’t speak. One shoe dropped and then he worked his fingers over the straps of the other and it dropped as well. “Claire?”
“I c-can’t stop shaking,” she said. “Why c-can’t I s-stop shaking?”
He shifted off the coffee table onto the couch beside her and pulled her against him. “It’s the adrenaline. Fight or flight. And probably more than a little shock.”
Denz ran his hand up and down her back, softly, slowly, hoping it soothed her.
She turned her face into his chest and he kissed her head. “It’ll stop soon. You’re okay, Claire.”
“He was going to hurt her. He saw us and started yelling, and then he zeroed in on Marsali and… You should’ve seen his eyes. The l-look he h-had.”
Denz knew exactly what she referred to. Certain men—dangerous men—tended to have the same crazed look. Dark, beady, wild. Whatever the descriptive, their eyes were terrifying, and Denz hated that Claire now had them seared into her memory because of the night. “But he didn’t. You stopped him.”
“But…Tommy. All I could think of was Tommy. He’s lost his d-dad. And if the man… If he’d… If I… Tommy would’ve been alone. What would he d-do?”
“Everyone is safe,” he whispered. “Tommy is safe. You are safe,” he said, stressing each word.
She slid her arms around him and her head stayed buried against him.
“Don’t let go.”
Denz closed his eyes, barely able to breathe because of the anger coursing through him that someone had scared Claire so badly that she was reduced to the quivering woman he held. “I won’t.”
“I m-mean it,” she whispered again, her breath hot on his chest through his shirt. “Please d-don’t let go.”
He squeezed her tighter and then shifted and turned her so that she sat on his lap with him cuddling her, head tucked and body curled around him so tightly her knees dug into his ribs. “I’m right here. I won’t let go.”
At least…not until he was forced to.
Chapter 19
Claire opened her eyes and blinked, confused by everything. The bright light streaming through the window sheers blinded her, and it took a moment for her to remember she wasn’t in Virginia but in Carolina Cove. At her father’s. In the living room curled up on…Denz?
Claire gasped and the noise must have woken Denz, because his arms tightened around her and his mahogany gaze locked on to hers.
Claire felt her heart tug at the sleep-sexy smile that formed on his lips.
“Morning, beautiful. How do you feel?”
How did she feel? Stupid. She tensed at the memories flooding back. Marsali and the girls, the man…the screaming and fear and chaos. “I can’t believe you… You should’ve left me here a-and gone to bed.”
“I don’t break promises, sweetheart.”
Her panicked request for him to hold her and not let go sounded in her head, and she cringed at the implications. They’d already shared a kiss that had nothing to do with filming and everything to do with wanting to—and now this? He’d slept on the couch, upright, and held her all night? “I’m sorry. I-I mean, thank you but…I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.”
“I guess I was kind of a mess.”
“You had reason to be a mess.”
She unclenched her fingers from his shirt, where she’d apparently gripped it all night given the wrinkles, and shoved the hair from her face. Why him? Why couldn’t the guy in her father’s apartment be some everyday Joe who worked nine to five and didn’t carry a gun and run toward trouble on a regular basis? “I’m pretty sure you’ve faced much worse. I doubt you’ve ever…well, you know.”
“Wanted to hold on to someone? I have.”
“Oh.”
Denz’s admission didn’t make her feel better, though. Because him holding her and whispering to her was exactly what she’d wanted. What she’d needed. Even though for the last year she’d told herself she would be perfectly fine going it alone. “Dad will be up soon.”
Denz shifted and pressed a hand to her back to steady her as she shoved herself upright on his lap.
Scooting across to the couch cushion took even more effort, but she did so and blamed the flush she felt rising into her face on the summer sun blasting through the windows.
Denz wasn’t going to be around in the future, and just because she’d decided she was ready to date didn’t mean she could allow herself to depend on him now.
“I need to grab a shower before I head over there,” Denz said.
“Should I come with you? I need to get my Jeep.”
He lifted his phone from the cushion and looked at the face.
“It’s early. Maybe you should try to get some more sleep?”
“Denz? What are you… Claire, what’s going on in here?”
For such a big guy, her father hadn’t made any noise as he’d come down the hall, but Claire could tell exactly what he was thinking when he spotted her in the same clothes as she’d worn the day before and Denz sitting all rumpled on the couch.
Denz shoved himself to his feet and quickly explained what had happened with Marsali, and once the surprise wore off, her father moved to Claire’s side and hugged her.
“I’m okay, Dad.” She wasn’t okay that he’d obviously thought the worst of them first, but she supposed if it was Tommy and a girl in the same scenario, she’d have her rush-to-judgment doubts, too.
“Of course you are,” her father said gruffly. “But one of you should’ve woke
n me up and filled me in.”
“Nothing you could’ve done. I stayed to keep an eye on Claire while she came down from the adrenaline rush.”
Claire met Denz’s gaze and quickly looked away, very self-conscious of her behavior last night. “Denz was nice enough to sit with me.”
Her father patted her back roughly and thanked Denz again.
“Okay, so, I’m meeting with Oliver this morning about security,” he said to Tom, “but I’ll take Claire’s keys and bring the Jeep back with me. I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours at most, and we can get a taxi back to the wedding and drive the rental home later.”
“Yeah, okay. That works.” She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to go and be sociable and had simply wanted to retrieve her vehicle, but Denz’s plan worked fine. Eliza’s crew would be there setting up, the girls would be off to the salon for hair and makeup since they were V’s matron of honor and bridesmaids, and she probably wasn’t awake enough to be safe behind the wheel. “I would like to see Tommy when he gets up.”
Her panic over Tommy’s well-being had something happened to her surged to the forefront of her mind, and she found herself struggling to breathe.
Of course, Tommy would have her father, but what if something happened to him? The potential for random disaster seemed a little more real after last night, and she felt the need for a contingency plan.
She needed people in her life. People who loved her and Tommy and would make sure that Tommy was okay if something like last night ever happened again.
It was definitely something to ponder—and another reason to follow through on Marsali’s offer of matching her up.
It was a beautiful day for a wedding. Not too hot, breezy, a perfect cloud-dotted sky that gave periodic breaks from the beaming sun.
Claire gazed at the event, awestruck by the beauty Eliza had created in the gorgeously landscaped backyards shared by the group of friends. The ceremony had taken place behind Mac’s home on a terraced brick patio beneath an open gazebo. The bride’s father had walked her through the circular arrangement of chairs rounding to the patio, giving every guest the perfect view of the beautiful bride and the Intercoastal behind the couple as they exchanged their vows.
A billowing tent had been placed in Carter and Eliza’s yard with lounges and chairs and other glamorous sitting areas scattered throughout.
Due to the construction still taking place at Oliver and Marsali’s new home, a line of hedges had been placed to create a barrier to keep anyone from wandering that way, and if that didn’t work, the extra security hired after last night’s incident worked, too.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Marsali asked. “No matter how large or small, Eliza never fails to dazzle.”
Claire turned her attention to Marsali, who’d acted as V’s matron of honor. “It’s unbelievably beautiful.”
“She is an artist at what she does,” Marsali said. “So, how are you?”
“I think I should be asking you that. Were you able to sleep last night?”
Marsali turned her beautifully coiffed head toward her husband, who stood nearby talking to Mac, and nodded. “It took a while but I did. Oliver held me all night so I’d feel safe, but I think it was for his benefit as well. He’s upset that it happened and blames himself, even though he shouldn’t.”
The image of Denz holding her filled her mind, and Claire felt a flush crawl up her neck.
“You know,” Marsali said, “some women might not appreciate a man taking charge and being all protective, but I do.”
Claire nodded her agreement silently. Credit needed to be given when it was due, and she appreciated the quality as much as Marsali.
“Denz seemed to be a comforting presence to you last night before you left,” Marsali continued. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you?”
“There can’t be.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The danger of his job, the way he travels—I don’t want to be with someone like that again.”
“Ah,” Marsali said softly. “Well, I understand the thought process but—I still get the feeling there’s more between you than just friendship.”
Marsali’s gaze narrowed on her, and Claire knew her expression gave her thoughts away. “I was…held last night, too.”
Marsali’s eyes widened and Claire shook her head. “Nothing happened. He just held me. On the couch, in the living room. All night. Because I needed it a-and asked him to.”
“I see.”
“I had adrenaline shakes and they wouldn’t stop and… It was all very innocent.”
“I believe you.”
Claire gripped her glass so tight she was afraid it would shatter, so she set it on the railing where she stood. “Denz… He’s nice. Okay? I see it. He’s… He’s great. But he’s temporary and as soon as he passes his physical, he’ll be reassigned. It would be a mistake to get close to him.”
“Maybe. Or…maybe you’re looking at this all wrong,” Marsali said.
“What do you mean?”
“Claire, you’re obviously nervous about dating again, but just as obvious is the fact you and Denz share…something. An attraction or curiosity or interest. Whatever you want to call it, why not use his time here to explore that?”
“Marsali, I know I had a baby at seventeen, but I’m not the type to sleep with someone when I know they’re not going to stick around.”
“I didn’t mean that at all. Do you have my dating book? If so, you’d know that’s not how I think relationships should be handled.”
“It could never be a relationship. That’s just it.”
“Friendship is a relationship, Claire. And so long as Denz knows your boundaries and he’s okay with them, why not use his temporary status to test the waters? Use it to get comfortable going out again, being with someone other than your husband. Practice your flirting? In that regard, Denz’s temporary status is perfect, especially when you’re already so comfortable with him. He’s…safe.”
Claire blinked at her beautiful friend’s tantalizing suggestions and realized Marsali had a point.
Even Scott had been right to some extent, because if last night had shown her anything, it’s that one just never knew what could happen, and she needed to live in the moment more than she did. Appreciate it more.
She and Denz shared…something. Like Marsali said, there was definitely a level of comfort and ease with him that Claire wasn’t sure how to explain. Maybe she should do what Marsali suggested, teach herself to be in the moment with a nice man? “How do I talk to him about this? Bring it up? I don’t want him to feel used, especially when there won’t be side benefits,” she said, making a face.
Marsali laughed softly and wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulders, turning her so that they faced Denz and Oliver and Lincoln, all three men rocking their wedding attire and looking like something from a photo shoot.
“Just let it happen naturally,” Marsali said, urging Claire toward them. “Ask him to dance.”
Denz’s gaze locked on hers, and Claire managed to paste on a smile as they joined the men. She wet her lips and glanced up at Marsali before shifting her attention back to Denz and holding out her hand. “Dance with me?”
Chapter 20
Denz wasn’t sure what had changed with Claire but something had. As one song blended into two, he tugged her closer and let his lips brush her temple. “How many glasses of champagne have you had?”
A laugh bubbled out of her, drawing a smile from him because of the sound.
“Not enough. Not to ask what I want to ask, anyway.”
He drew back so that he could look into her eyes. “What’s going on?”
She closed her eyes and glanced away. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Forget it.”
“Claire.”
“It’s…just something Marsali said.”
“Which was?” Claire had worn the dress she’d been given by the production company after the shoot with Oliver, only this ti
me she also wore the killer heels that left her almost eye to eye with him. Undoubtedly hurt her feet, but he’d spent the entire afternoon trying to keep his mind on whatever conversation he was in because a shift of her feet would cause the slits on the sides of the dress to expose her beautiful legs and the ridiculous shoes he found so sexy.
“She…might have pointed out that I might have been looking at your temporary status in town the wrong way, and you’d actually be a good…”
He waited for her to finish her sentence. “A good?”
“Experiment. No! That’s not the right word. Oh, I’m botching this,” she said, ducking her head and stepping away.
He tightened his grip and pulled her back, keeping them moving. “What kind of experiment?” Marsali’s announcement last night that Claire had agreed to be matched sounded in his head, but whatever it was she hinted at, he wanted it spelled out in no uncertain terms. “Something to do with dating?”
He knew he’d guessed correctly when her nose wrinkled.
“Yeah? Like a-a practice project because we…seem to be comfortable with each other. It’s probably because of the kiss scene on set a-and because you’re in the garage apartment and helping with Tommy, but I-I might have told Marsali that you held me last night and it made me feel safe, and she said… Oh, forget it.”
“Not gonna happen, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Keep talking. I’m listening.”
“But it’s stupid. Crazy,” she added. “And it’s totally unfair to you because it wouldn’t go anywhere. I mean, it wouldn’t go there and most guys expect things to happen, but with you leaving it definitely wouldn’t, because I’m not that… I mean, I have to have an emotional connection and… Stop smiling like that,” she ordered, her eyebrows pinched over her nose.
He couldn’t stop the chuckle that emerged due to her rambling or her expression. “You do realize I wouldn’t expect anything from you that you weren’t willing to give.”