THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  “What about it?” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s Christmas-y.”

  “Yeah. All I need now are the reindeer.”

  “In fact...” Pete walked back to his garage, and came back carrying a wreath which he placed on the grill of the car. “On the house.”

  Red or not, it would have to do. Jack liked the idea of a convertible. It added to the whole cheery thing he’d be rocking next week.

  “Merry Christmas,” Jack said, and forked over the cash he’d pulled out of his savings account.

  The following week as planned, he left every light on, set the alarm, and locked up his condo. He picked up his duffel bag, put down the convertible’s top, slipped on his baseball cap backwards, and headed to Fallon’s place. The powerful engine made a gratifying growl that reminded him he was a man, and he drove to the other end of town taking his sweet time. Enjoying the admiring glances from other drivers. December in Los Angeles, where one could almost always count on driving with the top down. It was one of the perks of living here. When he pulled in front of Fallon’s duplex the hedges were trimmed back to leave a clear view of the window. A good omen. He’d managed to restrain himself from driving by her house all week. But look at that, something had already gone right.

  So far, so good.

  Fallon waited for him by the curb with no less than four suitcases surrounding her. “You’re late. And what is this?” She pointed to the convertible.

  He nodded toward her luggage. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “It’s a wedding. I need choices.” She tipped her chin.

  “Right.”

  Damn. This was what he got for being single so long. He’d forgotten a woman’s little idiosyncrasies, like bringing an entire wardrobe on a vacation. No worries. He’d make this work. He managed to force two suitcases in the far-from-generous trunk and threw the others in the backseat with his bag.

  “One bag?” Fallon studied him, obviously worried he’d planned on wearing jeans to the wedding.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got a suit in there.” He opened the passenger side door and waved her in.

  She slid him a look. “You realize we’ll probably have to put up the top when we go through San Francisco.”

  “Sure.”

  He hopped in the driver’s seat. Turned to give her an effort at a smile, and handed over the extra baseball cap he’d brought. It was going to get windy and all that long wavy hair would be flying all over the place. She accepted the hat and then slipped it on after a beat. Her lips tipped up in a half-smile, almost like she was reluctant to be too encouraging. He understood she wasn’t ecstatic about the road trip and probably not about the baseball cap, either.

  Tough.

  He hadn’t seen her since they’d met last week, and she looked prettier than he’d remembered. Long blonde hair fell past her shoulders. Big green eyes and a sweet smile. World class ass. This was a stupid idea, actually, going to a wedding and pretending to be in-love with a woman he might fall for if he let himself. Good thing he wouldn’t let himself. He still wasn’t ready to go through that again. One thing he’d decided he especially liked about Fallon? So far she hadn’t asked too many personal questions. He assumed she’d checked him out and determined he wasn’t a serial killer posing as a cop. God, at least he hoped so.

  “Seat belt,” he said.

  “I hope we’re not making too many stops.” She clicked the belt in place.

  “Some.” He made no move to pull out onto the street.

  “Sometime today?”

  “One more thing.”

  He leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. It was supposed to be quick, a get acquainted kiss so they’d be somewhat familiar with each other. But when hot lust poured through his veins he was stunned. Her lips were soft and invited him to stay awhile. Probably a bad idea. The next thing he realized, his lips practically jumped off hers like they’d been stung.

  Her two warm hands were flush against his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Exactly. What the hell am I doing? And also: what the hell was that?

  “Breaking the ice,” he said. Sounded as good of an excuse as any.

  She blinked but didn’t say a word.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to be madly in-love with you.”

  Her lips quivered now, in some kind of righteous indignation or confusion. He couldn’t figure out which and wasn’t about to try.

  “But it’s fake,” she finally said.

  “I know. But if you push me away every time I kiss you we’re not going to be too convincing.”

  One finger brushed against her lower lip. “I won’t do that once we get there.”

  “Nice try, but anyone with half a brain can see if a couple has just met or if they’re comfortable around each other. It won’t matter what we say, it’s more about what we do.”

  “But—”

  He pulled out on to the street. “Hey, it’s your lie.”

  * * *

  Maybe Fallon had made a mistake, getting into this convertible with a part-time Santa. Too bad about the ‘I’m-too-young-for-a-midlife-crisis’ cherry red convertible Mustang. She was certain it did beastly gas mileage. Still, it wasn’t the anticipated long drive ahead of her that bothered Fallon now, or the wind whipping through the car. Or the orange baseball cap.

  It was the amazing kiss.

  She’d been thinking about that short but devastating kiss for several minutes simply because, though it was possibly all of two seconds long, she’d been kissed within an inch of her life. He was a solid wall of hot male testosterone and oh boy he smelled so good. She wasn’t sure she’d ever in her life been kissed with such…confidence. By a man who had a plan to have no plan. She hated that about him. No one at their age should be so laid-back even if it had helped his availability for this wedding week. But he had a good point, too, and one she hadn’t considered. Most people would be able to tell that she and Jack had just met a week ago.

  “We should take advantage of this long drive to get to know each other,” Fallon said.

  “And you need to stop jumping when I touch you.”

  “You might have started with something besides a kiss. Like maybe holding my hand.”

  “You’re right, I could have, but I’m not six.”

  They snaked up Highway One through Malibu. Sunny blue skies, sandy beaches, and in the distance sailboats out for the day. Beautiful scenery if a person was in no rush which Jack made abundantly clear he was not. He drove at a slow enough speed that several cars passed them. But as long as they arrived in plenty of time, Fallon would grind her teeth into dust if that’s what it took. As an added bonus, if she’d thought he looked good in a Santa suit that was nothing to how he filled out a pair of worn Levis, a gray Henley long sleeved shirt, and black biker boots.

  A few minutes into the drive, Jack pulled over in a rest stop along Malibu beach.

  “What is it?” Fallon asked. “It’s too soon to stop.”

  “Photo-op,” he said and grabbed his camera from the back seat. “Get out.”

  “Get out? Me?”

  “You see anyone else in this car? I want you to stand next to the car so I can take your photo.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you or do you not want to convince everyone I’m madly in love with you?”

  “Fine!” Feeling a tad ridiculous, she stepped out and stood beside the car as he snapped one photo after another. Click. Click. People were staring.

  “Try to smile.”

  “I am smiling.” She gritted her teeth and rested her hand on the hood of the Mustang. “How long have you owned this car?”

  “About a week. Bought it for the trip.”

  She dropped her hand. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. Got a great deal.” He reached for his phone then and took a few photos with that, too.

  Finally, she was allowed back in the car. “Was that necessary?”

  “Absolutely.
” Jack handed over his phone. “Now I’ve got photos of my girlfriend, the woman I’m so madly in love with, in my phone. You haven’t thought this one through all the way, have you, Sweetcakes?”

  “Listen. I do appreciate everything you’re doing to help me out, but if you call me Sweetcakes again you’re going to be walking funny.”

  “I’d almost like to see you try that. You don’t like Sweetcakes. What do you want me to call you?”

  “Fallon!” She shouted and then realized a term of endearment only lent credence to the whole lovers thing. “Or…babe.”

  “Ah.” He peered at her from lowered shades. “Good choice.”

  And damn it all, he was right again. She hadn’t though anything about this through. Why would she when she’d come up with the idea on the fly right after being nearly victimized? Usually her best ideas came when brainstorming, but Jack was right in that she often had to smooth them over before she’d present them to anyone else. Straighten out the rough edges.

  “Let’s get our stories straight,” she said as he pulled back on Pacific Highway. “I’ll need to know what to tell people. What made you decide you didn’t want to be a cop anymore?”

  He narrowed eyes at her. “Do we want to tell people I’m a cop?”

  Former cop, Fallon almost corrected him. “Why not?”

  “People don’t like cops. They won’t talk to them. And it’s not that impressive.”

  “I think being a homicide detective is quite impressive.”

  He shook his head. “Here’s what we’re going to tell them. I’m a high-powered defense attorney. I rake in the big bucks.”

  “You want to be a defense attorney? Not a prosecutor?”

  He slid her a look. “Do you want me to work long hours for shit pay, or do you want me to have money to burn? You decide.”

  “Point taken.”

  “So I’m a wheeling and dealing defense attorney, and I’ve never been married before. I’ve—”

  “Is that true?”

  “None of it is true. I thought that was the point.”

  “So you’ve been married before?”

  “Do you want to know about the real me or the fake me?”

  Both. But he was along for the ride and being a good sport about it, too. She shouldn’t ask too much of him and he obviously didn’t want to talk about his broken marriage. Coincidentally, neither did she.

  “Shouldn’t you know something about me, too?”

  “It’s a little more realistic for a guy not to know every little thing about his girl but yeah. Hit me with the headlines. All the need-to-know stuff.”

  “I’ve been married before, and Ted and I have a son, David, who’s nine now. That’s the wedding we’re going to. David’s father is getting re-married.”

  “Wait. We’re going to your ex-husband’s wedding?”

  The wedding of one of my ex-husbands. Might be best not to add that just now. “Did I not mention that?”

  “You didn’t, no.”

  “Oh, my bad. I know it sounds weird but we have a son together. Ted is…Ted. I have to put up with him.”

  “That doesn’t mean going to his wedding.”

  L.A. people often didn’t understand the small town mentality. But the residents of Starlight Hill were like one large and dysfunctional family.

  “I want to see David. When I found out that Ted’s parents weren’t going to be available to watch him while Ted honeymooned, my Mom was their second choice.”

  Jack nodded as if that made sense to him on some level.

  “We’re stopping.”

  “We are so not stopping. We’re only in Santa Barbara!”

  “It’s lunch time,” Jack said and five minutes later he’d pulled into Johnny Rocket’s.

  “I could have gone at least another hour without lunch,” Fallon complained, putting her hand on the door handle.

  “Don’t move.”

  She froze. “What now? Why?”

  He took off his baseball cap and propped his sunglasses on his head. “Do you always ask this many questions?”

  “Yes.”

  He hopped out of the car and came to her side of the door to open it. “Now you can move.”

  “That’s really not necessary,” Fallon said. “I’m sure you want to get points for being a fantastic boyfriend but no one’s watching us now.”

  Still, it was kind of a nice change to have someone open doors for her. Jack went ahead and opened the door for both her and an elderly couple walking in behind them.

  “Lover,” Jack said as they were walked to their table by the hostess.

  She didn’t say a word, only stared at him.

  “I want to get points for being a fantastic lover. I’m too old to be someone’s boyfriend.”

  The cute hostess with a reindeer antlers headband seated them, taking a thorough appraisal of Jack when she handed him a menu. She might as well have licked her lips. “Your waitress will be right with you.”

  Jack glanced at the menu. “Tell me about this ex-husband.”

  Fallon hated to think about Ted, much less talk about him. But she understood it would be necessary. “He’s a lawyer.”

  He put his menu down. “Change of plans. I can’t be a lawyer if your ex is a lawyer. I’m not that good. He’ll sniff me out in no time. You should have said something.”

  “It’s good we’re figuring this out now.” She thrummed her fingers on the table.

  Jack seemed to be daydreaming. “I think I’d like to be the CEO of my own sports equipment company.”

  “Why can’t you be a homicide detective?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “We went over this.”

  “It’s just that I’ve already asked enough of you. Pretending to be in-love with me is a big enough lie.”

  He went back to studying the menu without another word.

  “Order anything you’d like. On me,” Fallon said.

  “What’ll you have?” The waitress sidled up next to their booth.

  “Two of the giant burgers, and two sides of sweet potato fries, with two chocolate milkshakes. Actually, make one a strawberry milkshake and one chocolate.” He slapped the menu shut. “And whatever she’s having.”

  Fallon snorted. “Hungry much?”

  “Just kidding.” He spoke to the waitress. “I ordered for both of us.”

  The waitress didn’t say another word but just took off with their orders.

  “Why did you do that? I can order for myself. Just because we’re in a nineteen-fifties themed restaurant doesn’t mean you get to make my choices.”

  “Yeah?” His warm gaze did a slow slide from her eyes to her breasts. “You just don’t look like you eat in places like these often.”

  Their gazes locked for a moment and neither of them said a word. Fallon looked away first. Maybe she should focus on light conversation to get away from the sizzle of warmth traveling down her stomach to her thighs.

  “Don’t you have family to spend Christmas with?”

  “My parents moved to Oregon a few years ago when they retired, following my older brother and his family. I’ll stop by and see them after your wedding. It’s good timing. Right direction.”

  “You’ll drive all the way to Oregon after the wedding?”

  “Right.”

  “You can leave the day after the wedding, and I’ll just tell everyone that you can’t spend Christmas with us because of work or something.”

  A few minutes later they were back on “the one” as Jack kept referring to it, making stops along the way so that he could take even more blasted photos. By the time they got to Pismo Beach, Fallon thought she might have an aneurysm if they stopped once more. Jack took an exit off the highway.

  “Again?” She gritted her teeth.

  “No worries.” He glanced at his phone. “We’re making good time.”

  Fallon was about to let him know that not only were they not making good time, but they were about two hours behind her air tight schedul
e, when he put the GPS down and took her hand in his. It wasn’t so much the action that jarred her this time but his touch. She stared at their hands linked together. Stared at his profile as he drove. The feel of his warm hand holding hers did something strange to her equilibrium. She was only a few hours into this road trip and going home was already messing with her head. She was busy wanting things she shouldn’t. Remembering what it was like to even have a lover. Lover. He’d just had to use that word with her. The truth was she hadn’t wanted or needed anyone in her bed in a very long time.

  Too long.

  “Why are we stopping here?”

  He gave her an easy smile. “Monarch butterflies.”

  4

  Jack’s first instincts had been dead on. Fallon might need this road trip more than he did, and he would make her enjoy it or die trying. Which he just might, if those ‘kill’ looks of hers were ever given any real power. He recognized himself in her. Too uptight for too long, focused on the end game and not seeing the beauty of what was right in front of her.

  A month ago, it had been the same for him.

  But now he was trying, trying like hell to grab life by the balls and squeeze tight. If he still had no idea what he would do with the rest of his life, he would figure it out soon enough. He had options. He could always stay in Oregon and pound nails for his brother.

  “Pismo Beach is famous for monarchs. They migrate from late October through February.” Jack made the turn off the highway and followed the signs to the Pismo Beach Monarch Butterfly Grove. “This might be good timing.”

  “It’s just another tourist trap,” Fallon said as he led her by the small of her back towards the tree line.

  She didn’t seem as resistant to his touch which made Jack wonder if he should now back off. But he didn’t want to because he liked touching her. She was silky soft and all woman. Still, he hardly wanted the added complication of becoming interested in someone when he had no plan. Women were, of course, so attracted to that.

  The waves crashed in the background, the sea air fresh, salty and clear. It was a good day to be alive and for the first time in years he didn’t regret being a part of this crazy messed up world. There was a small trailer with a drawing of a monarch butterfly printed on its side selling t-shirts. They passed by it, following a small crowd to the viewing area where dozens of butterflies congregated in the tree grove. There were so many of them that they’d formed a unique moving pattern, like a wave at a football game. They migrated south for the warmth, sure, but they also seemed to enjoy being together. Sooner or later, Jack would find that again. The knowledge of being connected to something better…something that made a difference. That mattered. It used to be his work, but now it would have to be…something else.