A Captivating Conundrum (26 page)

I tossed the silly thoughts out of my head. "Too much garlic, I think."

"You like him."

Getting up, I walked over to the shopping bags and began to dig through, staring at all the lovely creations Nicole had picked up on the way here. 

"You do."

I sighed "I told you. You've seen his talent; Matt creates and delivers the performance with such sheer beauty that Amber is sure to—"

"I'm not taking about Amber." Nicole jumped up and came at me. "This is bothering you."

I snorted. "Don't be ridiculous."

"This guy…he's getting to you."

"When will you see Ken again?"

Nicole released a deep-throated chuckle. "Don't bother. I've known you too long, so changing the subject won't work with me."

I looked at the door.

"Nor will it work to head for an exit. I own a set of keys to all the doors in this house, remember? You gave them to me for emergencies. Anywhere you go I can get to you." Nic reached for the carafe she'd stolen off the table downstairs and pointed at the chair in the corner. "Sit your ass down." 

This was the Nicole 'mode' that reminded me there was no way I was getting out of this unscathed. Sitting down, I took the glass of wine she handed and put my legs underneath me, knowing this could prove to be an even longer night than I'd originally thought.

She waved the carafe in the air. "A very private romantic dinner together, it looked like?"

"He was practicing the play and offered to make dinner." I was short and sweet, already feeling like the star witness for the defense that was told not to give too much away, or else the prosecutor would tear me to pieces.

"I like him."

I rolled my eyes. "Give me a break. You don't like anybody."

Her nose rose in the air. "Not true. At least, not now."

I snorted. "Okay, I'll rephrase. Besides big, bad Texans you don't like anybody."

My agent looked as if she was about to fight for a publishing contract. "I'll have you know at that first lunch I found something Matt McKenna did truly amazing, and I haven't been able to forget it."

"What?" I was suddenly curious.

"When he found out what'd happened to you, a shadow went across his face."

I laughed. "That was thrown by the overzealous waitress drooling behind him."

Her eyes flashed. "NO! He was pissed off. I could see this flash of anger, and I knew he wanted to find whoever it was that'd caused you even a second of pain and break the guy's legs."

I shook my head. "Ever since he's been here—even at the bar when morons would hit on me—Matt never showed an, 'I will kick your ass' attitude."

"I'm sure. In a bar, in public, something tells me if anyone hit on you Matt would simply put his arm around your waist, whisk you across the dance floor…or, into a corner," she continued, with a wink, "and send the guy a big 'FU' smile over his shoulder to let him know that HE was the one who had you for life."

I was waiting for some kind of teasing to come through her lips, but Nicole just rolled her eyes. "Man, you're a moron. I've said before, whoever you give that big heart away to will be able to preen like a peacock while he's on his knees thanking his lucky stars. The guy would score big! He wouldn't have to play jealous with anybody else; you're so loyal that if he had you, he would know that you were his body, mind and soul…for life."

"You give me way more credit than I deserve."

Nicole shook her head hard. "It would take a nod from you to have a guy running out the next day to buy the ring and slip it on your finger because you're the one. You're the 'forever' material. And no big-boobed, liposucked actress or model is going to take the place of that." Nicole calmed her voice a bit and sat down. "When Matt heard about the stalker—"

"Don't use that word." I shook my head.

She rolled her eyes. "When Matt heard about that 'poor boy who simply got caught up in a fantasy,'" she said, her face growing as stern as an angry nun, "a fantasy that made him so obsessed he
could
have actually killed you because he was NUTS! That's when Matt's face took on that shadow; he moved into the role of protector in an instant, and he didn't even know you then. It was like something inside him said, 'THIS is the woman and no one will give her a moment's grief now that I've found her.'"

I shook my head.

"After only three days I'm SURE this guy knows you're as tough as they come, but he was STILL looking at you downstairs like he didn't want to let you out of his sight. He watches you, and not in the overheated 'male' way," she said, sticking out her tongue and looking disgusted. "Matt looked at you like you were his wife."

I choked on the wine. "Can we
please
stop talking about this? You're just in a romantic place right now, Nicole. You have to remember that this guy doesn't even know me."

"Then LET him!" Her command practically rattled the house. "What's so wrong with that? You're not harboring a lost love; the only reason you're even off-the-market is because you chose your career over anything else. Look around! The career is going just fine, and you're allowed to have BOTH. Why not concentrate on yourself for a while?" 

She turned around and headed for the open door. "I need a shower."

As always I just watched her. No matter what Nicole had to say, the minute she was done making HER point there was never time for a counterattack. There was no yielding to anyone else. When Nic was off the floor, the floor was officially closed.

The little body kicked off the big heels and shrunk into the size of an ankle-biter, which she was, and turned at the door. "Oh, and speaking of children. You with Amber, you with the kids at the library, they love you, Beth. They look up to you and you give them everything a perfect Mom would give. Plus, bitch," she said with a grin. "You bake cookies and stuff, which is just wrong."

I laughed out loud.

"I mean, seriously. They'd have a Mom who looked amazing in black leather, knew every song on the charts, every great movie that's ever been made and could head-bang with the best of them. You could also teach them more than any high school/college combo on the planet. AND they would get cookies. Who knows?" She winked. "Maybe Matt is just the right man to be the 'Hot Dad' to your 'Cool Mom.'" Looking me up and down, she sighed. "I have to say, you're talking about some seriously pretty kids, no matter which parent they take after."

Staring at the closed door, I knew Nicole was right about one thing. I wasn't one of those who had a horrible breakup, or sat around pining for a love long lost. I'd simply watched the best marriages occur in my own family, so I'd already made up my mind long ago that if it wasn't on their level, I didn't want it.

Leaning back, I stared out the big picture window at the silver moon highlighting the alcove where the small beach sat hidden. Nic was also right about Matt. If he had even one-tenth of the emotion for being a father as he'd portrayed when he read that script, then he
would
be a fantastic one in real life.

I sighed. He did deserve that, and the wonderful wife to go with it, but we were not the right couple. And all I had to do was keep that in mind at
all
times, and convince him to go back to the city and wait for opening night. Then he could fly straight back to California…and his life.

~ His ~

I was turning into a prune. I'd been sitting in the water forever trying to concentrate on the next album, the next script…but it didn't help. Beth was so deep in my mind, her face was the only thing I saw. 

I called Chance and listened to my crew in the background talking about sports, L.A., who was 'seen,' where they went and all that stuff we yap about.

The hot water in the bathtub was scalding; I was trying anything to get my mind off the only thing I wanted to do—get up, go across the hall and take Beth into my arms. I wouldn't even consider Nicole, since she didn't consider me when she broke in on our night at just the wrong time. I wouldn't talk about it. I would bring Beth back here to finish what I
know
would've begun if Fate had just granted me two seconds more.

It was so juvenile being this impatient, but it wasn't about sex. I really wanted to start so that Beth and I could start living the life I wanted with her. Hell, I didn't even know I had been waiting for her. I mean, I write songs about needing that woman—someone who would understand and be there at the end of the night knowing MY name. But I'm still young. I mean, I can date for a decade at least before really needing that romantic scenario that everyone wants but simply laughs off because it's only true in books and up on the screen.

But I knew, I just
knew
that Beth and I would be the perfect couple in every way. From the support we'd give each other to the love and pride we'd take in one another…she had that light—that beacon that draws me in like she's the core that will give me the future I want to lead and the family I want to build. And I would never have to give up the career because she'd be the one to help, love and push me even more. For some reason I knew Beth understood me inside and out, and seemed to accept me warts and all, as my mom would say.

"Christ!" I yelled out before throwing my head under the water. This was so frustrating! Beth fit no stereotypes; she could jump from one place to another so fast I couldn't keep up, and then I could look at her over dinner and see this big heart and her full attention resting only on me—like there was no one else on the planet except the two of us.

I do love a conundrum, but this was ridiculous. 

Twenty

~ Hers ~

The scent was what forced me to get up. Coffee, the substance that could chase everything away and help a person regroup, was filling my nostrils. There were way worse things I could be addicted to, so caffeine wasn't too bad in the big scheme of things.

I looked over at Nicole lying spread-eagle on the bed. I could've throttled her in that moment for having the nerve to keep me up all night, only to then fall asleep at dawn and take my bed. But she looked like a small child, as if she'd fallen asleep while making her angel in the snow. I made a note to tell Ken when I met him that he best buy a very large bed, considering this tiny thing loved to hog every bit of it.

Standing up, I shuffled to the shower. Changing into my Sunday best—my shorts and sweatshirt representing the team that just HAD to win on the court today, or I would have to listen to Bobby yap the rest of the afternoon that he was right and I was wrong—I walked past the dresser, picked up Nicole's sunglasses and put them on. The light was just too damn bright for these tired eyes, but I needed that coffee more than air.

As I got to the foot of the stairs I turned the corner to see a trio of very good looking and very awake men sitting around the table, enjoying their Sunday morning rituals. The newspaper had been passed out. In Matt's hand, the sports section was open. Chris was staring down at the
Times
fashion section pointing out everything that was completely wrong when it came to the Dior line, and Bobby was reading the comics, smiling at the words of people whose job it was to make everyone's official day-off entertaining.

I wanted to moan, groan and throw waffles at all the well-rested bastards, but when I appeared, Chris looked up and offered me a sympathetic gaze. "Oh, honey. How much did you drink?"

I plopped myself down on the empty chair across from him and let loose a sort of grunt. "Not drinking."

Patting me on the back, Chris rose and went to the coffee pot to bring me back a truly amazing gift.

I took a sip. "Bless you, my son. May your camel never have the trots."