Tattooed Hearts (32 page)

“You said something?”

“No.” His voice came out hoarse, making him sound like a
backed-up teenager.
 

She peered at him from over her
shoulder,
a slight frown furrowed her forehead.

“What?” he asked, buttoning his shirt.

She smiled. “You’re nervous.”

“I am?” If only she knew where his mind actually was, she’d
stay right across the room or risked getting bent over, or maybe lay her on th
e bed and spread her open. As much as he loved her ass,
having her fully exposed for his viewing was by far his favorite. They didn’t
have much time
. T
he limo was due to arrive soon. Fifteen minutes tops was
all he needed and
voila
…home sweet home.

She nod
ded. “About tonight.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not nervous.”

“Do you want to take two separate cars?”

He knotted his tie then slipped on his jacket. “No. Why are
you asking?” Shit. What the hell was he missing here? “Would you rather we take
separa
te cars?”

“No. I just thought maybe…you might not want all the
tabloids stuff like last night at Vapor. I know that’s not who you are,” she
said, referring to the frenzy the two of them photographed together had
apparently caused on social media. Apparentl
y they’d
become the latest media darlings.

Neither had checked, but their friends had texted pictures.
She was right; he wasn’t into any of that. But that was part of who she was. He
was familiar enough with the paparazzi from Jason and Adam to know how to
handle it. Most of all, that was part of the Claire Peters
package.

“I don’t mind the media.”

“They will dig into your past.” There was a careful note in
her voice. “About Luc.”

He didn’t like the idea, but something told him Claire or
not, there was no
avoiding that hump in his life.
That came with being a Montgomery. “I think you might rush the process, but
it’s unavoidable.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

He nodded.

She bit her lower lip and didn’t look convinced one bit.
“So then what’s bothering you?”

“I was thinking of how we could have sex again,” he
admitted.

She arched a brow, her gorgeous lips formed into an
oh.
Then a smile touched her
mouth. “So you’re okay with us being officially photographed tonight?”

The thought never crossed his mind. “I hav
en’t thought about it. What’s the big deal? Someone took a
picture of us at the funeral, at Woods Hole, and last night.”

He obviously was clueless when it came to the rules of
dating someone in the public eye because she gave him that
Oh-you-idiot
smile, a
nd then closed the distance in the room between them in
those four-inch heels. He had no choice but to curl his hand around her waist,
pull her to him and let her feel the evidence of his nervousness.

“Oh.” She blinked. “And I thought you were getting cold
feet.”

“I’m warm all over.”

She cleared her throat. “So you’re good with all of this.”

As evidence of how good he was with whatever she was
talking about, he pressed her a little closer. A little whimper escaped the
back of her throat. It pleased him. But
he released
his grip. “I have a feeling you’re trying to tell me something. So explain.”

“Well, a picture of you and me together knowing there are
going to be tabloids outside in Hollywood terms, it means we’re official.”

That worked for him. “What’s wron
g
with official?”

“It means we’re dating.”

“Okay.”

“So you’re okay with the world knowing you’re dating me?”

He pulled her into him again. “While it may crush my
playboy status, I think you’re worth it and so much more. As a matter of fact,
I’ll show you h
ow much tonight.”

“Promise?” she purred, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

He stepped back just enough to look into her eyes. “I
promise.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go. By the way, you look
beautiful.”

She nuzzled against him. “Thanks, Doc. You
look pretty hot in a suit.”

He swore. “The word hot or hottie should be expunged from
the English language.”

She laughed and pinched his ass. “I love you and I’m
happy.”

“Me too.” For the first time in a long time, he meant it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“My heart waits.”

Claire
Yasō
Peters

Her heart was flying and
the world seemed to stop. The night had been grand, especially with Forrest by
her side. After the award ceremony, they attended the after party–danced and
flirted the whole time. A part of he
r hadn’t wanted
this dream to end. On the other hand, that meant they’d be on the first flight
to Boston tomorrow then catch the ferry back to the island. One more week with
Forrest without any interruptions, then time to dance to the rhythm of reality.
Cl
aire plopped on the sofa and stared at Forrest as
he made his way to her open kitchen. He looked amazing in a suit and tie.

“Have I told you how
beautiful you look in a suit?” she asked, her voice doing that breathless thing
whenever she was around him.

He
shook his head as he poured a glass of water and brought it over to her.
“Men aren't beautiful.”

She laughed. “Thanks. You
don’t like hottie, so beautiful it is. And so thoughtful and considerate.”

“You make me sound like
you have me by the balls.”

“Oh, I
don’t think I can ever have you by the balls, Forrest
Montgomery Desvareaux.” She took a sip of the water. See, he brought her water,
which was thoughtful. A thoughtful man was sexy. “But I know where I’d like to
have your balls.”

Her phone buzzed. She gl
anced at the notification and smiled. “I won the bid.”

“I owe you a date.” He
took her feet in his hands and just when Claire thought nothing could top the
night, he started massaging her tired tendons.

Heaven.

Thoughtful. Considerate.
Intelligent. A body
to die for. A sexy combination of
brains and brawn. The glasses were an added oomph. While he could wear contacts
or afford LASIK surgery, he chose to wear the spectacles as a badge of honor,
with no care whether he was perceived as nerdy. Others’ opinion
s never meant much to him. “God, that feels good.” She
hadn’t realized how bad her muscles ached until he started applying the gentle
pressure.

“I know what I’m doing,”
he said, that sexy gravel in his voice sending a charge through her. “I have
trained ha
nds.”

“Ah, yes, being a doctor
and all.”

He laughed. His eyes
crinkled in the corners, and the laugh lines on either side of his mouth
deepened, stealing her breath. She loved the sound of his voice, fully animated
and relaxed. This was the Forrest she’d k
nown and
loved all of her life. She closed her eyes and settled into the wonderful way
Forrest was loosening her muscles when her phone went off.

An unsettling feeling
began welling inside her. It was well past midnight. Unless it was a dire
situation, her
friends never called her this late,
which left the only other person who had free range to contact her at any time.
Calls at this time from him always meant drop everything and let’s go.

Picking up the phone, she
took James’ call. “Hi,” she greeted her ma
nager in a
cheerful voice. Positive energy attracted positive things. Maybe he wanted to
tease her again about how she was trending on Twitter. Hope coiled tight inside
her.

“You can’t return to
Martha’s Vineyard tomorrow.”

Well, talk about straight
to the
point. Her breath hitched. Before answering
the phone, she knew the shrieking sound had reality check written all over it.
But her stomach still clenched. “James–”

At the mention of her
manager’s name, Forrest met her gaze. Something flickered in his, it
made her gut clench.

“What’s so urgent?” she
asked into the phone.

James exhaled on the other
end. A sign this wasn’t fun for him either. “Production company for
Tattooed Hearts
is on my ass now that you’re back. It’s
almost the end of March, they want the
ir song. Did
you write it?”

“Yes,” she answered in a
choked voice.

“Great. Now you have to
record it and Claire, don’t forget you were on a promotional tour. You have
obligations.”

Legal,
binding obligations that could get her into a prodigious mess
.
S
he k
new that and had every intention o
f fulfilling them.
It just that…
her heart needed to find its
home.
She peeked at Forrest still rubbing the
sole of her feet. He met her gaze and held. His features were blank, but his
eyes as always spoke to her. There was
something in
his–like he knew this would happen. She wouldn’t go back with him. Her stomach
had dropped to her feet.

“When does my schedule
clear?” In the past, she always worked on auto-pilot. Never cared. She never
had to.

“End of June.”

Claire rubbed h
er eyes, breaking the contact with Forrest. “That’s over
three months.” Without Forrest.

“I’m sorry,” James offered
gently. “I caught the highlights on TV. You looked happy tonight.”

She had been. A sigh of
surrender left her mouth. “I need tomorrow’s itin
erary.
Ava can send everything in the morning.”

“Should already be in your
inbox.”

She shifted uncomfortably
on the sofa and pulled herself straighter, inadvertently dragging her legs from
Forrest’s grasp. He looked on, but made no effort to hold her. Clai
re’s shoulders stiffened with tension. “Thanks,” she said
into the phone.

“Claire, I’m sorry. I know
you’re trying…”

“It’s okay. Thanks,
James,” she said and disconnected the call.

A heavy silence hung over
them. She glanced unceremoniously around the room
until her gaze landed on Forrest. Their eyes intertwined. Realization whirled
around them. The big elephant they managed to avoid for the little bit of time
was fully awake. She sagged back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

“You have a life here.” He
spoke first. His voice was calm as always, but there was
an undercurrent now, the slightest tension. Which, coming from Forrest was
monumental. “I knew that was part of the deal.”

“What does that mean?” she
asked and held her breath. A jolt of panic immed
iately
rifled through her entire body.

“It means this is where
you belong.” He looked at her for a beat. His eyes were pensive, his mouth
grim. “I love who you’ve become, but…”

“I belong with you,” she
interjected, knowing where this was going. But he had
it
all wrong.

He gave her a long look,
then removed his glasses and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “You belong here.”

There was finality in his
voice that chilled her bones. He rose from the couch, distancing himself from
her—from them. Desperate to hold o
n, she flung to her
feet and grabbed his arm.

“I love you, Forrest. If I
have to choose, I’d choose you.”

He stepped closer, cupped
her face and kissed her long and deep. “You shouldn’t have to choose,” he said
against her lips. “I can never make you choos
e. I
love you too much.” He
smiled
,
a joyless smile. “I fell
in love with you that day I helped you in the garden. I didn’t even know what
the hell it was…” His voice trailed. “But it smacked me hard in the chest.
Almost twenty years later, I’m still in lo
ve with
you.”

The revelation should have
her in rapture, walking on air. Instead she felt flat, dejected. Because even
though he’d just declared his love for her, he didn’t look happy. On the
contrary, the man she loved looked like his heart was breaking i
nto a million pieces.

“I’m glad you invited me
to L.A. and let me in the part of you that I shut out for so long,” he
continued in a low voice, filled with regrets. “And for that I’m truly sorry.”

She pressed her face in
his hand and kissed his palm. “Come
with me. It’s
only three months. Stay with me.”

He stepped back and shoved
his hands in his pockets. “Where are you going?” he asked, but his voice gave
her no sign he was actually considering the idea.

“I don’t know.” She really
didn’t. One day she could be in Atlanta, New York next, and Utah after.

“You have a tour to
finish,” he said in a perfectly calm voice. “I know. You put it off long
enough. Don’t you think?”

“We can make us work. I
know I’ll be
on the road a lot, but I’ll come back to
the island as much as I can.”

“How often?”

 
“I don’t know,” she answered, heart
hammering in her chest. “Whenever–”

“Your schedule allows,” he
finished, no trace of bitterness in his voice. “I’m willing to go anywhe
re with you, but I want permanence. My home is the
Vineyard.”

“We can make it work.” She
wanted to point out couples like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, Will Smith and
Jada Pinkett. They found a way. But her shoulders slumped because even in her
ears, they
sounded doomed. She was temporary.
Although she’d stopped running, she was still lost in the torrid vortex of the
past.

Her stomach churned with a
cocktail of emotions. A tear slid down her cheek. He wiped it away with his
thumb, and brought the salty stre
ak to his lips.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered.

She shook her head, unable
to speak. They stood staring at each other. When she couldn’t take it anymore,
emptied, like a collapsed balloon she let herself fall back on the couch. In a
busy silence, she watched as
Forrest removed his
jacket, unknotted his tie and sat next to her. Then he reached his hand behind
her head and unclipped her hair.

With a gentle tug, he
turned her face so she was looking at him. Removing his glasses, he placed them
on the other end of t
he sofa before focusing back on
her, a dark edgy expression on his face. “Make love to me,” he said, and then
kissed her. Tender at first. Then not so tender.

Her arms reached up and
tangled around his neck. Wanting to be as intimate with him as she could,
she kissed him back. She swept her tongue across his lips
and garnered a low, guttural sound deep in his throat. It was a soulful, hungry
sound that consumed her. His mouth opened on hers, igniting flames all the way
to her toes.

His hands were swift on h
er dress, going straight to the delicate buttons. Nimble
fingers snapped one button loose. “Is this your dress?” he asked, kissing his
way to the outer shell of her ear.

“Yes.”

“I owe you a dress.”

A pop snapping sound
followed, she broke off a startled ga
sp when the
front of her dress came apart. With a flick of a finger, her bra fell from her
shoulders, bearing her breasts. He groaned, dipped his head and kissed her
collarbone. Then lower. When he licked the tip of a nipple as if she were a
sinful dessert
, Claire sighed in sheer pleasure.

“I want to touch you,” she
said in a hurried voice, unbuttoning his shirt. In her impatience, she tore off
a few buttons.

“Touch me.”

She tugged off his shirt
and ran her fingers over the firm ridges of abs, it generated
a slight trembling movement from him.

His mouth was on her
breast. He sucked then took it between his teeth and gave it a quick bite. She
moaned at the sharp, sweet sting of pain mingled with pleasure. Quivering from
head to toe, she arched her back, givin
g him more
access. He repeated the same motion on the other.