Seaside Lovers: Grayson Lacroux (Love in Bloom: Seaside Summers) Page 4

  “I’ll be more careful of your lipstick next time.” The firm press of his hand on her lower back brought reality in again.

  He guided her out of the elevator and down the hall on noodle-like legs. She stopped a few feet from Abe’s suite to allow her synapses to begin firing again, as she remembered why she was there. When she’d called the resort and found out that Abe lived there, she’d been surprised to hear he had a round-the-clock nurse and failing health.

  “What’s wrong?” Grayson asked.

  “I’m nervous. That was…” Insane. “Intense. And unexpected and probably inappropriate. But”—she motioned around his broad chest—“that’s all your maleness coming out and trying to help. I think.”

  “It was,” he said easily.

  Well, nothing like clarification. It would have been nice to hear something about how maybe it had started that way, but…Ugh! Okay, so you’re not interested in me? Do you exude sex and desire around all of your friends? She shook her head to try to focus on why she was there. What if Abe refused to see her? What if he yelled at her? What if he said horrible things about Bert? But Grayson was too distracting, and all her thoughts tumbled out.

  “I’ve met with high-powered filmmakers, directors, and producers, and I’m even more nervous meeting Bert’s brother. Abe despised him, and I don’t know what to expect, or if he even knew about our relationship. How could he? Bert said they hadn’t spoken in forever. And I’m rambling. I’ve already told you all this. And you kissed me. You kissed me like…like…” Shutupshutup! “Nerves. Sorry.”

  Grayson placed his strong hands on her shoulders, and his piercing, confident stare silenced the voices in her head. She waited with bated breath for him to rescue her. To say she didn’t have to do this so she could run back into the elevator, maybe steal a kiss or fifty, and hole up in her house again until she forgot about seeing Abe altogether. Why, oh why, did Grayson make her feel like she could let down her guard? It was so much easier to push through everything when she was in Parker mode.

  “You’re doing this for Bert,” he reminded her solemnly. “And you’re doing this for yourself. You can do this, Parker, and I’ll be right here by your side if you need me.”

  She wanted to kick him in the knees for not refusing to let her go through with it, but how could she when she’d insisted in the car that she needed to do this. When his hand found her back again and gave her a nudge toward the door, she forced herself to straighten her spine and told herself this was just another role. A role she’d brought on herself.

  She slid a practiced smile into place as the door opened, revealing a tall, svelte, older woman with cold blue eyes.

  “Yes?”

  Parker had expected a plump, homely nurse, not a beautiful white haired woman with perfect makeup, wearing a tight black skirt and a sharp white blouse. Grayson’s hand pressed a little more firmly on her back, and she was thankful for the support.

  “Hi. I’m Parker Collins, a friend of Abe’s brother, Bert Stein.”

  The woman didn’t waste any smiles, or any breath, as she waited for Parker to continue speaking. Given her flat affect, Parker wondered if she’d even known Abe had a brother.

  “Is Abe available?” She should have called, but she hadn’t expected there to be a guard nurse on duty.

  “Please come in.” The nurse stepped aside and waved toward a Victorian-style couch by the windows. “Have a seat and I’ll see if he’s available. Ms. Collins and…?”

  “Friend,” Grayson said casually, and guided Parker across the silent room. Long velvet curtains, an antique claw-footed desk, a Victorian-style armchair, and a grand piano gave the room a hands-off museum feel.

  When the nurse disappeared behind two heavy wooden doors, Parker whispered, “Friend?”

  “The focus shouldn’t be on me. I’m here for you, not for him.”

  Her heart soaked that right in, a sliver of happiness to calm her worries.

  The nurse took a long time before she returned, gracing them with the same icy expression.

  “Mr. Stein will see you now, but he’s had a long morning. Please keep it brief.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Parker rose to her feet, but they refused to move.

  “You’ve got this,” Grayson said loud enough for only her ears.

  His supportive hand returned to her back, and he guided her across the floor. He pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the unusually warm room with her. Parker’s eyes were immediately drawn to the frail old man lying in a hospital bed. She hesitated, her heart aching at his similarities to Bert. He had smallish eyes, a hawklike nose, and a sharp chin, but where Bert had been a bit plump and spry, even at eighty-six, Abe was all skin and bones. His knobby knuckles looked too big for his bony fingers. Compassion replaced her nervousness.

  “Well? Are you going to come in or stand there all day?” Abe grumbled in a tone too demanding to have come from the ailing man before them.

  “Yes, sorry,” she said. The energy coming from Grayson was like that of a guard dog protecting his charge as they moved toward the bed, beside which medical machines silently displayed numbers and graphs.

  “Mr. Stein, I’m Parker Collins, a friend of Bert’s. Or I was. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  His gray-blue eyes shifted toward her, stopping short of where she stood. His sparse white brows drew into an angry slash. “I didn’t lose anything.”

  She wondered if he was lucid and worried he’d misunderstood what she’d said. “Maybe you aren’t aware that your brother Bert passed away?”

  He waved a frail hand and scoffed. “I know that.”

  Her stomach plummeted at his rancor. So you’re just a jerk?

  Grayson’s jaw clenched.

  No one said this would be easy. Thinking of Bert, she forced herself to continue speaking. “I know you two didn’t get along, but—”

  “Who were you to him?” He clutched the blanket in fisted hands.

  His use of were gave her chills, but the way he snarled after growling the word him made him look less like a grumpy old man and more like the Big Bad Wolf. Families didn’t hate this deep. They couldn’t. It wasn’t natural. She debated walking out and forgetting the whole thing, but Grayson’s hand pressed against her back, and she drew strength from his support, forcing herself to try again.

  “We were very close. He helped me get started as an actress.” She blinked away the frustration and grief simmering inside her and added the most meaningful part of their relationship, hoping Abe might soften. “We were like family.”

  “Family,” he mumbled, turning away and chewing on the word, as if it tasted foul. “I had family once. If you and Bert were like family, I pity you.”

  Tears of anger burned her eyes. She couldn’t believe this bitter man was related to the loving, kind man who had been her most cherished friend for the last decade. Grayson stepped forward, and she reached for his hand, giving him an I’ve got this look, which paled in comparison to the turbulent expression he threw back as his fingers curled around hers.

  She took one last stab at civility. “I would like to talk, to understand what went wrong. Maybe we can get through it, if you’ll just give me a few minutes. Then I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Who says you’re in my way?” Abe snapped. “Christ Almighty, you kids think you can waltz into someone’s life and change it? What makes you think I want to get through anything?”

  Grayson squeezed her hand, drawing her attention. The slant of his eyes, the firm set of his jaw, and the angry tilt of his head told her he wanted to slay the old man, but he wouldn’t. He was silently asking for her approval. That touched her deeply. He’d not only volunteered, but he had pushed his way into coming with her, and he wanted to step up to the plate for her? She didn’t even know how to process his selflessness.

  She mouthed, It’s okay. His eyes narrowed, shifted to Abe, and he remained silent, giving her the courage to keep going.

  “Bert
was a wonderful, warm man, and I cared about him very much.” Parker’s voice shook. So much for years of acting. She was failing miserably. Probably because she wasn’t acting. This was real. This was for Bert. “You missed out on so many years together. I wanted to share some of that with you.”

  Abe Meaner-than-a-Snake Stein waved his gnarled hand again. “Pfft.”

  “Hey,” Grayson snapped. “She’s come all this way to talk to you. The least you can do is treat her with respect.”

  “Grayson!” she said in a harsh whisper.

  Abe lifted his chin in a silent grimace for an interminable moment. Parker was sure her heart was going to beat right out of her chest.

  Just when she was ready to walk out the door, Abe turned toward them and said, “Noted.”

  She didn’t know what to make of that, but her nerves were fried, her patience was gone, and she was sure she’d made a huge mistake.

  “I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She turned to leave. I need another calming kiss. Stat!

  “Tomorrow,” Abe said firmly. “Same time.”

  She turned and gaped at the old man. “I’m here now.”

  This time Grayson was the one who shook his head, warning her into silence.

  “Tomorrow,” Abe repeated. “Don’t be late.”

  Chapter Four

  IT TOOK A colossal effort for Grayson to hold his tongue as he and Parker left Abe’s suite and headed for the elevator. Parker was visibly shaken, but she kept her game face on much better than he did. Grayson clenched his teeth so hard he was afraid they’d crack, hoping to remain silent long enough to calm himself down before he cursed a blue streak and told Parker what he really thought of Bert for leaving the letters that led her here.

  The second the elevator doors closed, Parker grabbed his face and pulled him into a scorching-hot kiss, turning all that anger into white-hot desire. He backed her up against the wall, pressing his hard frame into all her supple curves. She clung to the back of his neck, filling his lungs with her sexy moan and setting loose all the pent-up lust he’d been holding back. His hands moved over her hips, around her waist, up her back, earning another sexy sound that brought his mind to dark, erotic places. He rocked his hips against her, and when her nails dug into his flesh, it yanked him from his steamy fantasies. She felt so good, tasted so sweet. He wanted her now, here. He wanted more of her, more than he’d ever wanted from any woman before, because beneath his hunger for sex and seduction was the passion to protect her with everything he had. She was vulnerable, sad, and angry, and he couldn’t take advantage of that; he had to protect her from himself. Now.

  He drew back, kissing her more tenderly, and finally, reluctantly, pulling his mouth away completely. She pressed her fingers harder against the back of his neck.

  “Kiss me, Grayson,” she pleaded.

  The ache in her voice shot straight to his heart, shredding his control, and he claimed her again, deeper, harder, wanting her to feel what he felt for her, setting free ten months of pent-up emotion.

  When the elevator stopped, he reluctantly pulled back again. Parker’s eyes fluttered open, and he couldn’t look away, wondering what had caused the unexpected—and exquisite—assault.

  She cleared her throat, fidgeted with her blouse, her shorts, tucked her hair behind her ear, and when the elevator doors opened, she said, “That should help you relax.”

  Holy fucking hell, was she for real?

  He matched her quick pace as they crossed the lobby. “Is that what that was?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her eyes remained trained on the doors as they pushed through and stepped outside. “Wasn’t that why you kissed me?”

  It had started out that way, but he’d enjoyed every second of it.

  She slipped on her sunglasses, walling off her emotions, and motioned to the valet. Damn, he should have taken care of that, but his blood was still pooling below his belt.

  The hot afternoon sun had nothing on the charged sexual tension sparking between them as they waited in heated silence for the valet to bring her car. He was acutely aware of the leers from nearly every male on the premises. Jealousy clawed at him, an unfamiliar and frustrating emotion, but hell if he could do a damn thing about it. He struggled to tune out the ogling men, fighting the urge to claim her with another flaming kiss, because if he did, he was afraid he wouldn’t stop there. It didn’t help that she kept touching her lips, as if she was battling the same excruciating resistance. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from acting on their own. If only he could turn his brain off, too.

  When the valet brought the car, he whipped out his wallet and handed him a few bucks, then opened the passenger door and motioned for Parker to get in. When she didn’t, he removed her sunglasses so he could see her eyes—which were so full of lust it nearly stole his voice.

  “You’re safer with my hands and mind occupied.”

  Her breath whooshed out. “I…Um…”

  He guided her into the seat and closed the door, wondering how he’d resist her when they got out of the car.

  **

  PARKER’S MIND SPUN. She’d kissed Grayson in the elevator to calm her nerves as much as his, because he’d looked like he was ready to blow and she’d been on the verge of exploding with disappointment and anger. But after a second, as with their first kiss, she’d stopped thinking at all and had succumbed to the greediness burning inside her, taking as much of him as he was willing to give.

  On the way back to Wellfleet, his eyes were trained on the road, giving her a moment to really look at him. His thick, inky black hair looked finger-combed. The muscles along his chiseled jaw jumped to a frantic beat. His sleeves strained across his rigid biceps. He held the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles blanched. He was so different from the men she knew. Actors tended to be slimmer all over, less masculine, prettier. There was nothing pretty about Grayson. Even his name was rugged. On looks alone, he was all sharp edges and bulbous, hard muscle. But she’d already gotten a glimpse of his tender side, and when he spoke to her, there was nothing rough about his rich, soothing voice. Like the emails he’d sent her, every word felt important, made just for her.

  His eyes darted to her, catching her staring.

  “You okay?” He looked at the road again.

  Um, not really. “Sure.”

  “What’s going on in your pretty head? Just spit it out. It’s better that way.”

  “I wasn’t…I don’t…”

  “You were, and you do,” he said with an air of seductive authority.

  “Fine,” she snapped. “I was admiring you. Okay?”

  His lips curved up in a gratified smile. “Fine with me.”

  “Of course it is. Just tell me this—do you kiss all your friends?”

  He shrugged and shifted a brief, serious stare to her before returning his attention to the road. “Don’t you?”

  Unexpected disappointment gripped her. “No, I don’t kiss all my friends. Not that I have that many, but…No. That’s weird. Why would you do that?” She should shut up, but her brain was spinning and her pulse was racing, making it impossible for her to keep anything inside. “That felt like an intimate kiss. A lover’s kiss, not a friendly kiss. I don’t even kiss like that when I’m acting.”

  He chuckled, which infuriated her.

  “You’re laughing at me?”

  “Relax,” he said so casually she wanted to slap him.

  She was too busy fuming over the idea of him kissing other women to say a word.

  “You never asked how I kiss my friends.”

  She scoffed but couldn’t suppress her relief. “You’re an ass.”

  “Probably. If you’re asking if I kiss my friends the way I kissed you, the answer is no. That was a kiss reserved for only my special friends.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of which you probably have a harem.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, and she held up her hand, silencing him.

  “Don’t say a word. I don’t
want to know.”

  He shrugged again. “You did great in there with Abe, by the way.”

  “Why didn’t you stop me from going in?” I hate the idea of you kissing other women!

  “Because you needed to do it.”

  “Right.” He had no idea what she needed; that much was clear. “There is no way I’m going back tomorrow. That was so stressful. No stinking way. Never.”

  “Yes, you are. Tomorrow, same time, just as he asked.”

  “No, I’m not. You don’t know me very well yet. I’m not going back.”

  “I know you well enough.”

  She picked that apart as they drove back to her house. He had gotten a pretty blatant glimpse of her losing her mind last night, but that didn’t mean he knew her. And she’d told him about Bert, and he knew she had a big slobbery dog, which not many people knew. But that wasn’t really knowing her, either, was it? She cringed inwardly, recalling that he’d also seen her morph into her actress persona. Okay, so maybe he’d gotten a fairly good glimpse at parts of her, but still. He didn’t know her.

  He pulled the car into the garage, and before she could gather her thoughts, and her bag, he opened her door and offered a hand to help her out. The designs he’d had with him earlier were in his other hand. She’d totally forgotten about them.

  She looked at his outstretched hand, realizing she was as attracted to the gentleman in him as she was to the stubborn guy who’d jumped in her car and the possessive man who’d taken her in that incredible first kiss in the elevator and pressed her against the wall. Oh, that was nice. You felt so goo—

  He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Friends help friends from cars. You overthink everything, don’t you?”

  “No.” You just get me all hot and bothered. She snagged the keys from his hand and unlocked the door to the house, hoping he couldn’t tell that she was still having trouble cooling her jets.

  Christmas woofed and bounded over. She loved him up, kissed the center of his big head. He pushed from her hands and lunged at Grayson. Grayson laughed as Christmas’s paws landed on his chest. Why did seeing him with her dog make her heart go all sorts of crazy?