CHAPTER FIVE
STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART
Grady inhaled her light floral scent with vanilla undertones and tried to wrap his brain around the fact that he was holding Arabella York in his arms. She was the last person he’d expected to see when he opened the front door. Shock had rendered him speechless, and so he simply stood there, holding on to her.
He’d wondered what it would feel like to randomly run into her one day, but he’d thought he might see her from across the street, pass her on a crowded sidewalk, or run into her on a flight. He’d never expected to see her on his front doorstep.
Holy shit.
God, he wanted to thread his fingers through her cinnamon-colored hair and pull her even closer. But more than anything else, he longed to tilt Arabella’s face up and kiss her sweet mouth until she melted against him. Memories bombarded his brain . . . her laughter, her smile, and a deep love for her that he’d tried to erase but could never forget. Ah . . . and the hot passion they’d shared, incomparable to any other. He knew every inch of her lithe dancer’s body, tiny but perfectly proportioned. She was uninhibited in bed, giving and taking. . . .
He tried to stop the visions from tumbling through his brain, but the floodgate was wide open and unrelenting.
No! What the hell was he thinking?
She’d left him. Turned her back on him. Shattered his damned heart without a backward glance. But none of that angst seemed to matter now, and he wanted to savor the feeling for just a moment longer before all hell broke loose.
Grady’s body reacted and he longed to lift her in his arms, carry her to his bedroom, and make love to her for hours . . . or days. He felt the warmth of her breath on his chest, and when her lips grazed his skin, he nearly moaned. . . . Oh shit, he did moan.
With a sharp intake of breath, Arabella pushed at his chest. Reality hit him like an icy cold splash of water in his face.
Grady dropped his hands from her arms and took a quick step backward, nearly falling over her giant purse. He remembered how she’d always carried a bag as big as a suitcase. Did she still carry a stash of mints? A bottle of water? A paperback novel?
Grappling for words, Grady risked a look at the face that haunted his dreams and had wrecked his life. “What are you doing here?” he finally managed in a husky tone full of unwanted emotion. He watched her lick her bottom lip, setting off another burst of heat in his blood. Pissed at his reaction, Grady tried for a glare to offset his earlier moan. But when Arabella swallowed hard and her eyes filled with uncertainty that almost resembled fear, a wave of protectiveness washed over him and he nearly pulled her back into his arms . . . but then she cleared her throat and looked up at him with determination.
“I’m here to do the—” she began, but Grady immediately shook his head and put his hands in the air.
“No . . . no, no, wait!” With the shock of seeing Arabella dimming a fraction, her appearance started to make sense. “Don’t tell me you’re here to do the choreography for the reunion concert.”
“I . . . am,” she replied softly, then cleared her throat again. “Oliver hired me.”
“He had no right to do that! I made it well known I didn’t want you here,” Grady said flatly. “I’m sorry for your inconvenience, but you need to go.” He pointed to the black sedan that had to be hers sitting in the driveway.
“ ‘Inconvenience’? I flew across the country, sublet my apartment. . . .” She shook her head. “No.”
“But you didn’t speak to me.” He watched her swallow hard again and felt like an ass, but she must have known he wouldn’t want her here, or he would have made the call to ask her himself. “This will never work, me and you.” He pointed at himself and then back at her.
“I signed a binding contract.”
“Oh really?” Grady folded his arms across his chest. “My name wasn’t on it, so it’s actually not legal. And I seem to remember you were under contract as Heartbeat’s choreographer before, and that didn’t stop you from bolting. We could have come after you for that back then, by the way.” He’d actually considered it.
Arabella stood silently for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “Okay, look . . . there’s no denying that there’s bad blood.”
“Ya think?”
She took a deep breath and raised her palms. “But I am here to do a job. Period. We need to be professional and get to work.” She gave him a level stare. “You know I’m the person to do this.”
“You’re the last person to do this.”
“That’s just stupid. I’m willing to put the past behind us and get the job done.”
“You’re willing?” Grady looked skyward and then back at her. “Wow, that’s . . . that’s just priceless.”
“Ohmigod.” Arabella’s eyes widened, and for a moment Grady thought she was going to turn around and bolt back to her car, but she stood her ground. “Did you really just say that?”
“Seriously?” With his arms still crossed, Grady leaned against the doorframe and tried to act nonchalant despite his racing pulse. “You left me, Arabella. Refused to take my calls. I didn’t even get a chance to explain.”
“A naked girl in your dressing room was all the explanation I needed.”
“Really, Arabella?” Grady pushed away from the doorframe. “I deserved more from you.”
“I think that’s my line.”
Grady blew out a harsh laugh. “Wow. I have no words.”
Arabella’s hazel eyes appeared stormy. God, if she cried, he’d be lost. “What was I supposed to think?”
“You were supposed to trust me,” he answered hotly.
“So you’re going to stand there and tell me that you didn’t sleep with her? Grady, you wore nothing but a damned towel and she had this . . . this grin on her face when I walked in. And you looked . . . guilty.”
“I looked guilty. Wow.” Grady ground his teeth together. Part of him wanted to shout that he was innocent and that he didn’t have a damned clue how that groupie ended up in his bed. She was just there when he came out of the shower. Another part of him wanted to go back inside his house and slam the door in her face. She was wrong for believing the worst, no matter how bad the situation must have looked to her.
“And it sure didn’t take you long to move on,” she added.
“And you know this . . . how?”
She sliced a hand through the air. “Pictures . . . everywhere, TV, magazines.”
“Right, the tabloids. Billy Bush. Reliable information,” Grady said with a laugh, but her comment stung like a hard slap. He’d never moved on. “You have all the answers, don’t you, Arabella?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She tiled her head to the side, causing her cinnamon hair to slide over her shoulder. Highlights glinted in the sunshine. He remembered her silky hair trailing over his body while she kissed him. . . . Don’t. Go. There. His board shorts could only hide so much. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Forget it.” Grady knew he had to stay strong. “You wouldn’t take the time to listen to me then, when I needed you to. That damned ship has sailed.”
Something flickered in her eyes, and her chest rose and fell as if she was trying to keep something inside. “Can you blame me? I didn’t want to hear your hollow apologies when the evidence was lying there grinning at me. She gave me, like, this little finger wave. . . . God, I wanted to slap her.” She shuddered.
“I wasn’t going to apologize, not then and not now.”
“I’m not surprised.” She glanced down at her purse, making Grady wonder again if she was going to scoop up her scattered belongings and leave. He should hope that she would speed away and never return, but his damned heart wouldn’t let go of her even after what she’d done to him. But he wasn’t about to let her know it. No way. “So, where are your brothers?”
“They left a while ago. No doubt knowing you were on your way. Damned cowards.” He was going to kick Oliver’s ass.
“Maybe they simply thought we needed a moment to sort things out.”
“Well, that’s turned out really well, hasn’t it?”
Arabella blew out a breath. “Look, Grady, let’s get real. Oliver said that the rehearsals have been a disaster.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Grady said with way more conviction than he felt. Rehearsals recently had been reduced to shouting matches.
“Then how far will you go?” she asked, but then her cheeks flooded with color. “Right.” Arabella jammed her thumb over her shoulder. “I can get in my car and drive away, leaving you with very little time to get ready for the reunion concert, an event that obviously means a lot to you.”
Grady folded his arms over his chest again, knowing that he was going to have to come to a quick decision.
“Or we can be professional and civilized about this.” She closed her eyes briefly. “And you know how much I adored your mother. You’re not the only one who wants this to be a success,” she added in a soft, husky tone that went straight to his heart. “You know I’m the best, maybe the only, person to do this.”
“Yeah.” Grady nodded slowly and then scrubbed a hand down his face. She always did know just how to get to him.
“Grady, I’ve already studied the old routines, watched countless videos, and I have some fresh ideas ready to rock. I can help,” she said in a soft, almost pleading tone.
Grady looked past her, knowing that if he gazed into her eyes he’d give in. He stared unseeing at the front lawn and felt the commitment to the Susan Heart Lupus Foundation weighing on him. He knew he needed to put the reunion first and deal with his feelings for Arabella later. The arguments between his brothers were getting worse. Oliver pushed and they pushed back. Jimmy seemed to be barely fumbling through steps that he’d struggled with even as a teenager. Jesse’s knee had given out yesterday. The last thing his mother would want would be for her sons to feud. And the concert was now less than two months away.
“Does it really take that much thought? You know the right answer. The smart answer,” Arabella said after Grady didn’t respond.
“No one has ever accused me of being smart.” Grady risked looking at her and it proved to be his downfall. Her hazel eyes were filled with sincerity. He couldn’t keep his head from nodding. “Okay. We’ll give this a fair shot.”
“Good.” She appeared nervous but relieved.
“But we have to keep things strictly . . . professional.”
Arabella’s eyes widened slightly and he could tell he’d hit a nerve. “Trust me, that won’t be a problem. Not even a tiny consideration,” she added hotly.
“I think maybe you’re protesting a little too much.” He couldn’t help taunting her a little bit, and it worked. She looked ready to punch him. Good. Them being pissed at each other was the only way this could begin to work.
“So, where do we rehearse?”
“I cleaned out the old studio across from the pool and I put in a kick-ass sound system.”
“Nice,” she said briskly. “I’ll see you at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ve got some unpacking to do.” She started to bend over to pick up her things.
“Wait, where are you staying?” Surely Oliver hadn’t offered for her to stay with him at the house.
“Not too far down the road.”
“Oh, good,” Grady said in the same businesslike tone. But he knew they had to attempt to get along, so he added a small smile. “Where?”
“A sweet beach house. I love the décor . . . everything.” She shrugged. “It’s just perfect.” When she gave him a slight tentative smile back, Grady felt a pang hit him in the gut. She had beautiful features to begin with, but her smile was something he’d always loved. And her laughter.
“Hold on. . . .” Grady’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. “The white beach house on Turtle Drive?”
“Yes, I assume it’s a rental? Housing was part of the deal Oliver offered,” she said with a little bit of a blush. “Do you have an issue with that?”
“The house belongs to me.”
“To you?” Arabella seemed startled. “I thought you lived here.”
“I do. But I built the beach house”—he cleared his throat—“a while ago. And then when Mom died, I just couldn’t let the family home go, so I moved here after I started the foundation. But I still stay at the beach house sometimes. I like the ocean view.”
“Oh. Well, it’s lovely.” She seemed to digest the answer, and he hoped she didn’t ask any more questions. “Do you have a problem with me staying there?”
Yeah, lots of them. “No,” Grady replied calmly, even though he was being bombarded by emotional torpedoes from every angle.
“Thank you.” Arabella nodded, but something in her eyes conveyed that she wasn’t convinced by his nonchalance.
“Of course, I’ll grant you your privacy. I won’t show up unannounced.”
“Are there things you need from there? I only stopped by briefly. I explored but didn’t open all the drawers or anything.”
“No. I mean, of course there’s some of my personal stuff there, but nothing I need,” he replied, but part of him wanted to go over there just to watch her reaction to the house he’d built for her. . . . God, the thought turned him inside out.
“Are you sure about me staying there? I can always go somewhere else,” she said, but he could tell she really wanted to stay there.
“No . . . no.” He pursed his lips to try to mask his feelings, but then realized he was making a silly duck face. “That’s not necessary.” He reined his lips in and then shrugged. “Plus, this is the end of the summer season. Finding a vacant house would be nearly impossible, not to mention that paying rent would mean less money for the foundation.”
“That makes sense.” Arabella hesitated. “Look, I know you must be livid that Oliver hired me without your say-so. But his intentions were well-meant.”
“I know that.” Grady nodded in agreement. “I was the one who talked them into doing this concert in the first place. I guess I thought we could jump back into the routines like it was yesterday.” He managed a slight chuckle. “I was so, so wrong.”
“Well, like I said, I’ve modified the trickier moves. We’ll still do some body rolls and shoulder shuffles.” She smiled. “And of course, Heartbeat should do the classic sideways arm presentation and hip-hop stance, things like that. But I envision a more mature Heartbeat . . . smoother, a bit more mellow, but with the same energy, if that makes any sense.”
“Perfect sense.”
“I mean, I have to say that I think it’s going to be amazing,” she said brightly, reminding him how much she had enjoyed choreography. “And I’ve got some super-sweet ideas for your wardrobe.”
“You mean we don’t have to wear the brightly colored baggy suits? Although I think Oliver sleeps in his.”
“I’ve got something more refined in mind.”
“Thank God.”
Arabella chuckled. “I want everyone to remember the boy-band excitement, but I also think we should hone in on showcasing the talent that was overshadowed by screaming fans back then,” she said soberly, reminding him that those days hadn’t been easy for her.
“We sure as hell can’t hit the high notes anymore,” he admitted, and when she laughed again he wanted to have her back in his damned arms. She needed to go before he said something stupid. “I need to give Oliver a call,” he said, returning to a businesslike tone. When her smile faded, Grady felt a dark pang of sadness. “I’m sure he’s hovering over the phone,” he added, his tone a little bit lighter. Navigating through their rocky past was going to pose a problem. And keeping his hands off her was going to be an even bigger challenge.
“Oh, sure, well, I’ll see you in the morning, then,” she said warily. This wasn’t easy for her either. While part of him wanted to voice reassurance, he didn’t want to soften. She bent over and finally scooped up the items that had fallen from her purse before turning away. She didn’t look back as she hurried to the car and drove away.
Grady stood motionless, trying to sort through what had just happened.
“Arabella.” Just saying her name was difficult, but seeing her? Touching her?
Grady finally shook his head, not quite believing she’d been standing on his doorstep just a few minutes ago. “Ah, little brother, you’ve got some explaining to do.” Shoving his fingers through his hair, he turned to open the front door but paused when he looked down and spotted a lone peppermint disc on the welcome mat. With a sad smile, he bent over and picked up the candy, thinking that Arabella’s stomach would most likely be giving her fits right about now.
Grady closed his fingers over the wrapper and opened the front door. He entered the cool interior of the family room and made a beeline for the fridge. Finding a cold beer, he cracked it open and took a healthy swig. After a few minutes it seemed like the walls were closing in on him, so he headed outside and sat down on the edge of the pool.
Grady dipped his feet into the water and wondered how in the hell he was going to maintain his emotional distance from Arabella York. Tomorrow morning, she’d be back. He’d have to keep his eyes trained on her while she went through the dance steps. Watch that cute ponytail swing back and forth. Listen to that husky voice of hers. Maybe he should ask her to put on a gorilla suit or something, he thought with dark humor.
Grady took another gulp of beer and swirled his feet around in the water, trying not to think about her in the beach house, but his thoughts went back to that moment when he and Arabella had been wrapped up together, naked in his bed after a long lovemaking session. With her head on his chest, she’d mentioned that she’d always longed for a cottage overlooking the ocean. . . .
“Like in California?” Grady had asked, eager to know everything she’d ever wanted, because he was determined to give it to her.
“Mmmm, no, I don’t think so. I have a soft spot for Florida.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you were so lucky to grow up there and never have to face a Midwest winter. Granny York had a friend who had this amazing little white beach house in Florida overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and Granny would take me there whenever we got the chance. It was full of serene blues and whimsical nautical stuff . . . shells and starfish and oh, the turtles!”
“You like turtles?”
“They’re fascinating. The rule was we had to pull the curtains at night so the baby sea turtles wouldn’t see the house lights and get confused and lost, thinking they were following the moon out to sea. The cottage was my . . . happy place, you know?”
“Go on,” he’d said, and even now he remembered how her gentle hands, her exploring fingers, would absently caress his skin when she would open up to him about her life.
“No fighting, and the sound of the waves would put me to sleep at night. I loved everything about the beach there—the shells, the sea oats, the turtles, the scent of the sea, but most of all . . . the peace. I always hated to go back home.”
Grady remembered kissing the top of her head and pulling her closer, feeling so bad that she’d had kind of a shitty childhood. No siblings, and parents who were always at odds with each other. She’d put one leg between his and said, “I feel so safe with you, Grady. I mean, I know my parents just weren’t meant for each other and should never have gotten married. If I hadn’t come along, they would have split up,” she’d said with a little hitch in her voice.
“So, you’re like, blaming yourself for being born? I can tell you that it would have really sucked for me to never have met you.”
She’d raised her head up and looked at him with those soulful eyes of hers. “We’re meant for each other, right?”
“Absolutely,” he’d said, and pulled her head down for a long, hot kiss. “I’ll never yell at you, and if anybody ever does, I’ll kick their ass.”
“Mmmm, that’s so sexy,” she’d said, and then used the tip of her tongue to make him hard when he’d thought he was spent. She’d climbed on top of him and ridden him slow and easy, squeezing another intense orgasm from him. . . .
“Shit,” Grady said, and looked down at the tent in his board shorts. He put his beer can down with a hard clank and slipped into the cool water of the pool. He swam laps until his arms and legs felt like rubber, wanting to be so exhausted that he couldn’t even think.
Dragging himself out of the pool, he flopped onto a lawn chair and fell asleep. Of course, Arabella slipped into his dreams, soft and sexy, making him want to—
“Grady?”
“Mmmm.” Not wanting the dream to end, he kept his eyes shut and ignored the intruder.
“Grady?” This time he felt a nudge on his shoulder, so he regretfully opened his eyes. Oliver, Jimmy, and Jesse stood there looking down at him.
With a curse, Grady sat up so fast that he nearly fell out of the lounge chair. He pointed at Oliver. “You’ve got some fucking nerve.”
“Yeah.” Oliver plopped down on the chair next to him. “And it’s a damned good thing I do.”
Grady glared at Jimmy and Jesse. “Did you asshats know about this?”
“Grady,” Jimmy said calmly, “there really wasn’t any other choice.”
“Bullshit,” Grady said, even though he knew Jimmy was right. He was more pissed that they’d done this behind his back than anything. “That’s not the way we do things.”
“You refused to listen to reason,” Oliver argued.
“I brought pizza,” Jesse announced loudly, and put the big box he’d been holding on the umbrella table. “And beer.” He tossed one to Grady. “I think you could use one.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a bunch of candy-asses for not being here when she arrived.” Grady popped the top on the beer can.
Jimmy sat down. “We thought it might be better to let you two clear the air first.”
“So . . .” Oliver arched an eyebrow.
Grady shot Oliver a lethal glare. “I agreed to give this thing a try only because I know we need her to not end up killing one another.”
“Good point,” Jesse said, giving Oliver a glance.
Grady took a swig of beer and pointed at Oliver. “If you ever do anything behind my back like this again I will kick your ass. I mean it.”
“I understand,” Oliver said, instead of handing Grady a wisecrack. “We’re doing this for Mom. Everything else is just . . . meaningless.”
Jesse handed Grady a slice of pizza on a paper plate. “Look, Grady, if you remember, none of us were happy about Arabella bolting.”
Grady tilted his head. “Yeah, well, I remember that you guys thought I was guilty as hell.”
Oliver raised his hands skyward. “I saw Arabella running out the door. She was crying. And then there was the naked chick. . . . Come on.”
“Really? Well, maybe if you’d stopped her I could have fixed everything.”
“I was a kid. And trust me, there was no stopping her. Jimmy tried.”
Grady shut up because he knew they were right. “Okay, well, she wants rehearsals to start at nine tomorrow morning. Don’t be late,” he said to Jesse.
“I want us to have our game faces on,” Oliver said. “None of this whiny crap I’ve had to put up with.” He gave Jesse a look.
“Why am I the bad guy?” Jesse asked. “You’re the one who’s been a giant prick.”
Jesse and Oliver started bickering, but Jimmy sat down closer to Grady. “You gonna be okay with this?”
Grady looked down at his pizza, trying to decide whether he was hungry or not. He was, but he wasn’t. “Do I have a choice?” he asked.
“You do,” Jimmy said. “That’s really why we sent Arabella over first.”
“This shouldn’t have been done behind my back. I’m still pissed.”
Jimmy sighed. “I get that, but Grady, you have to admit that we had to go into crisis mode. You haven’t answered my question.”
“It’s not gonna be easy, but I can handle it,” Grady said with more bravado than he felt. “Besides, I learned my lesson once. I won’t be fooled again.” He took a bite of pizza.
“So, she still thinks you cheated on her?” Jimmy picked a slice of pepperoni off Grady’s slice and popped it into his mouth.
“I’m not going to talk to her about that night. All I care about is making a shit ton of money for Mom’s foundation. Period,” Grady said.
“Okay, just checking,” Jimmy said, and clanked his beer to Grady’s. “We’ll get this thing done.”
Grady nodded, but later, after his brothers had left and he was in his bed, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about that night. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t give Arabella the ammunition to hurt him again. He’d never stop loving her; that was a given. But he’d be damned if he would ever let her know it.