Chapter Three
PARKER TOSSED HER hat into the backseat and grabbed her bag, trying to ignore the perplexed look in Grayson’s dark eyes. At least that look made it easier for her to climb back into her actress armor, unlike the warm, caring look he’d been giving her that made her think it was okay to let her guard down and feel like a normal, grieving, twenty-eight-year-old. Not that any of his looks in between caring and perplexed made anything about being near him easy. He was kind, caring, tough, and stubborn, and she needed a will of steel to battle her mounting attraction to him.
As she stepped from the car she stole another glance. His black shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. His low-slung jeans looked like old favorites, worn in the knees and frayed at the edges. Everything about him said he was comfortable in his own skin. She’d been that way once. Even when she’d been moving from house to house in foster care, she’d been comfortable with who she was as a person. But that was before she’d found fame. She no longer had the luxury of being herself, and she wasn’t sure she knew who the famous Parker Collins really was. But she’d been blessed with a life others would kill for, and she needed to get out of her selfish head and get on with what she came here to do.
She met Grayson’s assessing gaze, which felt hot and sexy and made her feel a little dangerous. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a dangerous type of girl. She was a play-by-the-rules, do-what-she-was-told kind of girl, as evident by everything in her life…besides last night.
She should probably warn Grayson, or at least offer an explanation about running hot and cold and the way she’d have to act while she was out in public, but what could she say? I can’t risk bad press, and I’m trying to hold myself together long enough to get through this terrible, awful meeting? That would make her look like a fake. She already felt that way most of the time. She didn’t need him to know it.
The impressive resort, expensive cars, and the smartly dressed valet heading their way were reminders of why she’d climbed out of her grief-induced horror-movie-watching, junk-food-eating stupor this morning. Parker knew how to play this game well, so she did what she did best and shifted her eyes away from Grayson, focusing on the valet.
Sometimes she hated being a celebrity.
Most of the time.
Almost always.
Especially right now.
“Thank you,” she said, handing the valet her key fob, along with a few large bills.
Grayson stepped closer, warmth returning to his dark eyes as he searched hers. “Are you okay?”
No. I’m in serious need of a hug, and a drink, and a mountain of chocolate. I need Bert, too. Her heart squeezed at the thought. Can you please bring him back? Just long enough for me to say goodbye and hug him one last time?
Pushing all those truths aside, she said, “Yes. Thank you,” too curtly for his kindness, and she hated herself for it. But being Parker under these circumstances took effort.
He held her stare for a few silent beats and placed his hand on her hip. “You sure?”
She was used to being pawed at and hit on, but no one touched her like this—as if they cared and didn’t need permission to do so. She realized that after last night, he’d seen more of the real her than anyone else ever had, other than Bert. Grayson had gotten a glimpse of Polly.
Fighting the urge to step into his arms, she said, “Yes. Thank you.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the resort, his hand slipping from her hip. She felt better when he was touching her, but she held her head up high, ready to take on her most torturous role yet.
Parker had access to private beaches, elite clubs, daily spa treatments, and just about anything she could ever want, in any city she visited. But she’d never felt comfortable in them, and no amount of money or celebrity could give her what she truly craved: the love and security of family. Bert had been her family, but now…
She pushed those thoughts aside, feeling like she’d spent her life pushing things aside, as they crossed the marble floor on the way to the elevators. She felt the eyes of several people on her. She’d never get used to the icy chill those first seconds of recognition brought with them, reminders to be on alert, ready for anything from people seeking autographs and pictures to handsy men and jealous women.
Relief came when the elevator arrived and the doors closed behind them. Short-lived relief. Grayson’s big body made the confined space seem even smaller. He smelled like sand and surf and sinful pleasures, and his scent was permeating her skin, bedding down in her nasal cavities. And he was standing too close, making it harder to remember a single reason why she should fight her attraction to him.
As if she wasn’t nervous enough about meeting Abe?
He touched her hip again, sending sparks through her veins and holding her transfixed with his penetrating gaze. He was clean-shaven, which made her thoughts travel to places they shouldn’t, like wondering about how those soft cheeks would feel against her face…and her body.
“Hey,” he said with a voice as enticing as melted chocolate. “You sure you’re okay? It’s just us in here. You can relax.”
Right. With your sexy voice making me want you and my brain telling me it’s wrong for no apparent reason at all and an awful man waiting a few floors up?
“Just don’t judge me, okay? Just us or not, I can’t risk bad press, which sucks, but it’s part of my life.” Why was she snapping at him? It wasn’t his fault she wanted him.
His brow wrinkled. “I don’t give a rat’s behind about who you have to be, or how you have to act for anyone else. I respect your career, and I’ll do what I can to protect your image or whatever it is you’re worried about. But I only care that you’re okay with how you feel inside, for yourself, not for anyone else’s sake.”
How can I be okay? I’m nowhere near okay. Especially when you say something so caring and sweet and romantic it makes me want to climb into your arms and stay there for a month. She swallowed that confession and said, “I’m fine, and I am relaxed.”
His eyes narrowed, and he stepped distractingly closer. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her against his hard body. He lowered his face until she could feel his warm breath on her lips. Holy mother of hotness, she couldn’t breathe.
“What…?”
“Helping you relax,” he said with a sinful curve to his lips before he slanted his beautiful mouth over hers in a deep, sensual kiss.
The first stroke of his tongue took her from shocked to whoa, this is nice. The next catapulted her from nice to she had no idea what, because her brain stopped functioning. His lips were soft, the kiss was hard, and he explored her mouth like he owned it, sending spirals of ecstasy whizzing through her. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be kissed for real, not as part of a scene, and oh baby, did she want more. She went up on her toes, trying to intensify the kiss, completely unaware that the elevator had come to a stop on Abe’s floor. Grayson stepped back, his hand still searing heat at her waist.
“Better?” Calm. Cool. Collected.
So unfair.
She lifted a hand to her tingling lips. “Mm-hm.”
As the doors began to close, he held them open. She wished he’d let them close and would kiss her again. He brushed the pad of his thumb just below her lower lip, probably fixing the lipstick his incredible mouth had smudged. She had the crazy urge to lick his thumb. To pull it into her mouth and tease it with her tongue.
“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. “Criminy, 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.”