Chapter Eight

· hilary ·

My night was spent tossing and turning with my brain blending over the events that had taken place. That phone call from Graham shook me up. My heart leapt when I heard his voice, and my silly optimism crept in, hoping he’d realized he made a huge mistake and wanted me back. Yet, I knew I’d never take him back. Never. My ego had been wounded, and I wanted him to feel bad for what he did.

The clock on the nightstand blinked, and the hour change had me up earlier than predicted. Rays from the sun peeked through the blinds, and I debated getting at least another hour of needed sleep.

The light sound of music drifted to my ears, and I smiled. Zach was awake. It was like old times. He loved listening to what I called his “old dude music.” I could hear Eric Clapton singing as I made my way to the hall. I stopped near his bathroom door and chuckled as he sang along in an off-key, high pitch. I pushed the cracked door open and knocked, peering in as he wiped a towel over his face.

“Morning.” Good Lord above, he only had a towel wrapped around the lower half of his body. I barely had time to appreciate him in his half-naked state when he lowered the towel over his face and smiled through the mirror. My jaw dropped.

“Like it?” he asked, turning toward me.

My laughter burst without restraint as I neared him. “What the hell? What did you do?”

“Don’t I look hot?” He ran his hand over the smooth part of his face, now clean shaven.

“You look like a porn director from the 80’s.” He had left a hefty mustache behind and taken off the rest of the scruff, which was a shame. “Dammit, you looked hot with that beard.”

“You said it was too hot for a beard.”

“So you decided to look like Magnum P.I. instead?” Tom Selleck wasn’t a bad-looking man, but he was the only one who could pull off the mustache and not look like a serial killer.

Back to the towel around Zach’s waist… My mouth went dry as my gaze roamed his chest, a bit of hair sprinkled over it. My eyes traced over every defined ab—I counted eight. Yes, eight. He looked amazing. Damn. And that happy trail… Even with that cookie duster of a mustache, I’d take him.

That mussed-up dark hair and those gorgeous green eyes held such complexity. He worked hard to hide his emotions, but when he felt something strongly, it was written across his face. And although we’d grown up together, I still didn’t know much about his early years. I doubted he’d ever open up to me about his parents, but one day, a lucky lady would know every facet of his life.

“You don’t like my lady tickler? I think I should keep it for a while.” He winked and bobbed his head to the jazzy song playing through the mini-speaker set on the shelves near the shower.

“Not a chance, bucko.” The sink was filled with murky water, along with the remnants of the hotness he had shaved away. I picked up the frothy shaving brush and cupped his now bare cheek, turning his head toward me. “This nonsense has to go.”

“Hold up, I gotta trim first.” He removed as much hair as he could as I stood beside him transfixed, watching him through the mirror. He faced me and smiled. “What about if I leave a hint of it? Just a hint.”

“Nope. Not happening.” He chuckled and looked down at me as I covered the leftover stubble with shaving cream. I unlocked from his gaze for a moment to pick up the razor. Before I could begin my work, his hands grasped my hips. He pushed me back and lifted me onto the counter. My yelp came from the cold granite that hit the backs of my thighs and from the power of his touch.

“Better?” he asked. His body rested between my legs, and although we weren’t touching, my nerve endings sizzled with awareness.

I swallowed hard and nodded, in no way eager to forget the way he moved inside me that night. An urge to kiss him made my heart patter against my chest. I wanted him to ravish me like that again. It wasn’t about feelings, or about the crush I had on him growing up. I wanted him to please me. All that stood between us was my large nightshirt, the towel around his trim waist …and his pigheadedness.

I lifted the tool to his lip and concentrated as I pushed down on the skin. Slowly, I scraped away the hair. “I really liked that beard, you know.”

“Noted,” he muttered as I worked on him.

My free hand rested on his cheek. Between swipes of the blade, my eyes met his. I wasn’t a girl who slept around, but I knew enough to recognize what was happening. It was evident in the way his breathing sped up, the way he checked out my body when he thought I wasn’t looking. He was struggling with his lust. It was difficult for me to figure out what was so wrong with giving in to me. He wanted sex as much as I did. With the tension between us rising, it wouldn’t be long before we ripped each other’s clothes off. I was sure of it.

His hands rested on my bare thighs. They were strong, warm, callused, and if they crept any higher, his fingers could dip into me. He’d realize I was soaked, my body on the verge of losing control and pulsing in a much-needed orgasm already. He was driving me insane.

“What are you doing today?” I asked to fill the silence.

“Besides shooting that porn?” He tried to talk clearly, but it came out semi-incoherent from not moving his lip. When I cleaned the blade, he began again. “Your brother gave me the day off to rest, but I need to catch up with Gabe, my project designer for the restaurant. He noticed some stuff with the place that isn’t up to code. Then I’m meeting with Joanna, our interior designer, to finalize some ideas.”

“Sounds like a lot,” I said, finished with his face. Images of this woman Joanna twirled through me. How pretty was she? Was he attracted to her? Had he fucked her already? I wiped his lip with the towel, removing the leftover shaving cream.

“It is. I have so many people working on this, it’s insane. We only meet once a week, but it’s really around the clock. I need to look at management staff, meet with the contractor, and talk to the chef.”

“Does Evan know all you have going on?” The stress of that on top of working for my brother seemed a heavier task than Zach let on.

“Nah, it’s not his problem.” He was about to move away when I caught his hand.

“Wait.” I studied his face and turned his head side to side. “Don’t move.” I took the razor again and held it to one of his sideburns, swiping to make them even. I reached for the bottle of his favorite aftershave, poured some in my hands and patted it over his jaw and neck. A little grin and huff emitted from his chest as I finished. Before he had time to draw back, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “All done, handsome.” I hopped off the counter. “Clean up all that hair, slob,” I tacked on with a wink before making my way to my bathroom. I was hot and bothered, and needed a cold shower, stat.

AFTER EATING A Pop-Tart and drinking my coffee, I walked next door to Grace’s. Her place was exactly as Evan had described. It looked like all the stuff you could buy from an Anthropologie catalogue but with an authenticity and uniqueness that went beyond. It was a style all her own, and very different than my minimalist condo in Boston.

We chatted between necessary paperwork and then had a Skype call with her family friend Stephen Jenkins, who owned the six townhomes I would be looking after. He was a kind man who helped Grace out when she needed it. Working with Grace and getting to know her better, I could see why my brother had fallen for her. She was easy to love. He was a different creature around her; as if she helped him become a better version of himself.

“Zach told me you’re a movie buff,” she said, heading toward the kitchen to serve us some lunch.

“Yeah, our whole family is, but I’m the one who analyzes them to death and posts about them on my blog. I’ve watched Gaslight about eighty times. Don’t even get me started on Hitchcock’s movies.”

“You didn’t want to act?” she asked with curiosity and set out two glasses of sweet iced tea.

“No.” I scoured through some old records she had in a box. She had great taste in music. Pieces of artwork she’d painted were scattered around, as well. “I’m more into watching movies and plays than being in them. That was all Katie and Evan. I guess I’m more like my dad.”

Grace finished making two sandwiches and placed them on the table where I joined her to eat. “I haven’t met your dad yet, but I’ve heard about him.”

“We don’t see him much. You’ll meet him eventually. And the other family.” Resentment rang loudly in my tone. Bastard. Although my father had tried to make amends with us, I was the one who had the most difficulty coming to terms with it. Grace gave a sweet smile in an attempt to comfort me. Evan must’ve told her the situation, but did she know how deeply affected I was by it?

“Are you going to school in the fall?” Grace asked.

I was thankful for the subject change. “I don’t know. I’ve been taking classes I don’t really need.”

“Why?” I figured Grace was asking out of interest, not judgment, so I had no issues telling her the truth.

“Because I have no idea what I want to do with my life.” I took a sip of my tea. “This is way better than the shit Zach tries to make.”

Grace laughed. “I’ve tried his tea. It’s awful.”

“How he’s opening up a restaurant is beyond me.”

“Well, as long as he’s not the chef, everything should be okay.” She crunched on a chip and told me that her friends Marla, Josh, Jaime, and Jaime’s husband, Dean, would be visiting for game night and she hoped I would join. “Tell Zach to come also,” she continued. “I think he feels left out sometimes. Evan says he seems distant…maybe lonely.”

I could tell she was concerned. I hadn’t figured him to be lonely, but I did sense something off with him. “He seems to make friends easily enough.” He constantly shared stories about nights out with crew members and staff from the location shoots. Plus, he had some of our friends back in Boston, although the number dwindled after Graham and I split. Sarah had gotten married, and Pete was just being Pete.

“Yeah, but I’m talking about relationships. He sees Marla and Josh, your brother and me, and he mentions how he only has Hank. But Josh won’t let him keep the dog.” Grace laughed.

“I think Zach would steal him if he could.” I thought about Josh’s adorable boxer. Zach was all too eager to take care of Hank when Josh needed a hand.

“I don’t know. Ever since Evan and I left Boston after Thanksgiving, Zach’s been preoccupied. Evan thinks it’s the restaurant.”

I attempted to hide my apprehension as awareness crept in. Was I the distraction? “He hasn’t told me anything, but—”

A knock at the door stopped my thoughts. “One sec,” Grace said with her honey-toned voice as she made her way to the door and opened it. On the other side was a man I recognized instantly. His voice was rugged, and I listened as Grace greeted him and let him enter. I stood as he advanced.

“Hilary, this is—”

“Benjamin Taylor,” I interrupted Grace and approached the up-and-coming English film star. He’d recently been on the cover of Entertainment Weekly and was being hailed as the next Cary Grant. “I saw you in The Special Kind.”

His bright smile reached his eyes as he shook my hand. “So, you’re the one. Sorry about that,” he joked.

He was debonair and sexy as hell. Grace looked between us and smiled. “This is Evan’s sister, Hilary Matthews.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful. Evan and I get on well.”

“He and I hate each other,” I deadpanned. He was uncertain for a moment until I smiled.

“She’s kidding,” Grace continued, as he relaxed. “Hilary’s the temporary landlord this summer.”

“Is she now? Should I be worried?” he asked playfully.

“Very,” I responded, lifting my eyebrows. The attention from this hunk felt great, and a little flirting never hurt anyone.

Grace chuckled. “Ben’s air conditioner is on the fritz. This’ll be a good time to go over and see what we can do.”

I grimaced. “No AC in Texas is like a death wish.”

“Agreed.” He nodded, his bright blue eyes meeting mine. “I might be able to deal in London, but Texas is another matter entirely.”

“It’s not that bad, guys,” Grace said as she grabbed a set of keys. “Ben, if you don’t mind, we can head over to your place and take a look at your thermostat. From there, I can assess things and call someone.”

“Of course. I’ll lead the way,” he said as we followed him.

Within the hour, we were back at Grace’s, calling an AC technician to look at Ben’s unit. The three of us stayed indoors, Ben unable to take the heat of his place. It had felt muggy and thick inside his townhouse, and I couldn’t blame him for wanting to hang out with us.

He was easy to get along with, had a laid-back personality, and a good sense of humor. He sat on the couch beside me as Grace took a phone call from her agent and excused herself to the other room. The TV was on, but we didn’t pay much attention.

“So, Grace and you are roommates?” Ben asked.

I fumbled through magazines on Grace’s side table. “No, my brother’s her roommate.”

He chuckled, “I see. You’re staying at Evan’s place?”

“Yep.”

“With Zach?” He sat close to me, his large body turned toward mine. I nodded, chose some writer’s monthly magazine, and flipped through it. “That’s gotta be uncomfortable,” he said.

“Why?” I turned to face him.

“Well, Zach’s always got women popping in and out of there. Hopefully, he’ll knock it down a tad and show some respect.”

My mouth opened, unsure how to respond. I knew how Zach operated, but the idea of him bringing a girl into the house while I was visiting made me ill.

Ben noticed my expression and backtracked. “I’m sure he’ll tone it down.”

“I’ve known Zach most of my life,” I said protectively. “He’s always respectful, and one of the best men I know.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, his hands up in a defensive gesture, the air of his voice genuine. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“He’s family.”

Ben nodded, careful in his response. “I didn’t know. He’s a good guy. We all went out at the start of filming. Although, we’ve seen less and less of him in the last few months.”

“He’s probably been busy with his restaurant plans.” It wasn’t my business what Zach did in his spare time, or who he was fucking around with, but it sure as hell stung.

“How about we hit the swimming pool? Find a way to cool off a bit?” Ben’s expression was hopeful, and swimming sounded like a great way to pass the time. I rushed next door to get my swimsuit, met Ben at his place, and we walked to the pool in the gated subdivision. It wasn’t long until we were lounging, getting to know each other. It was a wonderful distraction from Graham and Zach, and I finally felt like I might enjoy it here in sunny Texas.