First Take (Star-Taken) (10 page)

“Nah, he likes his peace and quiet too much. You know more than two days together and Mom and I start
‘sniping,’ as he puts it.” She motioned between him and her. “You and I aren’t exactly two peas in a pod after a few days either.”

“True. Still it
would
be nice to see you more often.”

Her heart melted at his words. He wanted to be closer. She didn’t know what had happened to make him want to return home and lick his wounds, but maybe if she talked to him more… “I’ll see what I can do.”

He smirked. “That’s all I can ask.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Hey, did Dad put you up to this?”

He straightened and looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh
-huh.” She knew when she’d been manipulated. Her dad was right. She liked to take care of everyone and everything. Robert confessing he needed her and would like her around more often just made her want to be there for him. However, she’d seen the pain in his eyes. It wasn’t an act. Her heart ached for her brother. He needed someone to take care of him too.

~ * ~

TEN

Stretching her arms above her head, Rachel leaned back in the old wooden chair that matched the desk in her bedroom at her parents’ house. The wood creaked in protest and she slouched forward to study the laptop screen. Something wasn’t quite right. She chewed her lower lip as she debated digging deeper into the code, possibly turning on debug mode. But that could take a while and she’d already been at it for hours.

The notification chime
of her e-mail sounded, so instead of opening the debug menu, she clicked Save As, changed the version number of the file, hit OK then shrank the window. She needed a break. Maybe after a distraction, she’d have a fresh idea on the root cause of the problem.

A few
more clicks and her e-mail showed an invitation to chat from someone named Devlin Quinn. Though the name sounded familiar, it wasn’t one of her clients. She wrinkled her nose. Her brain was too foggy from staring at code for hours and lack of sleep. Maybe a potential client, but it was too late in the evening for business—emergencies rarely arose in her world, and if one did, it coincided with market times—and the markets were closed.

Her phone buzzed and she picked it up.
Stephen.
She swiped her thumb across the screen. “Hey.”

“Hi.
” Her stomach did a little flip-flop at the sound of his seductive voice. “Did you get my e-mail?”

“
Not unless you’re Devlin Quinn.” As soon as the words passed her lips, realization dawned. He
was
Devlin Quinn, his character from the movie they’d watched. Heat swept her cheeks. “Oh.”

He chuckled
as she combed a hand through her hair. The great thing about her new do was it was low maintenance. Hours at the hospital didn’t exactly lend themselves to primping, though with dad out of surgery, she and Robert had come home after stopping in to say hi to Dad and being told in no uncertain terms by the man not to come back until tomorrow. Still, she’d been working for the past few hours, opting out of going to pick Mom up for the night. “I probably look like a mess,” she said.

“I doubt it, but I wouldn’t care if you did. It’s no vacation you’re on.”

With a sigh, she accepted the video invite. Her heart stuttered as Stephen’s image appeared on screen. Wearing a goofy smile that totally ruined his normally severe demeanor, he waved. She couldn’t fight an answering grin. “Don’t let anyone catch you with that smile. They’ll never take you serious as a tough guy again.”

He chuckl
ed. “I think I’m safe.”

Was she the only one who made him smile? Or was she the only one who he felt comfortable enough around to let his guard down. She wished she was bold enough to ask.

“So how’s it going, beautiful?”

She snorted. “I can see myself in the chat window. Beautiful’s a bit of a stretch.” He, on the other hand, dressed in a dark blue, short-sleeve, button-down with his hair perfectly mussed
, looked late-night-TV-show ready. “Going out?” It was Friday night after all.

Her brows drew together
. Was it only Friday? The past few days felt more like a week or more had passed.

“You okay with that?” He
raised an eyebrow, his tone defensive, or so it had sounded to her.

She frowned. What was wrong with him
? Had he misread her expression? More importantly, would he stay in if she said she wanted him to?

A wave of discomfort washed through her.
They were treading into dangerous territory. Sex was one thing, but she wasn’t quite sure she had the emotional fortitude to deal with more than that at the moment. Now that the stress of her dad’s situation had lessened, she was holding it together through distraction, hence the long hours of work.

She shook her head
to clear the cascading questions and thoughts. She swallowed past the hard lump lodged in her throat. “I’m fine.”

H
is lips firmed into a tight line as he clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward. “What happened to honesty?”

They’d known each other less than a handful of days, but here he was, calling her BS.
She did care. A small part of her didn’t like the thought of him half a country away, having a good time without her, though she shouldn’t be thinking of fun when her dad was still in the hospital. But it would be nice to go out and forget all her cares, even if only for a few hours. She sighed. “I think you misunderstood from the start. For a moment, I couldn’t believe it was Friday.” That was honest and didn’t hurt her brain with conflicting emotions and thoughts.

He studied her face for a moment. “You look exhausted.”

She laughed. “You think?” Then she burst into tears. “Oh my God.” She sniffed, reaching for a tissue. “I’m so sorry.” She dabbed at the tears and her nose, but couldn’t stop the flow.

He touched the screen with his fingertips. “I’m sorry, babe. I wish I could be there to hold you.”

The tears increased, and she swallowed hard. “I never cry.” She hiccupped as she grabbed another tissue. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

She blew her nose
then wiped it and tossed the used tissue in the trash can under the desk.
God, this is it. He’s never gonna talk to me again.
No one wanted to see someone else blow their nose. She grabbed another tissue and chased yet more tears.

“You’ve been under a lot of stress in a very short amount of time. You’re probably just relieved your dad came out of surgery with flying colors. It’s natural.”

Natural or not, if she’d been looking less than stellar before, now she was downright pathetic, complete with red eyes, splotchy complexion, and shiny nose. She wanted to disappear or, at the very least, be able to delete the last few moments from his memory. She sniffed. “Are you like this with everyone?”

He frowned. “Like what?”

She waved her hands, the tissue fluttering like a white flag. “So perfect.”

He blew out a heavy breath. “I’m far from perfect.”

“Oh, so it’s just me then.” Sarcasm laced her voice, but she couldn’t help it.

He shook his head and muttered something to himself before taking a deep breath. After slowly exhaling
, he said, “Look, I wanted to check in before I had to head out, wanted to see your face and hear your voice. I’m sorry if I stressed you out more.”

And now she felt like a complete bitch.
Her insides twisted, but she forced a chuckle. “Actually I feel better. I guess I needed a good cry. Sorry it had to be on your watch.”
Boy, you don’t even know how sorry.

A
softness entered his gaze, lightening the usual green to a grass green while deepening the brown until she thought of a spring meadow. “I’m not, babe. Glad I could be here for you.” His glance skewed to the side then back toward the screen. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I head out? I’m supposed to meet my business partners in a few. I’m gonna be late as it is.”

A warm spot burned in the middle of her chest. Was he trying to
reassure her that he wasn’t going out to find another easy fan? Though his business partners
could
serve as pimps too or even be code name for dates, but she wasn’t going to let her imagination go further along those dark, twisted paths. “Go. Go. I’ve got work to do.”

“Okay.” He hesitated for a minute then shook his head. “This is weird. I feel like I should kiss you or something, but you’re not here.”

“Wish I were.” Then her dad wouldn’t be in the hospital, she wouldn’t have found out her brother’s life was a mess, and she could let Stephen’s kisses distract her from questions about how long this thing between them would last.

He smiled. “
’Night, babe.”

“
Goodnight, Stephen. Have fun.” She disconnected the chat. She didn’t want to come across any more pathetic than she was, like she was waiting for him to say something more profound.

After drawing
a ragged breath, she held it for the count of ten then let it ease out.

Okay, Rach, let’s rock this project.

If she could turn in a draft of the user interface tonight, then instead of being a little behind, she’d be a little ahead, which would leave her feeling less of a failure, less lost, and more grounded in the one thing in life she knew with certainty she was good at—her job. First, she needed a shower though.

Four hours later, Rachel rubbed tired eyes then closed her laptop, sitting back with a sigh. Draft sent.
She stood and stretched, her spine popping and cracking as she twisted to the left then the right. She snickered.
It’s like I’m getting older or something.

The humor quickly faded.
Three days into thirty, and she felt more adult than she had in all of her twenties, even though that had been the time of most transition. Finding a job, moving out of state for said job, finding an apartment in a crazy-expensive city, dealing with wacky roommates to maintain said apartment until she could afford one on her own—none of that compared to the stress of the past couple days.

Already dressed in pajama shorts and tank top, s
he crossed to the bed and threw back the covers. After sliding between the sheets, she snuggled into pillow-top mattress, much like hers in New York. An image of Stephen flashed to mind. The twinges from their sexathon were gone, but the memories weren’t. They heated her blood and sent arousal coursing through her body. A content hum, overly loud in the quiet, slipped past her lips. Maybe she’d needed the mediocre sex and bad relationships of her twenties to appreciate what Stephen had to offer.

Twenty-year-old Rachel wouldn’t have been able to utter the words “pussy,” “cock,” or “clit,” but they were growing on her, especially
when uttered in Stephen’s seductive voice. She closed her eyes and rolled onto her back. What was he doing now? She would love it if he were here beside her, skimming his hands along her waist on his way to doing very naughty things to her body.

Her phone buzzed
on the wooden desktop, and she scrambled from bed. The hospital would’ve called her mother if there was an emergency regarding Dad, so it had to be Stephen
.
No one else called her this late. Heart racing, she grabbed her phone and swiped her thumb over the screen. “Hey, handsome.”

“Rach?”

Nate?
Her heart stalled then resumed a normal pace. “Why are you calling me at,” she glanced at the clock, “two o’clock in the morning?”

“I needed to talk.” His heavy breath blew into the phone. “Who were you expecting it to be
, your new boyfriend?”

Her private life was none of his business, but she couldn’t resist a dig. “No, I refer to my
cat-sitter as handsome.”

“You have a cat? I thought you hated them.”

She sighed and climbed back into bed and settled the covers over her bare legs. “I don’t hate cats, Nate. I’m allergic to them. Now, what do you want?”

“Why won’t you marry me, Rach? I can give you more than whoever-he-is.”

She snorted. “I doubt that.” Nate might be partner at a law firm, but his bank account probably didn’t look anything like Stephen’s. Not that she cared about money, but that was what Nate measured success and happiness by, though he didn’t appear all that happy at the moment. And unless Nate had been taking lessons in the Kama Sutra, based on their amateur sexual antics in college, he wouldn’t measure up in the bedroom either. More importantly than all that, Nate was about as emotionally supportive as quicksand.

Then she remembered her earlier decision
to tell him to get on with his life—without her—and she took a deep breath. “Look, Nate, I appreciate everything you’ve done for Mom and Dad, but it doesn’t change my feelings toward you. We’re just friends.”
If that.
“You need to find someone else to be your wife. I’m sure there are plenty of women in Houston more than eager to be Mrs. Butler.”

After a long pause, he
asked softly, “Do you really think that, or are you just trying to blow me off in a nice way?”

Uncomfortable by the uncertainty and vulnerability she heard, s
he laughed. “Both.” He chuckled, and she remembered what they’d been like as kids, before the hormones and the angst of their teenage years. “You remember my friend, Anna?”

“The blonde?”

She smiled. He always remembered the blondes. “Yeah. She’s still single, and she never missed a chance to tell me how crazy I was for dumping you.”

She ignored his “Ouch” and continued, “
Why don’t I give her a call? Ya’ll can grab some coffee and chat, or whatever.”

“You’d do that even after the jerk I’ve been?” His tone turned suspicious as he said, “You
are
going to leave out my off-the-cuff proposal to you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. We’ll just chalk that up to temporary insanity on your part. I’ll call her tomorrow and let you know what she says.”

“Thanks, Rach, you’re a peach.”

She frowned. “One more thing, Nate
. Was there a reason you were in such a rush to propose?”