Hollywood Ever After (14 page)

It took effort to shake off my stupor, but I knew I had to do something for me. I’d started working out. Getting my body in shape helped me heal, forming a sort of armor to hide my mental turmoil.

And Daniel changed. Not with the kids, or his colleagues—but with me. He’d never had an abundance of patience, but now he was incapable of showing me anything other than irritation or hostility. If I was sick, he felt responsible. If I was getting healthy and recovering, I was surviving without him. His erratic mood swings became truly terrifying outbursts. His temper made him into someone scary, someone I didn’t know.

He refused to seek counseling, though in moments of clarity he admitted to hating himself. He always hated me more, though. I knew it, felt it, and owned it until I somehow felt like I deserved it.

The first time he’d hit me, I’d been in shock. But I’d hoped it would serve as some sort of breakthrough. If hitting rock bottom—and I’d thought hitting me was hitting rock bottom—had to happen before we might be able to work our way back to each other, then maybe we’d find a way now. Instead, things got completely out of hand.

I drew a deep, calming breath. The fear was still sharp, even now. Too much of my life had been motivated by fear or pain…by my circumstances. I didn’t want to be defined by my circumstances.

It was time to move on, to face the past without recriminations or rationalizations, to live
now
. I didn’t want to doubt my self-worth any more. I didn’t want to settle or make mental adjustments to fill in for any real or projected inadequacies I might or might not have. I wanted to trust, to live, and I wanted someone to love me just as I was. I was worthy of love.

“Suitcase,” Shannon interrupted me, her voice sing-song.

I wiped the tears away. “Thanks.”

“That bad?”

“I’m good at boxing things up in my head, then ignoring them. It sucks when I open them.”

“How many boxes have Daniel’s name on them?” Her tone was cool.

“Eighty percent—give or take a bit.”

“This has been one hell of an overwhelming vacation, woman.” She spoke gently. “No thanks to me, I know.”

“Maybe you made things a bit more stressful than they needed to be. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to take anything for granted anymore.”

“Then write, and paint, with feeling. Let yourself get lost in all of your amazing creativity for a while.” She continued, “You know, I still have both the paintings you gave me hanging in my office.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Why? Because you’re talented and I say it?” She looked at the clock. “I think I’m more nervous than you are and it’s
your
life changing teleconference, not mine. You’ll like Frank, though, so don’t worry over it. Go make your call. You’ve got some papers to sign before you can officially collect some of that advance money.”

***

What a day. I’d signed the contract. I was going to be published. I hadn’t come to terms with that yet.

After a pleasant teleconference with Frank Graham and his assistant, I’d taken Shannon shopping. As Shannon had insisted on taking care of everything the entire trip, I was determined to get her something as a thank-you gift.

She’d resisted at first. “I’d rather you painted me something fantastic to hang over the mantel in Arthur’s place. Something bold and vibrant. I don’t
need
anything.”

“I’ll be happy to paint you something. But I’d really like to get you something now. How about a new espresso machine? You’ve been complaining about yours the entire time I’ve been here.”

One gorgeous espresso machine later, I was appeased and she was thrilled.

I couldn’t go home without something
Hollywood
for the kids. Especially with the outrageous amount of clothes and goodies Shannon had showered on me the entire time.

Once shopping was a
fait accompli
, we bought a map of the stars’ homes and drove the route. I wildly snapped pictures of what was supposed to be Sylvester Stallone’s mailbox, Meryl Streep’s front gate, and Wynona Ryder’s recycling bin.

We laughed a lot.

After cruising Rodeo Drive, we walked down Hollywood Boulevard. I read most of the eighteen blocks of bronze stars listing some of Hollywood’s greatest legends as well as a few still in the prime of their careers. I wondered if Josh would get a star some day.

Arthur joined us for a picnic dinner and outdoor concert in the park. It was lovely. Shannon and Arthur were absolutely precious.

Intense hazel eyes and outrageously out of control hair had only crossed my mind a dozen times or so over the course of the day. He’d said he wouldn’t say goodbye. Apparently my subconscious was agreeing with him.

I received a text halfway through the concert. Josh sent a picture of himself wearing a WWII fighter pilot’s hat. My heart picked up.

His smile was like a warm blanket on a chilly night: comforting. I wouldn’t put
him
in a mental box and lock him away. I was going to savor these memories.

Film’s a go,
he texted. I saved the photo and the text.

“Good news?” Shannon had peeked over my shoulder. “He looks dashing.” Her eyes were thoughtful as they moved over my face.

***

Now, after intentionally running myself ragged all day, I’d expected to feel exhausted. Instead I was restless. I lay in bed feeling drowsy but couldn’t sleep. The view from my window was amazing. The stars were out in force and the waves rolled onto the sand. I turned over and tried to close my eyes.

My flight was in less than six hours. I was ready to get back to the kids. But I felt something painful hovering around the edge of my subconscious when I thought about leaving Josh. There were times when his voice, his jaw-dropping smile, his sweet words and thoughtful eyes filled me with such happiness that it took my breath away.

My mind replayed our time together, almost like a dream. I sighed and rolled over again, his name a whisper on my lips.

“Are you dreaming of me or did you hear me come in?” His voice was in my ear. His lips dropped a whisper of a kiss on my earlobe.

I didn’t open my eyes, but smiled as his nose trailed along my neck. “I’m dreaming of you. You might not be here.”

The sheets lifted and I turned into him, sighing as his hands slid over my skin.

“You can dream of me every night we’re apart. Tonight I’m here,” he whispered.

Panic flared, his words stealing my smile. My eyes flew open to look at him in the moonlight-filled room. His face was intent, both sad and a bit desperate as he bent to kiss me. Warm lips, soft and light, brushed my cheeks, my nose, my forehead, my eyes, and then my lips again.

I wrapped my arms around him and held him to me. His body fit against me perfectly, and I pressed myself to him as tightly as I could. I may not want to admit to myself that I loved him, but my heart knew. I ached. The thought of leaving him tomorrow hurt.

He lay back against the pillow, breathing deeply. He held me against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and slightly rapid beneath my cheek.

“You look dashing as a fighter pilot,” I said against his chest.

He grunted in acknowledgement. His hand moved beneath my hair, running up and down my back.

I leaned into his touch a little and sighed. “I signed on with Bertram today.”

He pulled back, tipping my chin up. “Congratulations, Claire. That’s fantastic.” His eyes were warm.

I smiled uncertainly. “Is everything okay?”

He looked at me, searching my face for what seemed like an eternity. “No.”

I sat up, pulling the sheet to keep myself covered. “What happened?”

He looked pained as he took my hand, placing it on his chest. His lopsided grin appeared while his hands tightened around mine. “You.”

My face fell. “Me?” I whispered.

“Claire.” His voice grew rough as he said, “I’ve never felt this way before.”

My breath caught in my throat. His heart was thundering under my hand.

“I love you.” He spoke very deliberately. “I have no expectation of hearing you say anything, but I want you to know that I mean it, more than I’ve ever meant anything. I love you, and your leaving is tearing a hole in my heart.”

He let go of my hand, placing his hand against my chest. His eyes fell to his hand. My heart was racing under his warm palm. He must be able to feel that. He smiled, his gaze moving to mine.

I don’t know what I’d expected him to say, but not this. Joy filled me. He pulled me to him, catching the sheet to bring me close. His lips were soft and gentle on mine.

I kissed him back, shivering as his fingers slid through my hair, along my back, resting at the base of my spine.

He held me close, rolling so that I lay beside him. He leaned over me, his eyes intent on my face. “I don’t want you to go.”

I took a deep breath, but words failed me completely.

“It’s not a secret that I was dissatisfied with my life. Why I was looking for flaws where there didn’t need to be any, I’m not certain. I’m a bit ashamed of that. But that’s changed because of you.” He continued to watch me, his words whispered. “Thank you.”

“I wanted to thank
you
.” My voice was unsteady.

“Oh?” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at me.

“You reminded me that it’s okay for me to feel and want things…every once in a while.”

His molten eyes held mine captive. “What do you want, Claire?”

My breath caught. “You.”

His hand traced my side, sliding across my stomach. His fingers splayed wide as they traveled to the inside of my thigh, moving higher with intentional care. His lips covered mine.

My breath caught against his lips as his fingers found and parted the sensitive skin between my legs. His fingers were soft against me, teasing me until I was gasping.

He parted my legs and came between them, wrapping my legs around his hips and lifting me. His lips caught mine as he joined our bodies with aching gentleness.

His hands tightened against my hips, sliding up my sides. One hand cupped my breast, his thumb caressing its peak. His lips followed, closing and suckling my nipple until my back arched from the bed. I gasped, sliding my hands into his hair to hold him to me.

His breath grew ragged, replaced by deep, guttural moans as we moved against each other. His every touch, his scent, his harsh breathing against my chest and neck… My body tightened around him, needing him all the more.

He thrust harder and I felt my body tensing, pulsing and rising. A burning heat coursed through me, plucking each and every nerve all at the same time. Every inch of me contracted at once. I exploded around him. Echoes of heat radiated, bringing me back to earth blissfully. I wrapped my arms around him, relishing the lingering sparks of pleasure that his touch provoked.

His ragged breathing filled the room as he pulled me hard against him. His lips pressed kisses along my neck. He pulled back, watching me, his face red and restrained.

I could feel him, still hard and rigid. I arched an eyebrow. “Josh?”

“I want to make tonight last.” His voice was brittle, pained. His restraint was costing him.

I sat up and kissed him suddenly, urgently. I pushed him down on the mattress beneath me. He watched me, his face flushing as I threw my leg over him. His hands clasped my hips, and then slid up and down my sides.

I shivered from his touch, closed my eyes and slid him deep inside me. His groan broke off, his throat convulsing. Seeing him fighting for control ignited my passion anew. I sat up, welcoming all of him, and set a deep rhythm.

His hands tightened on my hips. “That’s not helping.” He ground out the words.

“Really?” My voice was a whisper as I smiled at him through my mussed hair.

He sat up, wrapping his arms around me as we moved together. His eyes bored into mine, burning with raw need. It was too much, seeing him look at me like that. But when I turned my head, his fingers caught my chin.

His breath was hot on my chest, his mouth wet on my breast as we lost control.

***

He took up most of the bed, snoring ever so lightly. I let one finger trace his cheek, kissing his forehead and breathing deeply. His smell soothed me.

There was a car waiting, with Shannon, to take me to the airport. I smoothed his wild hair gently. I chewed my lip, fighting tears. I made my way out the front door and was almost to the car when he called my name. He walked to me, a sheet wrapped around him, his hair on end.

“You were sleeping so peacefully.” My voice broke, giving me away.

He pulled me against him as soon as he could reach me. “Hardly peacefully. You weren’t there anymore.” His words were a gentle declaration.

I felt my face crumple but bit my lip to keep control.

He kissed my forehead, my lips, and my cheeks. “I’ll see you soon.” I could hear the urgency in his voice as he whispered the words against my ear. His arms were around me, holding me tight against him. “Claire, promise me.”

I met his gaze. He didn’t doubt his feelings. How much longer could I ignore mine?

But what happened next, now that time and space would put us back into our own worlds, might change that. If it did, there shouldn’t be any guilt. I wouldn’t make any promises that we might regret. My throat felt pinched as I let my eyes wander slowly over his face.

I couldn’t speak, so I placed my hand against his cheek. He grabbed me to him, kissing me and holding me tight. He inhaled deeply, his face buried in my hair. I clung to him, burying my nose against his chest, capturing his scent, the feel of him, one last time.

“I’m not saying goodbye.” His voice was firm, challenging me to argue.

I smiled at him, but said nothing.

He took my hand and led me to the car. The chauffeur was totally blank-faced as he opened the door, but Shannon was not. She stared at us, shock on her face.

“Shannon.” He nodded at her as I climbed into the car beside her. His eyes traveled over me once more, and he smiled his most beautiful smile. “I love you, Claire. I’ll see you in London.”

The door shut and my control evaporated. As we pulled away, I looked back. He was standing in the sheet, his hand wiping away a tear that fell freely down his cheek. My heart twisted at the unconcealed emotion on his face.