Below Unforgiven (22 page)

“Don’t take me back to Gram’s. I’ll go with you. Tonight. Just don’t take me back there today.”

“What, is he there?”

I handed him my phone, and his eyes scanned the text message. “I’m not ready to see him.”

Keaton sighed, long and slow, before handing me back my phone and shifting the car into gear again. “I’m leaving tomorrow. You can’t hide forever, Vivian. You may as well just talk to him. We’ll drive straight back to Gram’s after Idlewild.”

Betrayed by his disloyalty, I tried desperately to check my feelings before my mouth took over. “I can’t! I’m not ready to see him! I can’t believe you’d do that to me, after all I’ve done for you!”

With a scathing glance, he pulled onto the highway. “You need to grow up, kiddo.”

That one burned. It fucking burned so much I wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle. “Pull over!”

“No. You agreed to this brunch, and you’re going.”

“Take this,” I growled, trying to wrench the ring off of my finger, but the stupid
goddamn
thing was stuck. I knew the hives on my neck were going to start itching in about five seconds.

“You know, you’ll have to learn to control your emotions. Directors won’t wait around for you to stop flushing.”

“Fuck off,” I delivered lamely, giving up on the ring and turning away from him.

“You’re only pissed because you know I’m right. You agreed to marry this guy, and you almost had a child with him. Don’t you think he deserves at least a conversation?”

“I agreed to marry
you
, so obviously commitment means very little to me.”

“You like to be chased.” He turned off of an exit, and my jaw dropped in fury. “You enjoy being wanted, it makes you feel better about yourself.”

“Pull over!” I screamed this time, and he shook his head again, resolute.

“Absofuckinglutely not. Sit back. Work up an appetite, we’re having eggs and bacon.”

My stomach lurched, and I had no choice but to sit back and hold my waist with a groan. My anger simmered as his phone rang, and after a quick glance at the number, he answered it. “Keaton Thane.”

I listened to him give his director name, fully expecting it to be some business call. After a long moment of silence, he looked over at me, and then back at the road. “Have they caught him? Who else has the script? Okay, I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll get a flight in the morning. Thanks, Frank.”

He disconnected, and I waited, curiosity nagging at me. Finally, I cleared my throat. “You’re flying?”

His concentration on the road was unsettling. Something was wrong. “Yes. Something happened, and I need to get back.”

“Is it your wife?” I couldn’t help but clip the last word, and he shook his head slightly.

“No. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. Are we okay? Are you done with your tantrum?”

“Tantrum?
Fuck
-”

“
-me
, I know. But are you?”

“Yes!” I snapped, exasperated, turning to the door again and twisting my hair.

“Good. Smile pretty for the cameras.”

As we pulled into a restaurant called The Avenue, I paled at the news vans and trailers parked outside the lot. Luke stood by the door, speaking to one of the reporters, and Keaton reached for his aviators, exhaling slowly.

“Why are these reporters here?” I stammered. They all turned slowly toward us like zombies. “What-…,”

“There was a murder. At an amusement park in Kansas. Exactly how it was done in the script for
Round-Up.
”

“
What?!
” I watched him walk around the car as the reporters honed in, and he gave a small wave and a grin.

“Come on, and remember, you’re my fiancé.”

“What! I can’t-
Keaton
-”

“Mr. Thane! Mr. Thane, have you heard about the Pennant Park murder?”

“Mr. Thane, what is your reaction to the murder? Does it appear to be a copy-cat killer?”

“Copy-cats copy other murders,” he helped me out of the car, gripping my hand tightly. “A script is just a script. Fiction.”

“Is it true that only a few people have seen the script for
Round-Up?
”

“Where were you on Friday night?”

“Is this your girlfriend?”

No hives, no hives,
I prayed silently, flashing a charming smile and linking my arm through Keaton’s. “I’m Keaton’s fiancé, Vivian Hale, and Keaton was with
me
on Friday night, helping me ring in my birthday. I’m twenty-one,” I gushed, and suddenly the microphones were shifted in my direction.

“Are you an actress, Miss Hale?”

I tried to focus on her face, but my eyes zeroed in on the giant
E
on her microphone.
Entertainment Tonight? Breathe-breathe-

“How long have you been engaged?”

“Keaton, aren’t you still married to Kelsey King?”

“Please excuse us,” Keaton snapped, leading me a little too forcefully though the doors of the restaurant. The owner stood just outside the doors, refusing entry to any of the newscasters.

As we approached the banquet room, Madeline was pacing, and Jane rushed to us immediately. “Keaton! Vivian, are you okay? They’re like wolves! I don’t even know how they found you,” she poured, hugging Keaton tightly.

“It’s okay, Mom, that’s their job. Hey, are we eating? How was your night?”

“How was my night? Keaton, honey, there was a
murder-…,
”

“There are murders every day. There are not, however, newlywed brunches for my brother and sister-in-law.” He reached for Madeline, pulling her into a firm hug. “Now everyone sit down, and try to ignore them. I’m not that important. They’ll leave eventually.”

I watched him command the entire table as I accepted the chair that he pulled out for me. Overwhelmed with what had happened between us last night, Matthew’s announcement that he would be waiting for me at Gram’s, and now a
murder
that directly involved Keaton’s movie, my hung-over stomach could barely read the menu without dry heaving.

When Keaton’s arm draped over my shoulders, I calmed-a little. “Some dry toast and fruit,” he suggested, his baritone voice soothing as his fingers curled over my left hand. “By the way, this ring looks perfect on your finger, Miss Hale.”

To my furious dismay, I leaned into his side, lifting my lips to his shaven jaw. He smiled and turned to my kiss.

“Keaton, we
need
to talk.”

“We will. Let’s enjoy breakfast, say good-bye to my family, and get on the road first, okay?”

He constantly weaved between crazy and sane, and yet made complete and utter sense. I could only nod at his authoritative tone. “Okay. But I’m still pissed at you. Just so you know.”

“Good,” he caught my lips with his at the same time he pinched my knee. “What I’ve learned about you already, kiddo, is that pissed is just one step closer to horny.” I flushed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard him. He squeezed my knee again, shaking his head slightly. “No one hears me but you. And that makes me very happy.”

I swallowed, reaching for my glass of ice water.

My mind began to
attempt
to sort through the haze as breakfast was served, and I half-listened to the wedding recap conversations as I watched Keaton laugh with his brother.

His confident voice managed to carry on several conversations at once, while still making each person feel like they were the most special one in the room.

And suddenly, I felt like I’d reached the top of the highest hill on a roller coaster, with nothing to hold on to but Keaton’s arm.

I’m falling in love with him.

I was probably
already
in love with him, but my stubborn will refused to allow me to believe that I’d fallen in love with a man like Keaton over the course of three days.

People don’t just fall in love in three days.
They fall in lust.

I hated the books that I read about a chance encounter, instant sparks, and a love that lasted a lifetime (or at least for another twenty or so chapters.)

And yet, I’d fallen right in love… with Matthew. Hadn’t I?

Cringing, I looked down at my engagement ring.

There was never a
Pretty Woman
Two
because after he showed up in his limo and they rescued each other, she realized they’d only been together for one
week
. So she took all of her Rodeo Drive, shoulder-pad-clad pantsuits and moved the fuck
on
.

I gripped Keaton’s arm even tighter when I remembered the message on my phone.

I was going to see Matthew tonight.

It had been so long since the last time Matthew had held me in his arms. The ache in my chest confirmed that the memories were still raw, but I knew that Keaton was right. I almost
married
this man. We almost had a child together, and a house, and a life…

We almost had everything.

I owed him at least a conversation. An awkward, miserable conversation.

“You’re far away, Viv.” Robin leaned across the table to me, taking my left hand in hers. “You must have a lot on your mind.”

She spun the engagement ring around to straighten the diamond.

I shrugged, turning my eyes back down to my lap.

The finality of the good-bye hugs that I shared with his family hung heavy in the air of the restaurant. I’d see Robin and Jane in town, but not Luke. When Keaton’s younger brother wrapped his arms around me, I jumped as his mouth moved to my ear.

“Whatever Keaton tells you, you need to know this. He’s got something
real
for you, Viv. I know my brother better than anyone. I don’t know what you want to do with that, but… you need to know.”

I nodded against Luke’s cheek, smiling wide and pretending that he hadn’t just confirmed exactly what I’d been mulling over for the last two hours.

We both changed into jeans for the park, and by the time we were back in the car, my thoughts were at war with my emotions.

But my logic brought a knife to a fucking gun fight, and my hormones won out over all common sense.

“Keaton?”

He edged onto the turnpike, raising his eyebrows without looking in my direction. “Hmn?”

I took a deep breath. His eyes were on me, and I took his hand, watching his expression.

“This is the part where I stubbornly refuse to be with you, for really… no good reason at all. Where I run back to my Gram, and you go home to LA, and some terrible, sad song plays during a montage of me working at the video store all depressed, and you sitting in some office somewhere with your glass of whiskey, staring out over the Los Angeles skyline… missing the hell out of me.”

He pushed his sunglasses up to his forehead, his eyes darting between me and the road several times. He reminded me of an anxious little boy on Christmas morning, not sure which gift to open first.

Finally, he nodded. “And then I say fuck it, and I get on a plane and go straight to the video store, sweeping you into my arms and carrying you out of there like Richard Gere in
An Officer and a Gentleman.
And you’ve got this line of customers behind you, gripping their porn to their chests, waving good-bye and turning to say to each other-with tears glistening in their eyes- ‘see, dreams really
do
come true.’”

I grinned at the vivid scene he described. “And then on to the sequel. I go to LA with you, and we try to make it work, but I’m so lonely, and you’re working all the time, and then Kelsey drops by all preggers and is like, ‘you’re out of your league, bitch.’”

“But then her kid is born half black, so I take the money I would have spent on a paternity test and put it toward my divorce. We opt for a small wedding back here with my family and Gram.”

“But then Robin gets involved, and it turns into a gigantic production, and helicopters are hovering overhead because your last movie was a blockbuster-…,”

“… and you starred in it, so it’s the Hollywood wedding of the century. Director and actress fall in love on the set-…,”

“… overdone. Clichéd. But totally your style.”

He smirked, lifting my hand to his lips. “How many kids do we have?”

I stiffened, pulling my hand away. “Keaton. You know I’m just…,”

“Come on, how many?”

“None. I don’t want any kids.”

“Why?” He demanded, dropping his glasses back over his eyes.

“You’re working all the time. I’m working all the time. We’re constantly hounded by paparazzi. That’s no life to raise a child in.”

He seemed relieved as I continued our little game, shrugging. “Wait, V. I got us a nanny. We’re set.”

“And then I get home one day from a long shoot, and you’re in
bed
with the nanny.”

“She looks like Mrs. Doubtfire. In fact, she
is
a man. And she’s mute, and teaches our daughter sign language.”

“What?” I laughed, my shoulders shaking as I tried keep the story going. “Okay… and so then when I find you in bed with our cross-dressing mute nanny, I…,”

I reached for my hair, and he watched me from the corner of his eye as I twisted a long strand in my fingers.

“You what?” He challenged with an encouraging grin.

“I run.”

My smile fell, and I turned toward the door.

“You run?”

“I run. I run away from everything that’s difficult. And then I create a new set of problems, and then I run from those. I just keep running.”

He listened to me in silence, shifting in the driver’s seat and adjusting the rearview mirror. “You’re twenty-one years old. A little young to make such broad generalizations about yourself.”

“Well, you know enough about me. Tell me I’m wrong. You just told me that I like to be chased. Is that it? I want to be chased? Or do I just want to forget?”

I gripped the door as he swung into a rest stop. I thought he’d choose a parking space, but instead he pulled along the edge of the grass, near a picnic table.

When he threw the car into park, I turned to him with wide eyes.

“Listen,” his stern tone forced my eyes to widen. “I’m going to cut the shit right now. Okay? Do I have your full attention?”