Famously Engaged (12 page)

Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

He shook off that question and moved forward, bending to read the faint scratchings on the bottom stair. In the firelight he read the year, 1997, below Beth and Brad’s initials. It was symbolic of the differences between them. She made time for the people in her life—sixteen years for Brad—while most of his interactions involved curt instructions to subordinates who helped him maintain his crazy work schedule. Why did that comparison make his entire existence seem pointless?

Suzy Homemaker couldn’t hope to compete with him. He was famous. Talented. Revered. The other members of Five Awesome

Emperors depended on his ceaseless dedication to his music.

Between recording and touring, he holed up to write new material. 

And when he wasn’t doing that, there were endless rounds of media appearances to keep him busy, charities to support, and

A-list functions to attend. He hadn’t had any downtime worth mentioning in the last eight years. There wasn’t room for
him
in his life, so there was no chance of squeezing Beth in.

And if he gave up his music?

He drifted along the hall, opening the closet to stare at their mirror, letting his thoughts drift. Beth’s haven away from the world was appealing, but it could never be his. And neither could she. If he gave up his music, he’d grow to hate whatever, or whoever, had caused the split. Music was his sole reason for being, the outlet for his deepest emotions. Without music, whatever it was that Beth saw in him would wither and die, leaving them both disillusioned and alone.

Returning to the sitting room, he stripped down to his briefs and tossed another log onto the fire, yowling with pain when sparks showered his bare skin. “Idiot,” he said. “Next time stoke the fire before you undress.”

He checked in with the security team outside, cringing when two abrupt voices answered his discreet call. The harsh static through the receiver distorted their words so he cut them short, annoyed that he couldn’t be a regular Joe and fly under the radar for one more night. Was fame worth it when you had to put in one hundred and sixty-eight hours every single week?

He stood looking down at Beth’s peaceful demeanor and willed his thoughts to slow. She was like the last breath of fresh air left on the planet. He was drawn to her, but the mere idea of allowing his fame to taint—
poison
—something so precious was unbearable.

“You need to be the center of someone’s life,” he whispered.

“I can’t offer you that. I want to, but I can’t.”

Easing onto the couch beside her, he adjusted their blankets and stroked a few stray strands of hair off her face. Watching her sleep was cathartic, but he closed his eyes to concentrate on her deep, even breathing and the elusive scent that was hers alone.

She was relaxed. Content. Safe. After three days with scarcely any rest, some serious sleep was in order, but he couldn’t resist pressing his fingertips against the fullness of Beth’s lips.

Here and now, his life was perfect. But perfection was fleeting.

…

Beth eased out of Jake’s arms and stood over him as he snored softly. With his hair in disarray and stubble on his jaw, he looked so much like a regular man catching a nap on his couch that she ached to lock the door and will it to be true. Being publicly engaged to Jake would’ve been easier if they’d maintained a reasonable distance. Living the lie in private, swinging wildly between believing it and knowing he wasn’t hers to keep, was chipping away at her sanity.

How a long-haired self-professed rock god had infiltrated every corner of her life in less than two days she couldn’t imagine, but his larger-than-life presence made it impossible to dwell on her mum’s passing. When he left, he would take his particular brand of distractions with him and she’d miss him as well as her mother. Planning ahead to ensure her schedule was jam-packed seemed like a good idea.

Brad wouldn’t be happy with her plans, but she’d need his help to execute them. Confident his spare cell phone would be set to silent at this hour of the night, she prepared to leave a message, stifling a laugh when he answered on the first ring.

“Beth? You okay?”

She sank down onto the floor in front of the fire and wrapped her arms around her raised knees. “I’m good. I know Jake said not to make any calls unless there was an emergency, but this kind of fits that bill. I need a man.” The clunk in her ear warned he’d dropped the phone and her words replayed through her mind in super slow motion. “Not you,” she blurted. “And not the way it sounded, either.”

“I’d say not. Not after last night.”

Her finger had jabbed the disconnect button long before her brain had decided that was the right course of action. What an ass.

Seconds later loud hip-hop music disturbed the stillness of the night, and she snatched the phone up to shush it. “Forget it. It was a bad idea to call you.”

“I take it back,” Brad said. “Start over and tell me what you want.” She stared in brooding silence at the phone until he attempted to answer for her. “You’re ready to let a man into your life?” He hesitated, as if he was censoring what he was about to say. “Do you have anyone particular in mind?”

“No. I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to repeat mistakes I’ve already made, either. I have news. Are you sitting down?”

His voice sharpened. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

“Yes and no. I had my first-ever date today with someone who wasn’t you.” He made a rude sound but she kept talking. “I’m not kidding. I could never work out why I didn’t like anyone you set me up with, but Jake knew straightaway.”

“
Jake knew?
You’re taking dating advice from some hotshot whose life is an endless game of musical beds? This ought to be good. What did your rock guru say?”

“Actually, it was what he didn’t say.” Her voice had risen and she snuck a worried look at Jake, comforted by the gentle rhythm of his snoring. “You’re my best friend and I love you dearly,” she said in a quieter tone, “you know I do, so please don’t take this the wrong way. The best thing about Jake, the thing I adore so much I can hardly see straight, is that he has nothing at all in common with you.”

“That might be the worst thing you’ve ever said to me. You know what? I’m going to hang up now and chalk the midnight insults up to stress and lack of sleep.”

“It’s not about you! I need you to step back and really listen to what I’m saying. All the men I’ve ever dated have looked like you, acted like you, and reminded me of you. And you’ve chosen them all. Don’t you see? You think I should be with someone very similar to you, and I… don’t.”

“Beth!” She waited out his shocked silence then winced at his curse. “You’re right, but I did
not
do that on purpose. I’m so sorry. I guess I thought one of them would have the thing I lack— whatever that is—and you’d finally be happy.”

“You don’t lack anything. We tried to make our friendship enough but it wasn’t, and when we started making each other miserable I ended it. So now, put your best friend hat on for a minute because I’m stupidly close to falling for a rock god with long hair, ripped abs, and an undeserved reputation as a player.

The whole world is watching and
when
he leaves, I don’t want to be standing around without a plan for getting over him.”

“Get a grip, Beth. You just met him.”

“So? How long does it take for lightning to strike or an earthhquake to happen or someone to ring your doorbell and set your life on a completely different path? You know how careful I am and how slow I like to take things, so perhaps you can explain to me why I don’t feel like I’m rushing?”

“I don’t know.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “Maybe the fake engagement has distorted your perception?”

“I like him
despite
that. We’ve skipped forward about three hundred steps and yet the gaps in our history and understanding of each other seem to be filling in behind us. He
gets
me in a way that shouldn’t be possible, and it’s almost as if he’s being absorbed into the structure of my house. He touches things and I know that ten years from now I’ll still be thinking of it as Jake’s mirror or Jake’s room.”
Or heaven help me, Jake’s glass-slipper breasts.
“You know how I feel about this place, I don’t share easily.”

“Take it easy. Don’t start crying.”

Too late.
“He’ll be gone in a few days and then I’ll need your help to keep busy and start what’s probably going to be a never-ending hunt for someone new. I want you to enlist the help of everyone we know, and everyone they know, to ensure I have a date with a different man every night for the foreseeable future.

You should ditch any preconceptions about who I’m looking for because I want to meet them all—bald men, short ones, old, ugly, even unemployed.”

…

Jake’s muscles locked into one giant ball of tension as Beth’s words registered.
“I want to meet them all—bald men, short ones,
old, ugly, even unemployed.”

He rolled over and blinked. His anger at her for making a traceable phone call after he’d warned her not to dissipated in a split second once he got a look at her. She sat on the floor in front of the open fire with her knees hugged to her chest as if she were desperate for consolation.

“I already know no one will measure up,” she said into the phone in a resigned tone that tugged at his heartstrings. “That’s why I’ll accept all candidates. Eventually I’ll find someone to make a life with, and in the meantime I won’t be curled up in a corner because my winning lottery ticket turned out to be a fake.”

Her gaze swung toward him and she cleared her throat.

“Oops. Rock gods are light sleepers and when they wake up they eavesdrop shamelessly.” She laughed at something she heard through the phone. “I will. Good night, Brad. Love you, too.”

The soft line of her lips thinned as worry settled over her. “I should probably apologize for making the call, but sometimes a girl’s gotta do…”

He nodded. The midnight planning session combined with her hunched figure and defensive tone clarified what she’d left unsaid. She was struggling with their public engagement far more than he’d realized, and rather than sex, she needed support.

Pushing himself to his feet, he held his hand out to her. “If you could do anything, without leaving the house, what would it be?” She didn’t budge from her knee-hugging position and her expression remained wary. “If Brad was here, what would you do?” He almost choked on the comparison. “Cook, sleep, play charades?”

Her startled laughter infused the entire room with warmth.

“I saw you scowling at Simon. You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” She got to her feet and nibbled on her lower lip as she studied him. “I’m not big on games, but I wouldn’t mind torturing you with Mr. Darcy.”

“What?”

Her wide green eyes, full of hope, fixated on his face. “I think we should snuggle on the couch and have a
Pride and Prejudice
marathon until dawn. I’ll make fresh popcorn, not that awful microwave stuff, and some strong coffee so we don’t miss the good stuff.”

There was no way in hell…

Beth would be happy, end of story. He summoned a smile, hoped it didn’t look like a grimace, and swept his hand wide in an after-you gesture. “Popcorn.”

Surprise registered on Beth’s face, then she crossed the room and treated him to a fierce bear hug. “I was kidding. I wanted to see what you’d say.”

Relief and confusion warred within him, but his body sang at the press of Beth’s curves. “This suits me.” When had he stopped censoring what came out of his mouth?

“Do you like cognac?” She laughed. “Don’t answer that. One sip never hurt anybody and I want to share it with you. I’ll get some glasses, you look after the fire, and I’ll meet you back here in two minutes.”

True to her word, she was back before he’d had a chance to miss her. “Spin the other way and stretch your legs out,” she said. She poured two meager splashes in the oddest glasses he’d ever seen and closed her eyes, making an appreciative sound as she swirled one beneath her nose. “Oh, so good. Don’t miss the aroma.” She handed both glasses to him and smiled. “Hold these while I get a spot, okay?”

The waft of vanilla-scented alcohol wasn’t subtle, and his head had barely begun to spin when she stood on the couch between his legs and braced her hands on his shoulders. He held the glasses wide, an incredible sense of rightness swamping him when she lowered her bottom onto the couch between his thighs and hooked her legs over his. He’d imagined her reclining against him but this was better. He wanted to face her, hold her,
talk
to her.

The last was a revelation.

She reached for one glass, then stopped him taking a sip from the other. “This is”—she blushed and appeared lost for words— “it’s not just a nightcap. It’s an engagement toast. From my father.”

“I thought—”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “he’s been gone for eight years. But cognac gets better with age. While he was still able, he bought two bottles for me so that he could be a part of the most important milestones in my life. The first bottle was supposed to be for my wedding, and the second, well let’s just say he hadn’t thought through the whole pregnancy and alcohol thing that carefully.”

His face must’ve given him away because she laughed as if to say
I know.

“Brad and I didn’t open the first bottle. He didn’t want to and I should have known right away that things weren’t going to work between us.” Her agitation left her and she smiled. “Our engagement is a bit of a cheat, but it feels right to raise a toast to it.”

Her hand splayed across his chest. He grabbed it and a diamond-encrusted gold band winked up at him. “Nice ring. Where’d you get it?”

“It’s my mother’s eternity ring. I’ll wear it on a different finger if it bothers you, but I have to admit I was hoping to keep it on this one till morning.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Wisdom could be a stretch—I was aiming for somewhere between amusing and memorable. Our engagement announcement in the papers was bigger than most.” She silenced him with a sharp look and flashed her ring. “And since it’s official, in that way, at least, I see no reason why I can’t celebrate with you. It means a lot to me to reconnect with my dad this way.”