Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) (13 page)

Jane
looked relieved. “That would be great.” She disappeared into the bedroom. Dean
prayed there was nothing too crazy in Shiloh’s closet. No telling with that
kid. Jane came back a few minutes later, wearing a plain gray t-shirt, black
drawstring sweatpants just a bit too long, and a hilarious expression. She was
carrying a black fabric bundle in her arms. “Um, Dean, could you explain
something?”

Oh
God, Dean thought, his mind running to all sorts of fanciful and horrifying
conclusions about what Jane might have found in Shiloh’s closet. “What’s that?”
he asked. He was totally unprepared for the real thing.

“What
exactly is this all about?” Jane asked, unfurling the fabric like a flag. It
was a
Once Bitten
t-shirt. Dean’s eyes got wide staring at a t-shirt
with his own and Shiloh’s faces on it. Dean, or rather Jared, on the shirt was
biting his lower lip seductively, which also showed off his impressive fangs.
Shiloh/Benedict was snarling, also with fangs bared. Damn Shiloh.

Jane
laughed at the ridiculous expression on Dean’s face. “Am I to understand you
were just being modest with the whole ‘I’m an actor but not a famous one’ line
the other day? Because, to me, this looks decidedly famous.”

Dean
rolled his eyes, but he had to smile at her. “You got me. I’m a super famous
movie star with legions of adoring fans.”

“Is
that so?” she asked playfully.

Dean
threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, that’s not quite true either. The
one thing I’m known for as an actor is this TV show,
Once Bitten
. It’s
not a big deal, but it’s got kind of a cult thing going on. Small but devoted
fan base. I play a vampire. Shiloh, the buddy who owns this place, plays my
nemesis. That’s him with me on the shirt.” Jane still looked disbelieving.
“That’s the whole story, I swear.”

“So,
with your come-hither and his I-want-to-suck-your-blood expressions, I take it
you’re the hero?”

“Maybe,
but a lot of girls seem to like his whole dangerous bad boy shtick. I’m told
I’m the wholesome one, he’s the sexy one.”

“They’re
wrong,” she said, considering Dean appreciatively. “I prefer hero types.”

Dean’s
heart gave a lurch. He changed the subject. “I’ve got coffee going, but no milk
unfortunately, just powdered creamer. Help yourself. There’s not really any
food in the place, thought I might make a quick run for some essentials.”

“That’s
very generous of you.”

Dean
smiled. “You’re my guest here, and you gotta eat. Back in a few minutes. Make
yourself at home. I mean it.” Jane nodded gratefully. He debated going over to
kiss her before he left, but held back.

There
was a small grocery store a couple of blocks away. Dean picked up some basics.
On the way back, he noticed a clothing store. A mannequin in the window was
wearing a dress almost exactly like Jane’s, but in yellow. Damping down the
part of him that said he was behaving like a lovesick teenager, he gave in to
his impulse and went in to buy it. She’d need to get some clothes of her own,
but at least she wouldn’t have to go out shopping in Shiloh’s sweats.

While
Dean was out, Jane sipped at her coffee and tried to take stock of her new
situation. Waking up this morning she couldn’t have imagined where she would be
in a few short hours. She was relieved, grateful, contented, but also a little
troubled. Dean seemed more than happy to play the rescuing hero, but Jane hated
this sense of dependence. Obviously she wanted Dean, (what warm-blooded woman
wouldn’t?) but it frustrated her that she needed him. She thought she could fix
herself, regain her memories, but until that happened, all she could do was
accept his offerings with grace and thanks. The inability to care for herself
grated uncomfortably on her.

Dean
had a boyish grin on his face when he opened the door. Just the sight of him
lifted Jane’s spirits. If you’ve got to be helpless and in need of rescue, she
thought, you could do a lot worse than the kind, affectionate, and absurdly
attractive hero she’d lucked into.

Dean
dropped two paper sacks of groceries on the counter, but it was a plastic bag
dangling from his wrist he seemed excited about. “Here,” he said simply. “I got
you something, in case those stains give you trouble.” She opened the bag and
saw a lovely yellow sundress, much like the blue one she had worn back from
Saint Francis, but minus the ugly stains and slash marks.

“Dean,
it’s lovely, but you didn’t have to do this.”

He
waved away her protests. “I wanted to. The blue dress is probably ruined. Now
you’re not stuck in Shiloh’s sweatpants indefinitely. I hope it fits alright.”

“One
way to find out,” she said with a wink, disappearing into the bedroom. Dean
couldn’t keep the smile from his face. She was back a moment later in the
dress. The color complimented her beautifully, but she looked slightly
sheepish. “Looks like I could use some help. Could you zip me up? I can’t
reach.”

She
had struggled to get her cast-enclosed left arm through the dress’ wide sleeve,
but reaching the zipper on her own was not going to happen. She turned around,
the unzipped dress offering a provocative view along the length of her back.
Dean held his breath as he came up to her and zipped the dress closed. Unable
to completely resist her body, he allowed himself one rest of his hand on her
hip as he whispered to her, “there you go.”

Jane
turned around quickly, hoping to mask the shiver that shot down her spine.
We’ve got to get out of here, Dean thought.

“So,
you’re all dressed up, got somewhere to go?” he joked.

“I’ll
have to check my calendar.” Jane replied.

“If
you like, I thought maybe we could go for a walk, just sort of take in the
city. Might be something you recognize,” Dean said.

          “That sounds
perfect.”

          They strolled
down Michigan Avenue and over the Chicago River, with Dean playing tour guide
at all the historic buildings. When they got to the famous Tribune Tower, Dean
pointed out the famous artifacts dotting the exterior. There was a brick from
the Great Wall of China, another from London’s Westminster Abbey. A stone from
the Pyramids of Giza, another from the Parthenon in Athens. Jane studied each
piece as if to absorb all the information she could. “It looks like a vertical
cathedral,” Jane wondered.

          “The top,
with the flying buttresses and all, was supposedly modeled on some famous
cathedral in Europe. In the 1920s, when it was built, the man who owned the
newspaper the Chicago Tribune actually held a contest for the plans. He offered
$50,000 to the man who would design the most beautiful office building in the
world.”

          “I think he
might have succeeded. How do you know so much about it?”

          “Local
landmark. I grew up in the suburbs half an hour from here. Coming into the city
was a big deal as a kid.” As they crossed the river, Dean talked about his
father bringing him and Nate as kids to see the river dyed bright green for St.
Patrick’s Day. Jane looked at him with warm affection. “And that would be your
brother with the two young kids?”

          “Yep.”

          “Think your
dad will bring Tucker and Alec to see the green river sometime?”

          “Actually, my
dad passed away a few years ago,” Dean said.

“Oh,
I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Jane replied.

“It’s
alright. My mother died years before him, and he never quite got over it. Nate
and I miss them both, but I think he was ready. It’ll just mean Nate will have
to bring the boys. Or maybe I’ll have to step in and be cool Uncle Dean about
it.” Before Dean knew it he was telling stories about his parents, and Nathan
and himself as boys. Jane listened happily. They were nearly to the Chicago Art
Institute, Dean halfway through a story about one Christmas when he and Nathan
got the bright idea to fasten Christmas wish lists to their bedroom doors with
Krazy glue, when he finally snapped out of his reverie. “Wow, the Art
Institute. I’m sorry, Jane, I’m here just talking your ear off. That’s pretty
rude.”

“Are
you kidding? I’m having a great time! I love listening to you.” Jane’s smile,
so genuine as he told stories, slipped a bit. “It’s not like I have any stories
to tell you about how I grew up. I could have been raised by travelling circus
performers and wouldn’t have anything interesting to say.”

Dean’s
jaw set a bit, giving his face a determined look. “You will,” he said with
great earnestness.

Jane’s
smile resumed as she put her arm through his. “I will. But until then I love
listening to yours. So what happened with the Krazy glue lists?”

Jane
laughed out loud when he told about how their dad had had to paint right over
the lists, and for years afterward you could still see the faint outline of the
lists on each of the boys’ bedroom doors. Dean thought it the most beautiful
sound he’d ever heard. “You two were trouble. I hope Tucker and Alec can live
up to the legends.”

Dean
grinned. “Yeah, Nate’s got his hands full. And they’ll be even more full in
other month. Did I mention they’ve got another one on the way? A girl this
time.”

“Oh
how sweet. That’ll be a tough girl with two older brothers to contend with.”

“It’s
good for a girl to be tough,” Dean agreed.

“I’d
like to meet Nate. And Samantha and the boys,” Jane said, a touch wistfully.
Dean looked softly at her. “So what about you? No one’s gotten you to settle
down in the suburbs yet.”

Dean
smiled, but there was something strong and maybe a little sad in his eyes as he
answered. “Who me? Guess I got to find myself the right woman first.” Neither
of them could have said which it was to nudge slightly closer, but they both
knew someone had.

They
turned out towards the lake and wandered through Millennium Park, admiring the
Bean and the famous Buckingham Fountain. The beautiful early spring had held
for another day, and even on a Thursday they saw two wedding parties taking
photos in the glory of the park. Jane admired the beautiful yellow daffodils in
the bouquets of one party. “Lovely, unstuffy flowers” she called them. Dean,
still in the mood to give in to his most romantic impulses, noticed a bunch of
early daffodils growing along a path near theirs. With a quick glance around,
he picked one surreptitiously and pressed it into Jane’s hand. Shortly
thereafter a short, thin, very angry gardener came over to exclaim to Dean that
he was defacing city property and could be fined hundreds of dollars for such a
selfish offence. Dean looked genuinely sorry to have upset the gardener,
apologizing repeated and answering with a lot of “yes, sir” and “you’re right,
sir.” The gardener insisted on confiscating the ill-gotten flower. Dean looked
shamefaced, and Jane did her level best not to smile.

“Well
that was fun,” she said when the gardener had finally stormed off.

“I
imagined that going differently,” Dean said, still in shock over the gardener’s
rage.

“I’ll
bet you did. Come on, let’s get out of here before you get us in any more
trouble.” She took his hand as they left the park.

Dean
caught the time displayed on a large, ornamental clock on a building across the
street. “It’s almost two. You getting hungry for lunch?”

“Honestly,
I’m famished. Should we head back to Shiloh’s?”

“Nah,
let’s stop for something. There’s a great pizza joint around the corner from
here. Chicago deep dish. Another local landmark.”

“If
you say so.”

The
lunch crowd was already emptying out, so Dean and Jane had their choice of
tables. They chose one outside, with a view of people coming and going from the
park and the hotel next door. Dean continued to tell stories about Nathan,
Alec, and Tucker; Jane was a most appreciative audience. She was laughing
nearly to the point of snorting when a couple leaving the hotel caught Dean’s
eye. Jane hadn’t yet noticed, and Dean quickly averted his eyes, but not before
realizing they were, in fact, being stared at. The couple was a young woman,
probably mid-twenties with a plain, somewhat characterless face, and a
middle-aged man with an air of academic condescension, probably in his forties,
with his arm familiarly around the young woman. The woman nudged her companion
and made a furtive gesture towards Dean and Jane. Dean kept talking, his eyes
on Jane, but he could sense the young woman staring. He really did not want to
be recognized, not here, not now with Jane. Hell, twice in one week would tie
the record for him outside organized publicity events, he really didn’t want to
be noticed twice in two days.

The
waiter came over to offer Jane more iced tea, and Dean stole a quick glance.
The pair from the hotel were approaching; Dean silently prayed they’d walk
right on past. His plea was answered. The couple strolled right past them. The
man caught Dean’s eye, and shot him a haughty, defiant look. The woman appeared
to be making intense eye contact with her own feet, but glanced up quickly at
Jane’s face. They were no longer touching each other. Jane apparently hadn’t
noticed a thing. Dean was intensely relieved. It wasn’t until they were off and
around the corner it even occurred to him that maybe he wasn’t the one the pair
had recognized. By then of course, it was too late to find out.