Hometown Star (19 page)

His words cut right through the barbed wire wrapped around her heart. Did she really make him feel those things? Love flooded her heart. For tonight, she’d allow herself to love him back. No thinking. Just for tonight.

He led her down the hall to the bedroom. With great care, Cade laid her on the bed. Taking his time, he made love to her. All of her, every single inch. When he was through, Star had trouble remembering her name, much less why she thought her life was elsewhere.

If Cade were childless, would she find a way to make things work between them?

The question haunted her, continued to haunt her well into the next morning while she wrapped up the rest of Patsy’s paintings. She stopped by the post office to ship them to Seattle where she’d go through them at her leisure. She didn’t have the heart to tackle the job now. Once she completed that task, she made her goodbyes with Brandi, Bud, and baby Will. Cade and the kids were waiting for her when she finished.

They followed her to the airport, waiting while she dropped off her rental car, then walked with her as far as they could.

“This is it,” she said when she had to part from them.

Emma threw her arms around Star, squeezing tight. “Don’t go.”

Star’s heart constricted painfully in her chest. “I have to. Don’t forget to daydream.”

“I won’t,” Emma said.

She bent and kissed the little girl, then looked to Finn.

Finn’s lip stuck out.

“Let me know if you catch a bird.” Star kissed his forehead, then ruffled his hair, and he let her, almost leaning into her caress. “Be good, kiddo.”

Emma thrust a package at her. “We made you something, so you won’t feel sad when you don’t see us anymore.”

“Thank you.” Star hugged the brightly wrapped gift to her chest, knowing she’d cherish it no matter what it was. “I’m going to miss you guys.”

She turned to Brad. “Behave, Brad. No more sneaking out.”

“Yeah, right.” He gave her a cocky grin.

“Okay, kids.” Cade pointed to a bank of nearby chairs. “Wait over there. I have some things to say to Star in private.”

Brad ushered the kids away.

“I miss you already,” Cade said tightly.

“I miss you, too.”

“Call me if you miss your period,” Cade said. “I want to know, Star. Promise you’ll call.”

“I promise.” Star rose up on her toes and kissed him. “Goodbye, Cade.” She pulled her hands free and took a step away, but he snagged her arm, stopping her. Before she could protest, his mouth took hers, the kiss scattering Star’s wits. She clung to him, never wanting to let him go.

Then Cade broke the kiss. Without a word, he left her.

Star touched her lips, watching Cade and the kids until they disappeared from view. With an aching heart, she boarded the plane. Once seated, she opened the package the kids had given her. Inside was a beautiful drawing, a picture of Star, Cade, Finn, Emma, and Brad, standing in front of what could only be their big, Victorian house. Star ran her hand lovingly over the crayon drawing, missing them already. She thought about Cade and the kids the entire way home, and when she got too sad, she made herself think about her job, about the promotion she so wanted.

When she reached her condo, she let herself in, inhaled the scent of the new hardwood floors, the fresh paint, and then promptly burst into tears.

“You did a fabulous job in Alaska,” Frank said.

Star tossed her purse in her desk drawer, kicking it closed with a high heel. “Thanks. Did I miss anything good while I was gone?”

“Same old, same old here,” Frank said. “Vivienne didn’t return home with us from the Fairbanks segment. Rumor is she’s with some guy she met at a local bar.”

Star bit back a smile. “Really?”

“Yes. Who knew that she’d like the rugged outdoor type?”

“Who knew?” Star agreed, thinking she could say the same for herself. Thinking about Cade sobered her instantly.

Frank gave her a sideways look. “You okay?”

“Sure.” She’d never suffered heartache before, but she was pretty sure she had a case of it now. But she’d survive it. She’d survived much worse.

“You seem a little off,” Frank said. “Sad.”

Star forced a smile. “It wasn’t exactly a pleasure trip for me. I had to settle my aunt’s estate, remember?”

“Of course I do. Was it hard, going back?”

“Yes and no.” Star rifled through a stack of papers on her desk. “When do you leave for Alaska?”

“Sunday morning.”

She nodded. “What’s next for me?”

“Finish up
Bigger, Bolder, Brighter
, then it’s on to a tree house. Up north. Canada.”

“A tree house?” Star echoed, intrigued. “Canada? Anywhere near Vancouver?” She thought of her mom and John. Maybe she could visit if they were near the shoot.

“A little more north than that. The tree house is rough. Bare bones. We are going to turn it into something spectacular. You leave two weeks from today.”

“Sounds interesting,” she said, still thinking about her mom, wondering if she could at least take a side trip through Vancouver.

Frank tossed a file on her desk. “Read up on it. You’ll be working with Carrie Shaw on this one.”

Carrie Shaw was a favorite designer of Star’s. Carrie loved architecture as much as Star did. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Stop by my office after you’ve had a chance to catch up and we can chat more about the tree house.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Frank.”

Star spent the morning sifting through her mail and organizing her desk. Before lunch she downloaded the rest of the pictures from her camera into a file marked Alaska Men.

She clicked through the images, starting with the Fairbanks house, then the Anchorage house, and finally the Seward house. There were three hundred photos of Evan’s place.

Frank walked by, poking his head into her office. “Lunch?”

“I’d love some.” Star was about to click out of the folder when Frank said, “Are those the Alaska houses?”

“Yes.”

“Let me have a peek.”

“I’ve already sent you most of these,” Star said, clicking through the images. “Here’s Evan’s house, see?”

Star clicked. Cade’s house filled the screen.

Frank leaned closer. “Wait, what’s this?”

“The O’Brien place,” Star told him. “They own the land my aunt’s trailer sat on.” Star’s heart lurched at the thought of Patsy’s place no longer sitting on that land.

“More. I want to see more,” Frank said, his face lighting up. “This house is fabulous.”

“It’s a great old Victorian,” Star told him, catching his enthusiasm. She’d taken a lot of photos of the house, both exterior and interior.

“Who’s that?” Frank asked when a picture of Cade filled the screen.

“Cade O’Brien. He owns the house.” A wave of longing hit her full force. Her fingers tightened on the mouse. Was she going to cry? No way.

Star clicked past Cade, neatly erasing him from her mind. She kept clicking. Photos of Emma, Finn, and Brad flashed past. Brandi and Will. More Cade. Destiny, John, Ernie. She didn’t want to see any of them.

“You took a lot of pictures of those people,” Frank commented.

“Too many.” Star exited out of the file. She needed air. “Let’s have lunch.”

“It’s a great house, Star.” Frank’s forehead creased. “But something tells me it’s not the house you love, but the people who live in it.”

“Don’t read so much into a bunch of photos, Frank.” She stood. “Come on. I’m starving.”

Frank didn’t argue with her, and Star was glad. Because deep down, she knew he was right.

* * *

A little after six p.m. Star left her office and started for home. She’d been home a week now, but today had been the worst. Just knowing that Frank and the rest of the crew had arrived in Seward yesterday had left her with an upset stomach and an exhaustion she hadn’t been able to shake the past few days. She craved sleep, needed sleep, making her think her period was due. She often experienced a heavy sleep pattern right before her time of the month. And while this made her happy, she was also distracted, wondering about Evan, the project, and Cade.

Cade had called her, but she hadn’t picked up his calls. She wasn’t strong enough to hear his voice. What good would it do to foster the connection between them? They had no future.

Star made her way from the car to her condo. Several packages were propped against the front door. The paintings. Her heartbeat picked up. Star opened the door and lugged the four boxes inside. Did she want to open them? She stared at the brown packages so long her eyes went dry. In the end, she couldn’t unwrap them. Her fragile psyche kept her from taking the trip down memory lane.

Depressed, Star inhaled, taking in the new smells, needing the scents of her modern condo like an addict needed a drug. These were the smells she loved, new carpet, fresh paint, shiny hardwood. She kicked off her heels and went upstairs to her bedroom.

Star sat on the edge of the bed, then fell backward onto the softness of her new, white duvet cover. Pure heaven. She was home. Home. She willed her mind to go blank and simply absorbed the quiet. No birds singing. No rain hitting the aluminum roof of the double–wide. No kids pestering her. This was the life. The one she wanted.

Her pity party over, Star decided she should probably eat, even though she wasn’t really hungry. She got up and slid her aching feet into comfortable slippers. In the kitchen, she opened the freezer and selected a frozen dinner, popping it in the microwave. She’d gained five pounds in Alaska. Her pants were tight. Since returning home, she’d made it a priority to take the weight off.

Ding.

She took the dinner from the microwave, grabbed a fork, and made her way to the couch. Star turned on the TV and took a bite of chicken in orange sauce. She caught the end of a rival design show. The chicken tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Fake food. Not real food like she’d had at Cade’s. What she wouldn’t give for some homemade chicken potpie!

Star tossed her fork on top of the uneaten dinner. She picked up the remote control cruising through the channels, stopping when a promo for
Update This!
Alaska Men came on.

There they were, her three Alaska guys. Several shots of Alaska followed. The beauty of the land caught her off guard. Maybe she was a hometown girl. She missed the place. Suddenly, busy, overcrowded Seattle didn’t seem so great.

Star quickly switched off the TV. Time for her to cowboy–up. She didn’t need any of it, not the space, not the air, and certainly not the man.

The ring of the phone startled her. Star pressed the talk button.

“Hello?”

“Star, it’s Frank.”

“Hey, Frank,” she said, sitting back down on the couch. “How’s it going?”

“Not well,” Frank barked into the phone. “I need you up here, now.”

“Me?” Star asked, startled by the command. “Why?”

“It’s Vivienne. Did you know she was sleeping with our Seward guy?” Frank didn’t give her time to answer. “Well, she was. Not only that. She broke up with him. He’s gone, took off in that plane of his for parts unknown. Meanwhile, I’ve got a crew up here, costing me thousands every day and no house to update.”

“What?” Star struggled to let the news sink in. “What does Vivienne have to say?”

“Nothing. Not a damned thing. She’s missing. She’s fired. I’ve put up with her French crap long enough.”

“Frank, come on,” Star said, trying to placate him. “Think. Can the shoot be put off?”

“No. We’re here. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Star said.

“That house. The Victorian. I want to use it and I need you to make it happen.”

“Cade would never go for it, Frank.”

“Are you listening to me, Star?” Frank bellowed. “I’ve already asked him.”

Disbelief raced through her, along with a million questions. “What? How? How did you find him?”

“Easy,” Frank said. “I just described the house and people gave me directions. This O’Brien fella said okay with one condition, that you’re involved. He trusts you, Star.”

“No, Frank,” Star said, searching her mind for possible excuses. She didn’t want to see Cade. Not yet. She was still trying to get over him. “I can’t. I have too much work to do here. Plus, renovation takes weeks of pre–production. We don’t have the time.”

“You’re a pro,” Frank said. “You can piece things together quickly. You know the area, the businesses. Hotel and catering are done. Dump the rest of your work on Suzy. Vivienne is out. Carrie Shaw is in. I’ve booked a nine a.m. flight for you both. Filming will be delayed until Wednesday to get you both up to speed. Get Carrie all the photos you have of the kitchen. I don’t care if the two of you have to stay up all night, but when you get here tomorrow, I want a design done. You can help Carrie. You know the family, know their tastes.”

“Frank that kind of design takes time,” Star protested.

“This could mean a promotion for you, Star. Flight. Nine a.m. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Frank,” Star said, her mind stuck on the word
promotion
. “I’ll call Carrie right now.”

“I knew I could count on you, Star.”

The line went dead.

Holy smoke. A possible promotion. She was going back to Alaska. Her stomach did a funny jump. Cade had asked for her, the rat. She was going to see him. The kids. Trudy, Ron, and Daniel. Brandi, Bud, and Will.

But to what end? More heartache when she had to leave them for the second time?

Star glanced over at the picture on her fridge—the one Emma had drawn of her, Cade, and the kids. She got up. At the fridge, she flipped the drawing over, pinning it back on with the magnet. The blank page stared back at her. Clean and neat, just like her life.

Satisfied, she picked up the phone and punched in Carrie’s number.

* * *

Star stared out the window of the rented SUV watching the rain run in rivulets down the glass. She glanced over at their driver, Bill. He’d picked them up from the airport, and he didn’t look any happier about the crummy weather than she did. Traffic had been terrible due to a rollover accident just outside of Anchorage. The delay had added an extra hour to their drive.