Love Me Sweet (A Bell Harbor Novel) (19 page)

All of a sudden, the oxygen felt a little thin in here. She stared down at the keys and started playing “Ode to Joy” just as a distraction. “Um, thank you, I guess?”

He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m not hitting on you. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You got that gorgeous face, and a rockin’ body. I can think of at least twenty-three things that I’d want to do to you.” He looked her up and down so blatantly she could only laugh, and yet, she already knew this was leading to no place she wanted to be.

“So, yeah,” he continued, “I’d have remembered you for sure if we’d gone horizontal, which is why I found myself so perplexed when you got on the bus. Now I’ve finally figured it out.”

A sensation of imminent doom made her fingers stumble and hit a wrong note. Dun-dun-dunnnn.

Reggie’s voice sank so low it was nearly coming from his chest, and he leaned so close she could smell his honky-tonk cologne.

“I know who you are.”

He said it so quietly she might have imagined it, but one look at his expression and she knew she’d heard him correctly. Still, she tried to deflect him. “I’m nobody special. Just Elaine.”

His eyes narrowed, that black-coffee stare nearly knocking her from the piano bench, but still he whispered. “You’re Delaney Masterson. You’re Jesse Masterson’s runaway daughter.”

At least he’d called her a runaway instead of a video star. She glanced toward Grant and saw him watching, scrutinizing. Her smile back at him was half-assed. She couldn’t fake this one. She looked at Reggie again to see where he intended to take this.

“Who else knows?” She began playing an Elvis song, or maybe it was Huey Lewis, or the Stones. Her brain wasn’t quite paying attention. Her fingers just moved from stress and habit. And “Ode to Joy” was just too damned ironic at the moment.

“Nobody knows, I don’t think. If they do, they haven’t said anything to me, but why the cloak-and-dagger? Why the alias?”

“Haven’t you seen the headlines? I’m in hiding from the press.”

“Well that much is obvious, but why are you hiding from the press? Who does that?”

Reggie was new at this, the whole fame game, and he was a man, so maybe he couldn’t understand the downside of notoriety.

“I’m hiding because my name is a punch line right now. I figured if I disappeared for a bit, the frenzy would die down, but I didn’t expect to leave my car behind for the police to find.”

Reggie nodded but still looked confused. “That’s where we came in, right?”

“Yes.” Her fingers continued to play but she hardly heard the notes.

Reggie scratched his head, making his wavy hair sway. “So I have to be honest here, sugar. I don’t pay much attention to celebrity news, unless it’s about me. In that case I’m fascinated, but you have some sort of reality show, right? So why was the press hounding you in the first place?”

She looked up at him. Was it possible—?

“Oh, wait . . .” he interrupted her brief speck of hope. “Was there a naughty bit of video?”

So much for that.

“Yep.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess maybe I did hear something about that. Weren’t you giving—”

“Yep.” She glanced over at Grant but Sissy had him distracted again.

Delaney lowered her voice and looked up at Reggie. “But I didn’t know about the camera. That’s the kind of stand-up guy my old boyfriend was. Not only did he film us without telling me, but then he sold it to the tabloids.”

“What a douche bag!” Reggie exclaimed, then scowled and lowered his voice. “Worse than a douche bag. That guy is an ass-sucking douche bag. Can’t you go after him? I mean, legally. Or otherwise? I think Sammy might know some guys who could do a little damage to his kneecaps.”

Delaney had been giving that some thought. The legal aspect, not the physical injury aspect, although Melody’s offer to kick Boyd Hampton in the nuts was still very much on the table. “I may. I’m trying to sort out my options right now, but I got a little waylaid by this storm, and the fact that Grant’s mother sto—accidentally took my phone. She has my wallet and some other things too. It’s all just been one clusterfuck after the other ever since that video surfaced.”

“I’m sorry, honeybun. What does Captain America think of all this? He must want to fillet that SOB. I sure would.”

Delaney reached out and clutched Reggie’s wrist where it rested on the top of the piano. It was reflex, but she quickly pulled her hand back before Grant noticed. She leaned forward. “Reggie, Grant doesn’t know anything about . . . about anything. He doesn’t even know who I am.”

God, that sounded so awful when she said it out loud. She sounded like a horrible person. Oh, God. Was she a horrible person? How had that happened? Shit. She really should have told him by now.

Reggie’s dark eyes went round for a second, then a sassy smile took over his face. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me your boyfriend doesn’t know you’re Delaney Masterson? He doesn’t know your daddy is Jesse Masterson? And isn’t your momma somebody famous too? Victoria Secret or somebody like that?”

Breathe, Delaney. Just breathe.

“My mother was a model but now she makes soap. And Grant is not my boyfriend. We’re just sort of . . . well, traveling companions.”

“Traveling companions?” Reggie’s voice was flat disbelief wrapped around a stick of
get-the-fuck-outta-here
.

“Yes, traveling companions. Technically, he’s my landlord, but that’s another whole story.”

Laughter overtook Reggie and he collapsed over the top of the piano. Delaney’s misfortune was apparently of little consequence. Maybe she should be offended. Or maybe she should just laugh along with him. Really, it was either one or the other.

Reggie lifted his head. “He’s your landlord? Wow, I need to get me some rental properties right quick and find myself a honey like you,” he said between his chuffs of laughter.

Delaney shook her head and sighed. “There you go being all charming again.”

“Well, I’m a charming kind of guy, but sugar, if you think that dude is
just
your landlord, I will French kiss a baboon’s bright red ass because, let me tell you, that is a man in love.” He said the word
love
as if it had a dozen syllables, and Delaney flushed with both denial and hope.

She glanced Grant’s way. Sissy was still trying to engage him but now he seemed to be paying more attention to what was going on up on the stage. Delaney began playing another song, something from Coldplay, or maybe Maroon 5. Honestly, her brain wasn’t registering it. It was just all in her fingers.

She shook her head at Reggie. “He’s not in love. He can’t be. We hardly know each other. There hasn’t been enough time to fall in love.”

Reggie set his chin on one fisted hand, elbows on the piano. “Not enough time? How much time you think it takes, sugar? I can fall in love in fifteen minutes. Ten if I’m between sets.”

Delaney chuckled. “That’s not love, Reggie. That’s hardly even lust.”

His smile was broad as he tipped his head in agreement. “All right. You might have me on that, but trust me, sometimes a minute is all it takes if it’s the right one, and that guy is not kidding around with you. I’ve seen that look in a man’s eye before.”

She started playing “Love Me Tender,” as if her fingers wanted to help convince her brain that Reggie might be speaking some truth.

“What look?” she asked him.

“The one that says he’s about ready to come over here and kick my ass. He doesn’t like me. He thinks I’ve been flirting with you for the past three days.”

“Haven’t you been?”

“Hells, yeah, but that’s just me. I mean, I
could
fall in love with you, if you wanted me to, but it seems like you got enough going on right now. Plus I’d rather your fella didn’t go all King Kong on me and start ripping off my appendages, starting with my Little Reggie.”

Delaney might have laughed again, but her nerves were frayed. “I think you’re exaggerating, and I think you’re misreading this whole situation, but either way, please don’t tell anyone. I’m going to explain all this to him soon, very soon. Either tonight or tomorrow, but right now I have nothing but the clothes on my back and no way to get home. I have to get my wallet and stuff back. It’s complicated, but keep this secret for me and I’ll owe you. I promise. I’ll even introduce you to my dad if you want.”

Reggie scoffed at her. “Hey, I’d love to meet your dad, yeah? But you don’t have to worry about me keeping your dirty little secrets. I might not come across as a very reputable guy, but in spite of my voracious appetite for frisky women, I’m actually a pretty decent human being. You can trust me.”

Her stomach felt like a cement mixer. “Yeah, well, no offense, but the last guy who said
you can
trust me
ended up getting me on film.”

“Douche bag,” Reggie said shaking his head, then he stood up and leaned away from the piano.

Delaney spotted Grant from the corner of her eye coming their way.

“Well, shucks,” Reggie said, chuckling. “Looks like I’ve exceeded my time limit, yeah? Here comes your landlord to open up a can of whup-ass, but he won’t get any details out of me. I promise. Secret to the grave, honeybun.” He kissed his fingertips and held them out in a vow.

A few more strides and Grant stepped up on the stage. He sat down on the piano bench next to Delaney. “You two look like you’re plotting something.” His smile was for her alone, but Reggie spoke up first.

“Just talking about monkey butts and movies we didn’t like, yeah?”

Grant’s gaze was still on Delaney. “Yeah?” he said.

“Yeah,” Delaney answered. “Reggie here is partial to kissing baboons.”

Grant smirked. “Well, I don’t know what any baboon might have done to deserve that, but if it keeps Reggie busy, I’m all for it.”

Reggie’s laugh was good-natured and Delaney started to relax once more. He’d keep her secret. There was no advantage in him telling anyone, and the offer of introducing the band to her dad had been genuine. That was a free spin in Reggie’s pocket and he was smart enough to keep it.

“Monkey business is just monkey business,” Reggie said. “But your lady here isn’t interested. Guess she’s not the girl I thought she was.”

Delaney shot him a look, but he winked at her and jumped off the stage. “Nope. Oh, and by the way, Clark landed us another free room, so you two will just have to make due in the Burning Love Suite without me and Finch.”

Now Grant looked over at Reggie. “Really?”

“Finch already moved our duds to the other room. You’re welcome.” He bowed, then turned and walked away.

“Is he serious?” Grant’s gaze was optimistic.

“I guess so. That’s the first I’ve heard of it, though.”

“Maybe we should go up there and check.” He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it and her heart went all fluttery again. It had been doing that all day. Maybe she should see a cardiologist. This could not be healthy. Neither was keeping secrets. If they went upstairs, she’d really have no choice but to tell him. He deserved the whole truth but the thought of giving up what they currently had was enough to make her cry, so she leaned over and kissed him, just to capture another moment.

She heard Reggie’s voice from across the room. “Damn it to hell, I have got to get me some rental property.”

Delaney giggled into the kiss, and Grant leaned back.

“Is he serious?” he asked.

“Is he ever?”

Grant looked ready to answer, but before he had the chance, his phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked back at her, eyes intense.

“It’s my mom.”

Chapter 19

“HELLO?” GRANT CLEARED HIS THROAT.

“Grant? Oh, thank heavens. I’m so glad to get ahold of you.” The voice was breathless and a little frantic, but it wasn’t his mother.

“Aunt Tina?” he said. Stress jolted through all his joints, and he sat up straighter on the piano bench.

“Yes, it’s me. I think we need to talk.”

“Where are you?” Grant asked. “Is my mom with you?” He could hear noises from the other side of the call, like someone blubbering into a pillow.

“Yes, she is,” Tina said, “but something is wrong. She just listened to your phone messages, and now she’s hysterical and won’t tell me what’s going on. She’s just crying and crying and told me I should call you and tell you she’s sorry.”

She was sorry? For all this trouble? Sorry was so not going to cut it. “Put her on the phone, would you please?” His voice was terse, but he added the
please
because there was no sense getting testy with his aunt. It was quite possible she didn’t have any idea what was going on. Even if she did, he needed her cooperation.

Elaine looked over at him, concern etched all over her face. And no wonder. She was about to find out if her life savings was gone. The color had all but drained from her complexion.

Tina’s voice cut in. “She can’t talk to you right now. She’s too distraught. She just keeps saying ‘tell him I still have it.
’ 
”

Breath was a sharp stab in his chest. “She still has it? All of it? Every penny?”

He could hear his mother’s muffled voice in the background. It tugged at his heart for about a tenth of a second before he remembered that she’d stolen forty thousand dollars from Elaine, and his mother was not the victim here.

“Donna,” Tina said, “he wants to know if you have all of it.” There was some more blubbering, then Tina was back. “She said she has nearly all of it. What is going on here, Grant? What does she have?”

“Where are you guys?” he asked instead. “Have you gotten home to Memphis yet?”

“
No, we’re in Effingham. The roads were bad so we decided to stop at a hotel for a few days. We’ve been having a lovely time too. Then this morning at breakfast your mother finally decided to turn o
n her phone and the next thing I knew she was having a nervous breakdown at the Bob Evans. Now we’re sitting in the parking lot and she won’t tell me what’s going on. So you tell me. What’s going on?”

Grant put his head down, a fist against his forehead. Naturally his mother would make a scene inside a restaurant instead of falling apart someplace discreet. She’d probably stolen all the mints from next to the cash register on the way out too.

“I really need to talk to her, Tina. Tell her . . .” he took a deep breath. “Tell her I’m not mad, I just need to ask her some questions.” That was a big Effingham lie. He was as furious as hell, but if his mother was sincere, if she really did still have
nearly all
of Elaine’s money, he didn’t want to make the situation worse by adding to her panic. Although, when his mother said
nearly all
, she could mean
next to none
. There was just no hope of getting the honest truth from her until they were physically together and he had that bag in his hand. Right now he was mainly a hostage negotiator.

He waited, clenching his jaw. He wanted to look over at Elaine, to reassure her that everything would be fine, but he didn’t dare because he didn’t want her seeing the doubt on his face. He stared down at the piano keys instead while she sat next to him, motionless. He could hear his aunt trying to cajole his mother to take the phone—his dear, batshit crazy mother, the catalyst of all this.

Lord knew she never should have taken that money, but then again, if she hadn’t, he wouldn’t be with Elaine right now. Shit. If Donna had never rented out his house in the first place, he and Elaine might never have met at all. Crazy how the world worked sometimes.

His dad had always said, “Son, things happen for a reason,” but then his dad had gone and gotten himself killed in Iraq. There was sure no good reason for that, so Grant had decided his father was wrong. Now here he was left wondering again, about fate and destiny and coincidence while he waited for his batshit crazy mother to come to the goddamn phone.

He had every right to be mad at her, but if there
was
a grander scheme to life, then maybe, just maybe, his mother had done him a favor.

Elaine reached over and squeezed his wrist. “Grant, there’s something I need to tell—”

“Grant?” His mother’s voice cut in, her voice warbling like her throat was full of marbles.

He sighed. “Hi, Mom.”

Donna started crying all over again, and he finally looked over at Elaine. She looked positively stricken. She needed that money. The fear was plain on her face. He’d get it back to her. If he had to sell his house or call up Blake fucking Rockstone and get his old job back, he’d get Elaine her money.

“What did you do, Mom? How much did you spend?”

His mother snuffled in a big gulp of air. “About four hundred dollars.”

The Mack truck that had parked on his chest backed up. “Four hundred dollars?” That was nothing! Sure, it didn’t take care of the six grand they owed Elaine for rent, but they could certainly work that out. He held the phone away from his mouth and turned to Elaine. “Four hundred dollars. That’s all she spent,” he whispered.

Elaine didn’t look that relieved. Her smile was of the
I-just-swallowed-bad-medicine-but-I-know-it’s-good-for-me
variety. Maybe she thought his mother was lying. That was certainly within the realm of possibility. The sooner they could see Donna in person, the better off he’d feel, and the more he could assure Elaine this would all work out.

He brought the phone back to his ear. “You know you did a terrible thing, right, Mom? Elaine did you a huge favor by not calling the police.”

Elaine shook her head at him, frowning.

Donna warbled again. “I know. I just . . . I saw that backpack and I really liked it, and Tina and I were going on a girl’s trip and I thought how nice that bag would go with my brown coat. Then I saw the money inside and I just couldn’t stop myself. Please tell Elaine that I’m sorry and I will give it all back.”

His mother was reckless, and impulsive, and she had more than a splash of kleptomania, but he couldn’t fix it over the phone. This was something he’d have to deal with once they were all back in Bell Harbor. “You will give it back, and we’re going to get you some help so that you don’t do this kind of thing anymore. In the meantime, we need to figure out where we can meet because you’ve also got Elaine’s phone and some other stuff that she needs inside that bag. Tina says you’re in Effingham. How far is that from Memphis? That’s where we are.”

“You’re in Memphis?” His mother’s voice squeaked. “You and who?”

“Me and Elaine. We’re here waiting for you and we need that bag back.”

“They’re in Memphis,” he heard Donna say, undoubtedly talking to his aunt. The phone was clumsily passed once more and Tina’s voice came through.

“Grant? We should be in Memphis tonight, but not until late. It’s about a five-hour drive but we’ll have to stop for gas and to eat again. If the roads are still bad, it may take a bit longer. Can you come to my place in the morning?”

“Yes. Sure. Of course, but meanwhile, Tina, lock that bag in the trunk, OK? Don’t let my mother anywhere near it.”

Delaney Masterson had received a stay of execution. Or more accurately, Elaine Masters had. She could hear both sides of the conversation from her spot next to Grant on the piano seat. His mother was loud, loud and clearly distraught. Delaney should probably be furious with her for causing a shitload of misery and worry! But mostly, at the moment, all Delaney felt was relieved. She’d be getting her money and phone and wallet back tomorrow morning. But even better than that, Donna had referred to her as Elaine. She hadn’t mentioned the name Delaney at all. Was it possible she’d never found the wallet? True, it was stuffed down near the bottom of the bag, underneath the money, but Donna wasn’t a very good thief if she hadn’t even searched through her loot. But then again, Donna Beckett didn’t strike Delaney as very bright.

Then again,
again
, who was
she
to accuse someone of being not bright?

Who was the one hiding in plain sight under an alias?

Who was the one running from a sex-video scandal?

Who was the one falling in love with a man who didn’t even know her real name?

That would be Delaney.

If anyone was stupid in this whole mess, it was her. And she needed to fix it. Her euphoria swung back in the other direction, toward anxiety. She just didn’t know how to feel. Maybe it was this weather, this bi-polar vortex.

“Tomorrow morning,” Grant said, smiling wide. “We’ll get all your stuff back tomorrow morning.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “That’s good news, right?”

She nodded. “Right.”

“OK, then why don’t you seem happy about it?”

She looked at him, feeling very much like the world was crumbling in all around them because there was one more issue neither one of them had really addressed. “Well, for one thing, once I have my stuff back, I have to go home.”

He touched her cheek and smiled. “Just for a little while, though, right? This isn’t it. We’ll figure something out.”

Her heart swelled with hope, but Grant had no idea what he was talking about. How could he? He was talking to a girl who didn’t exist, so she needed to tell him. Right now.

“Grant—”

“Y’all want to go on over to Graceland with us?” Sissy’s voice cut through Delaney’s thoughts like a scythe. “The boys don’t have to start playing for another couple of hours, so if you two can keep your hands off each other for a spell, we can go see where the King slept, then go get some ribs at Marlowe’s before tonight’s show. Interested?”

Delaney could not hold back a smile. Another reprieve. She couldn’t possibly tell him at Graceland. And she couldn’t tell him at a restaurant either. She’d just have to tell him later tonight. Or . . . tomorrow. Tomorrow would work.