One Night with a Star (Second Chances Book 2) (13 page)

The house that Jenny had lined up to show Simon was not that far away from Sand Dollar Point. It stood along the rocky end of Summerbury, south of Sand Dollar Point and away from the sandy beach and the pier. Restless after the confrontation at Twin Pines and the odd text conversation with Jenny, Simon decided to walk down to good old 194.

He had no idea what was going on, either with Jenny or with Second Chances. Yvonne still hadn’t called him back. Ben’s tiny sliver of information wasn’t enough. The confrontation at Twin Pines only made him nervous. And what the hell was Jenny doing taking Neil the Turd out to lunch anyhow? He was convinced the two of them were over. More than over. The way Jenny had kissed him and touched him and more or less driven him to entirely new levels of desire on Saturday afternoon had been proof of that. God, they had wanted each other so much and gone after what they wanted like it was their job. And now lunch with Neil?

The fact that she’d called him an asshole in her text was a tiny consolation. Something was up. Something that, no doubt, was connected to the fact that asshole Neil was on the Twin Pines board. He hadn’t known. Jenny had. He couldn’t decide if he should be angry with her or if that little fact really had slipped her mind. The whole thing was a mess. Where was Yvonne? Why wasn’t Spencer back from his honeymoon yet? Someone had to do something to get Second Chances back on track, healthy and filming at Twin Pines. His whole life depended on it.

His first glimpse of the house Jenny was going to show him brought a surprise rush of calm over him. He’d been expecting a tidy little New England style beach house, like the rest of the houses along that stretch of Beach Ave. His potential house was set up the slightest of hills on the non-beach side of the road. It was an older house, somewhat similar to Sand Dollar Point, but not as froufrou and Victorian. The side that faced the ocean was solid and sturdy, with a porch that wrapped around the front and a few large windows, the kind you only found on older houses. It had weathered, brown shingles on the sides that looked like they had been through their fair share of storms. Kind of like him.

A car was parked in the driveway, in front of a fair-sized garage that looked like it might have an apartment or an office above it. It wasn’t Jenny’s car, though. Simon walked past and up a long set of porch stairs that passed by a quaint rock garden. He was still admiring the garden when he got to the top of the stairs and the side door opened.

“Oh!” An older woman, maybe 60s, flinched when she saw him. She did a double-take and hummed a much longer, “Ohh. I recognize you. You’re Simon Mercer.”

“I am,” Simon smiled. “And I’m so sorry to disturb you. I was told to meet my realtor here at three, but it looks like I’m early.”

The woman’s eyes lit even more. “You’re the one who’s coming to look at the house?”

“Yep.” Simon nodded.

She gasped and plunked a hand on her chest. “John, John, Simon Mercer is the person coming to look at the house,” she called over her shoulder.

“Simon Mercer? The actor?” A weathered old guy who looked as cool as a classic film star showed up in the doorway behind the woman. He smiled at Simon in welcome. “Well I’ll be. Come in, come in.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Simon said.

“Not at all,” John said. “Would you like some coffee? Margaret can put some on for you if you’d like.”

“Cream and sugar?” Margaret asked.

Before Simon could protest, he was whisked inside of the house, given a comprehensive tour, and plied with coffee as John and Margaret told him the story of how they’d bought the house when they’d first been married, how they’d raised five children there, and how they were moving to Arizona to live with one of their kids and their grandkids, because Maine winters were just too harsh for their old bones. Every ounce of the worry and irritation that Simon had felt over Neil and Second Chances and the problems of his life eased away. It was uncanny. He didn’t know if it was the house itself or the love that John and Margaret had for each other, their family, and life in general.

By the time Jenny arrived at three on the dot, Simon had already made up his mind.

“I’m so sorry to intrude on you,” Jenny apologized to John and Margaret as Margaret handed her a cup of coffee.

“Not at all,” Margaret said. “We’ve had the loveliest conversation.”

“We’ll get out of your hair now,” John said with a wink. “I promised to take my lovely lady shopping.”

“Buy her diamonds.” Simon answered John’s wink with one of his own.

“You can just put the mugs in the sink when you’re done,” Margaret said as they headed out the door. “I’ll clean up when we get home.”

The door shut, their car started, and Jenny turned to Simon as they stood in the bright and airy living room.

“I’m sorry,” she said, anxiety draining the color from her face.

“I want this house,” Simon replied.

Jenny blinked. Her shoulders dropped. “What, like that?”

“Yep.”

“But I haven’t taken you through.”

“John and Margaret did that,” Simon explained. “They told me everything about this place, how they raised their kids here. This house is perfect, Jenny. Daniel will love it.”

Jenny’s expression grew more and more lost, deeper and deeper emotion filling her eyes as he went on. “But I haven’t even told you how much they’re asking.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Simon said, coming closer to her. “I’ll pay it.”

He reached out for her, but she retreated, more distressed by the second.

“But what if the show falls through? What if Twin Pines backs out?” Her mouth twitched and her eyes squeezed with the tell-tale signs of impending tears.

Simon wasn’t going to have it. Nothing was going to make Jenny cry ever again if he had anything to do about it.

“I won’t let it happen,” he said. “I’m reasonably certain the production company won’t let it happen either. They’ve already filmed one season there without issues. They won’t let a hiccup like this hold up season two.”

“But Neil is not a hiccup,” Jenny insisted. “He’s more like a giant, raging fart.” In spite of her distress, she burst into a laugh.

Simon laughed with her, but only until Jenny’s hysterics took a sharp turn. She started breathing heavily.

“This is all my fault,” she said, pacing the living room’s worn carpet. “I should have let Neil down a lot easier. I should have waited to say anything until filming was underway. I should have figured out the connection in the first place.”

“Do you really think that staying with Neil is going to make things better?” Simon asked. He knew what he would answer to the same question.

Jenny shook her head at the doubt she must have seen in his expression. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of Quebec. Dating me has been the ultimate way to gloat for the way he was treated in school.” She stopped and gasped, clutching a hand to her stomach. “God, why didn’t I see that before? How big of a dope am I?”

As much as Simon wanted to strangle Neil in his sleep right then, Jenny was his first concern. “You said he came along and was nice to you at a time when you needed it,” he said, hard though it was to make excuses for any of it.

Jenny grimaced. “I felt stupid for getting pregnant. Work was just starting to fall apart. People were talking about me.” She paused in her pacing and faced him. “Can I blame pregnancy hormones too?”

“Sure, why not.” Simon shrugged. He caught up to her and slid his arms around her. “He took advantage of you when you were down.”

She wriggled out of his embrace and pushed him away, suddenly angry. “So did you.”

Simon’s chest squeezed, and not in the good way. “I know,” he admitted. “And I regret the way I behaved last summer.”

“I’m not talking about last summer.” She frowned and crossed her arms.

A flash of anger threatened to break down Simon’s control. “Are you talking about Saturday?”

She didn’t answer. Her guilty expression was answer enough.

“No,” he said, marching up to her. “Oh no. You’re not twisting a hot, passionate, spontaneous decision into something that’s my fault. We both enjoyed ourselves. We
both
started that.”

“Well, it was a mis—”

“No, it was not a mistake,” he cut her off before she could finish.

“Simon.” He was really beginning to hate that pinched-faced, slumped-shoulders look of hers when she wanted to wriggle out of something. “I don’t want to be hurt again,” she finished.

“Fair enough.” And it was. But that was it. “I’m not going to hurt you again.”

“No?” She opened her eyes fully and turned square toward him. “And what if Second Chances gets the boot from Twin Pines? What if you end up filming in…in Tennessee or something?””

“First of all, we’ve already filmed one season, and they would have to find a location with similar terrain for continuity’s sake, so it wouldn’t be Tennessee.”

“But you could go away. After everything that is just starting to happen again, you could be yanked right out from under me, like a carpet.”

Carpeting was not the image that came to his mind at the suggestion of him being under her. The jolt of lust only heightened his deep need to prove his point.

“Yes, the worst could happen,” he said. “I could be forced to film
for a few months
, somewhere else. But I want to buy this house. I want to make this my home. Here. With Daniel. With you.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to put myself in a position where I could be hurt again,” Jenny replied, her voice small and distant.

“I promise, everything will work out.” He couldn’t stand to see her hesitate like this, to second-guess herself, let alone him. It was a gamble, but he reached for her and took her in his arms once more. “I’ve got a vested interest in making sure you are never hurt again.”

She gave him a doubtful look, but at least she didn’t try to pull away this time. “It’s not just about me. I’m responsible for Neil and his behavior, which affects the entire TV show.”

Simon shook his head, cradling her jaw with one hand. “You are not responsible for assholes. It’s not in your job description.”

A grin tweaked the corner of her lips as she glanced up at him through thick lashes. Hot lust coursed through him. Before she could issue another protest, he leaned in for a kiss, covering her mouth with his as if being close to her could make everything better. She was tense and hesitant, but slowly unfolded, like a rose blooming, and kissed him back. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she sighed with longing.

Just as quickly, she jumped back and held her arms up.

“No. No,” she said, shaking her head and not looking at him. “I’m not jumping back into this without looking first, like we did the other day. I have to make sure that nothing else is going to be screwed up by you and I getting involved.”

Simon’s thump of disappointment bounced right back up through his spine to hope. “So you’re saying you do want to get involved again?”

She made a frustrated sound, paced the carpet for a few steps, then turned to him and let her arms drop with a rush of breath. “Maybe.”

Beautiful, delicious relief washed through him. He beamed with joy in spite of the fact that Jenny was still wound tight and upset.

“I’ll take maybe for now,” he said.

“Yeah, well you’d better, because that’s all you’re getting,” she said. She sounded tough, but that was a good sign.

“Perfect. Brilliant. Superb.” Simon crossed to her and planted a quick, smacking kiss on her lips. “Now give me your spiel about this house and tell me what I need to do to make an offer.”

Chapter Twelve

“So you’re saying it is a possibility,” Simon sighed, running a hand through his hair, as he paced Sand Dollar Point’s porch. The call with Yvonne was not going the way he’d hoped it would go.

“Looks like it, sweetie,” Yvonne replied. Simon could tell she had him on speaker-phone, which wasn’t a good sign. Her voice was tired and a little hoarse, as though she’d been on the phone with far more people than him. “The company signed a filming contract with Twin Pines, but it has a loophole because of Twin Pines’ status as a nursing home. They very well could pull out of the deal.”

“But why would they?” Simon huffed. Sense tried to throw several reasonable answers to that question at him, but he wasn’t in the mood to entertain them. “Filming the first season wasn’t a problem.”

“The first season was only eight episodes with no guarantee of a longer filming schedule.”

Simon growled in frustration. He didn’t want to acknowledge that this was all about Neil and his wounded pride. It made him want to punch things to think that one man could have that much power. He wouldn’t, if Simon had anything to do about it.

“Look, honey,” Yvonne went on. “I know you have a vested interest in keeping filming right there in Maine. You and Spence both. But the production company has a crew out scouting a lovely location in upstate New York.”

“New York?” Simon barked.

“Yes, and it’s free on short notice, from what I understand. Twin Pines is the clear first choice, but the studio doesn’t want to get into any kind of protracted contract dispute. They need to start filming season two soon, and if it comes down to brass tacks, they’ll go with the easier location.”

“They can’t.” Simon stopped his pacing on the south side of the porch. He craned his neck to look down the coastline. The roof of John and Margaret’s house was barely visible against the line of trees opposite the beach. He wanted that house. He needed that house and that life.

“I know, I know,” Yvonne said, as defeated by the whole thing as he felt. “I’m not going to let this go without more of a fight. We can win this if we hang in there.”

“If anyone can win it, you can, Yvonne,” he told her, managing a faint smile.

“Aw, thanks for the vote of support, sweetie. You hang in there too,” she said. “Now you go spend some time with that cute son of yours and let Auntie Yvonne do the heavy lifting.”

Simon smiled, but he couldn’t let it go entirely. “I want to help with this, Yvonne. Anything I can do. I have to help. This is my life these people are messing with. I’m putting my foot down. Simon Mercer is through with having the winds carry him wherever they may.”

“Good for you,” Yvonne went on. “I’m proud of you.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway gave Simon an extra jolt of determination. “Talk to you later,” he told Yvonne and ended the call.

The sight of Jenny getting out of her car and striding up the path to the front porch filled Simon with excitement, even though he’d known she was coming. She was dressed for work in a smart pink suit with pumps, and her hair was slicked back in her trademark ponytail. It was a Wednesday, after all. But whether she was there on official business or not, all Simon wanted to do was run across the porch to her and sweep her into his arms.

“You made it,” he said instead, decidedly less sexy than he felt she deserved.

“Not for lack of distractions,” Jenny sighed.

The click of her heels as she climbed the stairs to the porch was enough to send blood pumping straight to places that Simon would probably be much better off ignoring while business was on the table, but he couldn’t help it. His mind wanted to conjure up images of Jenny on the table wearing nothing but those hot pink, three inch pumps.

“Ivy and Laurel, two of my coworkers, keep prying me for information about you,” Jenny went on, either oblivious to the growing bulge in Simon’s shorts or ignoring it. “I haven’t told them you’re my client, so they feel it’s their duty to pester me until I confess.”

“Coworkers, eh?” Simon smiled, following her into the house.

Jenny knew where she was going, taking the first right into the dining room. She tossed her bag on the table and sent Simon a frown.

“I don’t know if your big name costars could compete with the everyday, average, nosy cube-mate,” she said. “This business is supposed to be confidential anyhow, but oh no. Don’t tell that to Ivy. I swear, when I’m in that office, I don’t get a moment’s peace where all of my Hollywood friends are concerned.”

“What about your boss?” Simon asked, sitting across the corner of the table from her as she sank into a chair.

Jenny laughed without humor. “Carol is still on the verge of firing me, and I can’t help but think that working with you is only driving a nail in that coffin. She calls it a distraction. It doesn’t help that I don’t have any other clients besides you. Still.”

Her shoulders sagged as she reached for the documents in her bag and pointed to where Simon should sign to make an offer on the house down the road. Simon dashed off his signature on several pages, but his attention was all on Jenny. It physically hurt to see her slumped in defeat.

“Why don’t you quit and get a new job?” he asked.

She let out a sharp laugh. “In this economy? With Daniel taking up so much of my time?”

“Why not? You’re not happy where you are.”

“You can say that again,” she mumbled.

That was it. Simon reached across the table, stilling her hand as she signed the parts of the documents that she needed to sign.

“Love, if you’re not happy, make changes.”

She glanced up at him, attempting sarcasm but achieving only misery.

“I hate seeing you unhappy like this. Do something. Quit your job. Hell, bring Daniel and move in with me at this new house.”

Her eyes flickered down. She swallowed, bit her lip. Simon’s heart sped up. That was the look of a woman who was actually considering it. He held his breath, waiting for her to say something.

“I don’t even know why you’re making an offer on this house.” She pulled away from him, rolling her shoulders, and gathering the papers to tap them into a neat stack.

Just like that, she backed away from whatever cliff she’d been on the edge of. Simon clenched his teeth in frustration.

“I’m buying it so I can be close to you and Daniel,” he reminded her.

“How’s that going to work out when the show gets moved?”

“It won’t,” he assured her.

She shook her head, looking more miserable than ever. “I had a text from Tasha this morning.”

“What’s she doing texting you on her honeymoon?” He did his best to make light of things.

Jenny wasn’t buying it. “Spence got a call from Yvonne. They’re looking for another place to film.” She shoved the papers into her bag with more force than necessary. “So if you want to change your mind about putting in this offer, let me know.”

“I’m not going to change my mind,” he insisted, standing when Jenny stood. “I talked to Yvonne just before you got here. Yes, the production company is scouting other locations, but Twin Pines is their first choice.”

“Maybe,” she sighed, “If I haven’t screwed things up beyond fixing.”

“Stop it.”

Jenny flinched. He shouldn’t have sounded so frustrated, but he couldn’t help it.

“You didn’t do anything. This is not your fault.”

“But Neil—”

“I don’t want to hear another word about Neil,” he said. Never had he meant something more in his life. “I don’t want to hear about him interfering with Second Chances, and I really don’t want to see him crush the life out of you. Don’t let him.”

“I’m not letting him crush anything,” Jenny protested, “but you have to admit—”

“No, I don’t.”

He surged into her, wrapping her in his arms and claiming her lips in a kiss designed to silence every last doubt she could possibly have.

Jenny’s thoughts scattered as Simon swept her up and into a kiss that was worthy of a movie climax. She dropped her bag. What had gotten into Simon to make him so passionate, so intense?

She didn’t want or need an answer. All she wanted was that kiss. With a soft groan, she closed her arms around Simon’s warm, hard torso and kissed him back. Nothing else seemed to matter when they were wrapped up in each other like this. She opened herself to him, loving the familiar taste of him, the rhythm of his tongue teasing hers and his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. Her heart screamed at her to ignore everything else, to live for this, to put her trust in this.

“I can’t,” she whispered, sounding far weaker than she wanted to.

“Yes you can,” Simon insisted. Hard, demanding.

God, she loved that. How could she possibly love it when a man dominated her like that?

Because it was Simon. The answer came to her as her heart broke open and melted in her chest. Because he loved her and wanted the best for her. That wasn’t domination, that was helping her to see the truth.

“What is it?” he asked, his question breathed against her lips.

She dug her fingertips into his back, venting her frustration with herself and the world by stealing another, deep, potent kiss from him. She didn’t want to think, she wanted to let her body take the lead. Simon responded to her kiss by sliding his hand down to her backside and pressing her hips into his. She hummed at the solid heat of his erection against her abdomen. Sex was so much simpler than life and love and relationships.

Giving in to the need, she ground her hips against Simon’s, gliding a hand up to spread her fingers in his hair. She kissed him brazenly, willing him to understand that this was more than just an invitation for him to keep going, to push until they were both satisfied. This was a declaration.

“Jenny,” he whispered between kisses. “I need you.”

She echoed his words with a cry of acceptance, lifting one leg over his hip to bring the part of her that ached for him into closer contact with him. It was no easy feat in a tight pencil skirt. He caught her leg, hiking her skirt up to the top of her thigh. She hummed in victory as his fingers inched toward the center of her heat.

“Make love to me, Simon,” she demanded. “I want to forget about everything else.”

He flinched back. Their hips were still plastered together, but he leaned away from her enough to search her eyes, the barest frown knitting his brow. His lips were kiss-reddened, and his breath came in tight, shallow gasps.

“I could make love to you all day,” he panted, “and I will, but forgetting isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Yes it will,” she insisted, tugging his head back to kiss him with enough desire to wipe every thought from his mind.

He gave in, moaning against her onslaught, and lifted her into his arms. Jenny could feel the urgency rippling through him as he turned and carried her out of the dining room and up the stairs. Tingles of pleasure shot through her with each jolt as he carried her upstairs, her legs wrapped around his waist. She was already hot and ready for him, and would have ripped his pants open and impaled herself on him right there if she thought she had the strength for it.

Instead, she had to wait until Simon had carried her to his bedroom and lay her on the bed. She wriggled out of her skirt and jacket and silk blouse while he peeled off his t-shirt and shorts. She couldn’t get naked fast enough, as far as she was concerned. By the time she had tossed her underwear and bra aside, Simon was lunging for his bureau, yanking open the top drawer and taking out a condom. She shivered in expectation as he slammed the drawer shut and stalked back to her.

“Aren’t you worried about going back to work after this?” he asked, crawling over top of her and balancing himself above her like a predator that had caught his prey at last.

“No,” she answered, reaching for him. She spread her hands across his chest, brushed her fingertips over his nipples, then down to the hard, flat plain of his stomach.

Simon groaned, dipping down to pull a savage kiss from her lips. Yes. This is how it had been between them last summer—hot, raw, and bursting with need. Jenny writhed beneath him, frustrated that his knees were on the outside of her thighs, keeping her from opening herself to him. She didn’t want to play games or tease. She wanted him pounding in her, driving her to new heights of pleasure. She wanted to cycle through ever position known to man and a few humans had yet to try. Anything to lose herself in the heat of this man.

He tore himself away from their kiss and stared down at her. The hungry, dangerous glint in his eyes was enough to make her want to crawl out of her skin, or have him touch every inch of it.

“Simon,” she said with a desperate moan.

Still, he hesitated above her. The condom he’d fetched was still wrapped and in his hand. Every second he delayed made her want to weep with desire.

“This is not last summer,” he said at last. A sweep of calm passed over him. “This is so much more.”

“I want you more than then,” she agreed.

He shook his head, surprising her by bending down to kiss her, long and soft. Tender. The aching need between her legs flared even more intensely. She pushed her legs out against his trapping knees, trying desperately to show him just how ready she was. He held her in check.