Tattooed Hearts (14 page)

“An all-expense paid trip
to one of his races overseas.”

“That is a great prize.
And as sexy as Adam is, I’d bet on it too. Just to be on the sideline. And that
beautiful wife of his, I like her,” she said once the show went
into commercial. “What’s her name again?”

“Lily,” he responded,
although he’d bet all of his savings, Lyme disease or not, Mrs. Kane knew
everyone’s name on the island.

She waved a hand. “What
does he call her?”

“Liliana.”

“Yes.” She beamed. “I love
that h
e calls her by her full name in that sexy
accent of his.
You’re sexy too, but you know…
the bookish kind.”

“Thanks.”

She wrinkled her nose.
“Maxie calls you guys the four hotties.”

He made a mental note to
beg Maxie, their favorite waitress at Vapor, to st
op
referring to him as a hottie. While at it, drop the “sexy,” “hottie,” or
whatever.

“Well, you don’t have an
accent.”

Forrest picked up his bag.
He always enjoyed a visit with Anne, but damn it his shoulder blade was
officially burning. Ice pack and ESPN
should do the
trick. Something deep in his heart whispered Claire’s name and tried to tell
him to call her, but he ignored it. “I should leave before my ego is fully
deflated.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” She
laughed and Forrest couldn’t help but smile. “I love
you. You’re my favorite doctor out of your crew.”

“I’m the only doctor.”

“Technicality.”
She handed him the phone.
“Anyhow, it appears you made the news.”

Frowning Forrest took the
phone from Anne and looked at the screen. A picture of Claire standing nex
t to him with her hand encased in his, both of them looking
solemn. He gla
nc
ed over the words.

The reason for Claire Peters walking away from her career seems to
be to comfort her longtime friend and apparent first love. I think there’s
still something there between those two. They are burning the pages. H-O-T!
What say you, readers? Word on the streets…he’s a long lost Montgomery.
More to come.

Forrest groaned over the
invasion of privacy. Not that he was surprised by it. A lot of people probably
overheard the shouting match between him, his mother,
Jason, and Charles at the repass. While the people on the Vineyard were guarded
and protective of their own, the funeral had attracted outsiders. One of them
probably took that damn picture and went str
aight to
the media.

His stomach churned.

Adam and Jason both had
had their share dealing with the media. Jason had to deal with his mother’s
death with photographers in his face. For years Adam had a reporter breathing
down his throat, digging into his pas
t. They both
managed not to feed the beast. Claire as well
,
she lived under a
microscope. It was probably worse for her. He’d seen a few of the magazines she
headlined. The tabloids described even the most salacious details of the
private lives of the rich
and famous. But Claire
seemed to understand and accepted it. Forrest wanted none of the flash or
notoriety that came with being a star or with the Montgomery name.

Montgomery. The name
slashed at him with betrayal.

“We won’t go into you
being a Montgomery
and all. But for the record, my
friends and I always suspected.”

“I see.” His tone came out
much more bitter than he’d intended.

“Oh, darling, I never
thought I’d see you so angry. You’ll have to let it go sooner or later. Holding
on to pain is not good f
or the heart.” She handed him
the tray of cookies again. “Speaking of matters of the heart, how are things
between you and our town superstar?” Anne’s voice rose with interest. “I mean,
she’s the love of your
life
. Everyone knows that.”

The admission didn’t
surprise him. One of the perks of living on an island was everyone knew
everyone’s business. Good or bad. “There’s nothing between me and Claire. We
are friends.”

Those words made him a
liar and in denial for refusing to accept the ob
vious
reality of his situation. First, they were not friends. They hadn’t been in a
long time. Second, no way in hell was he over Claire. Not one bit. Never mind
he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind for the last decade.

No matter how carefully he
tried to compartmentalize their relationship, she still
coursed through his veins. The other night had been the icing on the cake, the
light that lit his bonfire heart. He wanted more. He’d take it slow this time
and touch, kiss every inch of that wicked
body of
hers.

He raked a hand through
his hair. She got through to him once before, even when common sense told him
to stay away. She’d been too young, too impressionable, too naïve. He’d gone
ahead and defied
logic
,
followed his heart and
took the plunge.

In the end she walked away
with no explanation. Not even a goodbye.

He wanted none of that.

He’d be foolish to go down
that slippery road again.

Chapter Twelve

“How to save your heart – Don’t get affected.”

Forrest Montgomery Desvareaux

Rustic barn
pendant light cords hung from the beams on the high
ceiling, giving the recreation center a warm and intimate feel. Tables
stretched from one end of the room to the other, layered with trays of
wood-fired pizza from Flatbread, lobster rolls, tapas style p
lates from Vapor. Grilled trout with lemon prepared by Adam
and Lily sat among mounds of fragrant wild rice, potatoes, and diced pumpkin
smeared with butter and spices. Countless cheeses with baskets of crackers,
bread rolls shaped as seashells, and variou
s salads
and side dishes.

Claire placed her mother’s
smoked sausages and the pineapple-glazed ham on the table,
then
scanned the packed room. Adam had one
arm around Lily’s shoulder while talking to Blake, Jason and Tyler, the owner
of Flatbread Pizzeria a
nd her first kiss.
Familiar faces–old, young, former
classmates, hugging, laughing, and talking the night away.
The world and his wife
were here tonight.

“I’m going to go talk to a
friend.” Her mother leaned in a little closer. “No one here would ever
contact the tabloids,” she said, referring to the picture
of Claire and Forrest from the funeral currently making the rounds. “We don’t
do that to one of our own. So relax and enjoy being home tonight. It feels
good, doesn’t it?”

It didn’t. Regardless of t
he warm greetings she always received from everyone, she
wasn’t one of them. Not anymore. Not since she learned she’d never be good
enough because she was the maid’s daughter.

Her mother squeezed her
hand then walked away. Claire watched her. Shoulders squ
ared. Chin up. Her mother stood no taller than she did, yet she carried
an air of confidence and seemed to own the room as she sauntered through the
happy, chattering crowd. Within seconds, her mother fell into an effortless
conversation with a few women f
rom one of her social
clubs. She might not have the financial wealth as the others in her circle, but
her mother belonged here. The island and the people were as much a part of her
as she was a part of them.
Her
home.

The familiar empty feeling
reared up i
n her. Arms crossed over her chest, Claire
stood rooted to the spot.

The aroma, the sea of
faces, like pebbles on the beach, drone-like chatter of best friends, laughter
of children, lovers holding hands, The Killers’
Mr. Brightside
blaring out of the subw
oofers, conjured up memories of a time gone and a place she
no longer called home. For a moment, she became lost in a transitory evocation
of her childhood–Mickey Mouse every Saturday morning, watching a storm come in
on the beach, riding her bike with the
sparkling
streamers while the boys chased behind. But she’d been away too long, and now
it all felt like a half-forgotten dream. But not the hold Forrest had on her
,
that part of her past
continued to gnaw at her heart. She used to force herself to believ
e their time was never that significant, maybe even a
figment of her imagination. But like tonight, the ache of longing to be with
him echoed through the very marrow of her bones.

“Come on, Miss Sunshine.”
Keely nudged her elbow on Claire’s side and smiled
.
“You look like you’re a stranger to everyone here.”

She smiled at her friend.
“In a way I am.”

“Not any more than me. I
didn’t grow up here.”

“Where’s Minka? I don’t
see her anywhere.”

“She’s not feeling well.
Jason said something about a stomach virus.”

“Is Forrest here?” Quickly
she gave the room another once-over. No sign of the island’s favorite doctor.
Was he avoiding her or everyone in general?

“I haven’t seen him.”
Hazel eyes studied Claire.
“Happy
or sad over that?”

She exhaled. “I don’t
know. Las
t encounter wasn’t the greatest.”

“I can’t imagine Forrest
being blah in bed.” Keely wrinkled her nose. “Not that my mind goes there, but
if it were…”

“You’re starting to sound
like Lily.” A little chuckle escaped Claire’s mouth. “I mean the morning after
.”

“I have a feeling he
caught you trying to run away again,”
Keely
said with no judgment at
all. “Maybe you should stop doing that.”

“I’m not running. I’m
here.”

Keely
looked her friend over.
“You have uncertainty written all over
your face.” She slid an
arm in the crook of Claire’s.
“Come on, let’s go have some fun.”

Sometime in the night, the
happiness around the room became infectious. It started as a tingle in her
fingers and toes, much like the feeling she had when she was anxious, but
instead of worr
isome, it was warm. Most of the food
had been eaten and everyone was lively. Loud, thumping music played in the
background making it impossible for Claire to hear her voice or anyone else’s
for that matter. It didn’t matter. Tyler caught her hand and dragg
ed her onto the dance floor.

For a split second, she
hesitated, the picture of Forrest holding her hand while mourning his father
still fresh in the headline. Ava, head of her public relations team, had called
to see if damage control was needed. None nece
ssary
had been her response. The act had been intrusive, but to address it would fuel
the fire and bring unwanted attention to Forrest. She could count on one hand
the many times he’d been photographed with Jason or Adam.
None with her—at least never alone
.

“You’re with friends,
Claire,” Tyler said, smiling. “Come on, let’s dance. Maybe I’ll get Forrest
jealous for old time’s sake.” He grinned and pulled her into him.

“He’s not here,” she
pointed out to her friend.

Tyler chuckled. “Ten bucks
he’ll show up.
He can’t stay away, not from you.”

If only
that were true.
Ignoring the way her heart fluttered over the possibility,
she looked around the room. A contemporary tune enticed guests to the dance
floor. Dancing bodies tangled together. Among them, was her mo
ther, laughing with a tall, slender man with ebony
skin.
With everyone being
carefree, she decided to drop her guard and thrust herself into the writhing
mass of sweating bodies. Random fun was something she used to be good at and
needed at times.

In a mat
ter of minutes, she was swaying to
Renegades
by X Ambassadors. The
alternative-soulful beat spun her around, lifting away gravity. It felt good.
She became one with the beat, releasing the day’s stress. A pair of strong
hands grabbed her waist from behind,
and she jumped
at the sensation. Gooseflesh bloomed, making her skin tingle with desire. Only
one person affected her that way.

She frowned at Tyler. He
shrugged, nodded at the person behind her. “Looks like I got to him again.” He
smiled
and gave her the
I-told-you-so
look
. “You owe me ten dollars.” And then he was gone.

Claire spun around to face
Forrest, his hair tousled from the cold wind, annoyance on his face.

“I need to talk to you.”
His voice was like the magma chamber of a volcano, deep but filled
with molten rock. Claire’s bones vibrated.

“What
about?”

“You and
me.
Come on.” Large masculine hands pressed to the center of
her back as he guided her through the room.

“Leaving the party?” Jason
said by the door, a chilled bottle of beer dangling betwe
en his fingers. His blue eyes panned Forrest’s face. “You
don’t take calls anymore.”

“You sound like a wounded
girlfriend,” Forrest bit back.

Jason shrugged, as if he
could care less. But Claire knew better. The two men had a long-standing
friendship. “And
you’re acting like something crawled
up your ass and died.” He took a chug of his beer. “What the fuck is your
problem?”

Silence hung in the air,
suspended like the moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground.

“You’re a Montgomery.”

Jason stood a
little straighter, the Montgomery pride and arrogance in
full effect. “So are you.”

Absolute
stillness.
The two men stared at each other.
Alpha against Alpha.
Chests lifted then
expanded. Claire’s stomach twisted. Seeing them at odds made her nauseous.

Sh
e looked at Forrest. “You wanted to talk.”

With his hand still on her
lower back, they walked outside of the room and down the hall. They stood with
barely an inch between them, eyes locked. Neither spoke. “You’re with Tyler?”
he asked after a long beat of
silence.

She blinked. “What?”

“He’s a nice guy and all,
but…”

“I kissed Tyler when I was
sixteen.”

His
gray
eyes darkened.
“Only then.”

Claire held her breath
behind pursed lips to steel herself against the burst of laughter to come. It
always came. Espec
ially when she was feeling excited
or nervous, in this case, it was a combination. Forrest was jealous. “Only
then,” she repeated.

“Claire, about the other
day…,” he said after another long silence.

Her heart skipped. She
waited.

“I apologize if I came off
a bit…”

“Cold,” she finished for
him.

He let out a slow deep
breath. “Distant.”

She smiled tightly at him.
“
It’s
okay, Forrest. I’m a big
girl.”

“Are you okay then?” He
removed his glasses and stared at her.

She hated when he did
that. It made her feel na
ked and vulnerable. Claire
brushed her hands over her sweater and peered at the window, focusing her
attention on the blackness outside. “I’m fine.”

He closed the distant
between them in one stride and touched the pad of his thumb against her cheek,
drawin
g her eyes to his. “Once upon a time I would
have done anything for you.
For
us.”

 
“And now?”

“That was ten years ago. A
lot has changed.”

His words splintered her,
smashing her heart. Tears threatened to spill
.
S
he
swallowed them down. “You
don’t love me
anymore.”

He straightened himself,
took several steps away from her, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Every
muscle in his face was tense and without a word he communicated a deep
mistrust, anger, and a time lost. “You left without saying goodbye.” Ther
e was a beat of accusatory silence.
“Without telling me why.”

“I wasn’t good enough for
you.”

“You should have let me
decide that.”

“Forrest.”

His jaw ticked.

“You’re over me?” she
asked, holding his gaze.

He squinted at her through
hardened eyes that once
gleamed with love and
devotion. But now, as his gaze dissected her bit by bit with the least bit of
care, Claire was struck by their coldness.