Unwanted Stars (6 page)

I.

Am.

A.

Dumbass.

You know those moments when you really just want to crawl in a hole and forget your poor excuse for a life? Yeah, this was one of those. I could never get that moment back. I could never convince this gorgeous man that I was not only aware of the Channel Islands, but had probably been to one or two of them as a child. I just wanted to slink back to the tour bus and hide behind the seats. So not like me. I didn't let men get under my skin. Hell, I got under
their
skin. Who was this guy?

"Uh, of course," I said, stumbling through my words. "I was just kidding."

Just then, I was saved by another member of the tour. A mousy, brown-haired American girl named Becca.

"Excuse me, Auden. Anabelle needs you."

Thank God.

"I'd better, um...go," I said.

"Until we meet again," he said with a laugh.

Not if I can help it. The next three weeks would be agony if I had to dodge that gorgeous man every time our bus made a stop. Lord, beer me strength.

Three days. I'd managed to avoid those captivating eyes for three excruciating days. But I could describe them easily...to the tee, in fact. I could pick him out of an iris line up any day of the freaking week. That's lame, I know. But, it's true. I keep stealing glances at him when he's talking with his friends. That dimple above his cheek. Good lord, I could hardly stand it when he laughed. I had to force myself to look away.

Two and half weeks left to go.
I can do this. I can do this.

We were back in Germany. The last time I was here, I made the mistake of sleeping with my boss. I couldn’t make any mistakes again, or I'd be known as the Jordan Tours Slut of Germany.

I'd been on my best behavior. I'm a freaking Girl Scout this time. Last night we visited a tiny little vineyard in St. Goar. The scenery of this little town amazes me, so many hills and mountains all in sight. The wine cellar was underground, which was actually really cool. We sampled all kinds of white wine from their vineyard, but my favorite was the ice wine. Almost syrupy, it eased down my throat with a sweetness the other wines didn't possess. I was hooked and I wanted more. As I took the final sip from my tasting glass, I noticed those eyes looking at me from across the table. He lifted his glass and tilted his head to me. I managed a polite smile before downing the wine and turning my attention back to Anabelle.

"Would you like to purchase any wine today, miss?" the owner of the winery asked me. He was a pale man with a sweet expression on his puffy face.

God, I wanted to say yes. If possible, I'd buy a case of that wine. That's how much I loved it. Before I was able to utter a word in response, the Sergeant cleared her throat and brought me back to reality. I wasn't about to impress her by buying a bunch of booze.

"No, um, no thank you. But it was delicious," I said, placing my tiny glass on the rustic wooden table.

The owner simply nodded and made his way through the tour members, offering them a chance to purchase wine. Most of them did.
Lucky bastards.

After the winery tour and tasting was over, I was officially off the clock. A group of tour members, including the one whose name I refused to say because I was afraid he'd get under my skin if I did, asked me to join them at a local pub. But I felt Anabelle's eyes on me and I knew what Girl Scout Auden's answer needed to be.

"I'm going to call it a night," I said."But you guys have fun."

Glancing at the group as a whole, I simply nodded and gave them a wave. When my hand brushed against the side of my khaki shorts, I also felt a slight touch of warmth on the top of my hand. I knew who was touching me, but I still wouldn't look. Goosebumps rose along my arms.

"Are you sure? Just one drink?" I knew that voice. But I couldn't look at him. If I did, I'd change my mind. I'd get lost in those sexy eyes and forget all about the fact that the Sergeant was waiting for me to screw up. I had to be smart. I had to be strong. So, for a moment, I just focused on the sensation of his touch...the way he was slowly taking my fingers into the palm of his hand.

And then it happened. I looked at him. It was painful, and exciting, and torturous, and amorous, and...I choked. No seriously, I started choking. Most random thing to ever have happen. Needless to say, I looked ridiculous standing there choking in front of Mr. Sexypants.

"Breathe," he said softly. He took both of my hands in his, and I felt his breath against my neck as he slowly raised my arms above my head. "Just opening up your airways. Try to calm down."

Releasing one of my arms, he slowly dragged his fingertips up and down my spine, urging my body to calm. It did. I was able to catch my breath. Placing my hand over my heart, I looked at him again, only this time I was mortified. Did I seriously just choke on my own spit in front of the most beautiful man I'd ever come in contact with?

"I'm fine," I said, looking away. "Thank you."

"No trouble. Are you sure I can't get you to change your mind? We're not going to get pissed. Just toss back a few pints."

"Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to call my best friend. And I haven't spoken to her in a while, so..."

"All right. I can take a hint. Cheers then," he said as he joined the rest of the group.

"Yeah." I nodded. "See you in the morning," I replied before joining Anabelle and walking back to our hotel.

Once the door had closed behind me, I dug through my suitcase to find my calling card. I needed Hadley. I had to tell her about this man who had me completely intrigued.

She answered right away, thank God.

"Tell me about him," she said after just a few minutes on the line.

"I don't know that much. His name is Campbell, but his friends call him Hutch."

"Like
Starsky & Hutch
?"

"Exactly." I paused, loving that even across an ocean, she always got me. "He's tall, dark hair, chiseled chin, and his eyes are so intense…they're just...I don't know. He makes me feel weird."

"Weird how?" Hadley asked.

"Unsettled. Like...like I can't breathe around him. Like I'm always saying the wrong thing. And he's so polished. So freaking polite and polished, ya know?”

"Interesting."

"Tonight I literally choked when he touched me. I must've looked like the biggest idiot, but I couldn't help it. He touched me and I freaked!"

Hadley snickered and I knew that to some degree she was enjoying my frustration.
Brat.

"Nice, Had. Kick me while I'm down."

"I don't mean to. But seriously, this is so unlike you. I don't think I've ever heard you sound so...so..."

"Pathetic?"

"No! Vulnerable. I can hear it in your voice. And using words like unsettled? No one's ever made you feel like that. You're into him."

"I know. But I can't be."

"Why not?"

"The Sergeant will have my ass on a platter. And then I'll be on a plane back to Chicago."

"Not necessarily," she said. Her voice sounded mischievous. So unlike my friend. Hadley was the ying to my yang. The sweet to my sour. The polite to my sass. The organized to my fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants. Usually, I was the one with something up my sleeve. What a role reversal this was.

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Aud, you can be sneaky when you want to be. Figure out a way to spend time with him without Anabelle's radar going off."

"You think I can pull that off?" I asked, my wheels already spinning, wondering when I could possibly get time alone with Campbell without her breathing down my neck.

"Absolutely. Just be creative," she said. "Sweetheart, put that down, please."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, Marty somehow got a hold of one of Jason's books. I don't want him to suck on it. He's still putting everything in his mouth."

"Jase wouldn't care."

"I know, but I do," she said, before her voice changed and became soft and nurturing. "Thank you, sweet pea."

"How is the little one?"

"He's fantastic. Just getting into everything."

"Isn't that what toddlers do?"

"I guess so, yeah," Hadley said with a laugh.

"How are wedding plans?"

"They're coming along. We got the library."

"You did?" I screeched.

"Yeah," she said. She was holding back her excitement. She and her mom had been trying to secure her wedding reception at the Chicago Public Library as a surprise for Jason.

"Jase is going to shit himself," I said.

Hadley giggled into the phone. "God, I miss you."

"Me too." And I did. Badly.

"Do you think he'll be surprised?"

"Um, yeah...why else would he shit his pants? It's his favorite place in the world."

"I know. We're going to have the ceremony there, too."

"In the winter garden?" I asked. Before I left for Europe, Hadley and I had paged through Chicago Bride. I knew more than I ever thought I'd know about wedding receptions, chair rentals, appetizers, and flowers. And I'd learned all about the Chicago Library's accommodations. The winter garden is a European courtyard-style marble terrace covered with a fifty-two foot glass ceiling. It's positively stunning.

"Yep. Oh, and I'm going to send you a bunch of dresses to look at. I'll email them."

"I'll wear whatever you want. You're the bride."

"Seriously?" Hadley’s voice cracked in surprise.

"Why do you seem so shocked?

"Well, um, you've always had pretty strong opinions on wardrobe. And you hated the dress you had to wear for Maya's wedding."

"That's because it was the color of seaweed. You'd never pick out anything so hideous."

"Good point," she said.

"Okay, so back to Mr. Sexypants."

"Is that what we're calling him?"

"Yeah, I don't like to say his name."

"Why?"

"You'll laugh."

"Try me."

"Because it reminds me of soup." That really wasn't it. I was just biding my time, avoiding the subject in the best way possible by making my best friend laugh. And it worked. The laughter heard on the other end of the line went from a chuckle to a cackle almost immediately.

"Tell me the real reason," she said after calming down.

"Fine, okay, whatever," My eyes rolled, but I said nothing else.

"Auden..." Her tone was teacher-like. She meant business. I couldn't avoid it anymore.

"Because I like him. Way more than I probably should."

"I know you do."

"Okay...so now what?"

"Go get him."

I paused for a moment, thinking about Campbell, about Hadley and my brother, and how it took them forever to be with each other. I didn't want that. I thought about the clock on the wall and how I really wanted to put it in my suitcase. It was an antique cuckoo clock with little red birds that danced around each hour. It was calming and sweet, even though I was sure it was going to wake me up in the middle of the night. And because my stomach growled, I thought of soup. Tomato soup, to be exact. Which made me think of Campbell...and how much I wanted him to touch me again.

I sat down on the bed and heard a small crinkle. Not exactly a sound I'm used to hearing, unless I was carrying something in my pockets. But I wasn't...or at least I didn't think I was. My fingers dug into my pocket and retrieved a small piece of paper—a receipt. I flipped the small scrap of paper over and smiled. I knew exactly who’d placed it in my jeans.