Vegas Love (17 page)

I walk away from him. I don’t care if he’s my brother or my boss. She needs me right now.

Except when I get back to her dressing room, I’m told by Jerome that she’s already back on set.
 

Crazy Hot

Ashlyn

I wake up to a kiss on the forehead.

“You stayed?” I ask, surprised he didn’t sneak back home last night.
 

“I couldn’t leave you,” he says, curling me into his arms, his lips pressed against my temple.
 

“I’m sorry I fell asleep on you. I didn’t mean to.”

“You had a pretty emotional day. I was amazed that you were able to continue working after all that. It was impressive.”

“Well, you know what they say. The show must go on.”

“What do you want to do today?”
 

“I have absolutely no plans this weekend except for the movie premiere on Sunday afternoon. I have to be at the hotel at noon to meet the hair and makeup team.”
 

“You mean
we
have to be there.”

“It will be boring, but I could schedule a massage for you. That’s the first treatment I’ll be getting. We could both get one.”

“I need one, really. I’ve had a hell of a time. See, I met this girl. We hooked up. It was crazy hot. Then we went to Vegas, got married, and she ditched me.”

I playfully smack his arm. “Be nice.”

“Do you know what you’re wearing? Should I wear my suit from the wedding or did you want to come pick out something else?”

“I have no idea what I’m wearing. My stylist, Zoey, will be there with a rack of options for me to choose from.”

“And I have a brother down the beach with a closet full of options.”

“Oh, that sounds fun. I’d like to dress you.”

“I’d much prefer you undress me,” he teases.

“You think your brother will have bacon again?”

“Only if you beg,” he says, rolling on top of me and giving me a steamy kiss.

Everyone Goes

Cash

When we get to the house, it’s quiet, but Carter’s car is in the garage.
 

I run into my room and quickly change clothes, throwing on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

“Why don’t we cook this time?” I tell Ash. “You mix up the eggs. I’ll start the bacon.”

She rummages through his pantry and pulls out a box. “I think we need pancakes too!”

I push her into the pantry and kiss her.
 

We’re starting breakfast when a gorgeous, leggy blonde comes out of Carter’s room wrapped in one of his shirts. Which is really good news, because it means my brother was too busy to notice I wasn’t here last night.

“I thought I smelled food,” she says, plopping down at the island. “Is there any coffee?”

“We haven’t made any yet,” I say.
 

She puts her elbow on the bar and rests her face in her palm. “I could use some.”

I’m about ready to tell her this isn’t a restaurant and she can make her own damn coffee when my brother joins us wearing just a pair of athletic shorts and a smile. It’s the kind of smile you’d see after he’d thrown a touchdown pass.
 

Which stops me in my tracks.
 

This girl wasn’t just sex. If she were, he’d have a cocky, satisfied grin. He likes her.

“I’ll put some on,” I say, reaching my hand across the bar. “I’m Carter’s brother, Cash.” I point to Ashlyn. “And this is Ashlyn.”

“Ashlyn Roberts,” she says with an excited smile. “I’m Vale. We met backstage at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. You were with Harper.”

“I remember,” Ashlyn says. “How are you?”

“Good. Came here to soak up some sun before New York Fashion Week starts. Are you coming to any of the shows?”

“We’re just wrapping up filming, so I won’t get to come for the whole week. If all goes well, I’ll be there Saturday through Thursday.”

“And I’ll be there with her,” I say, getting the coffee started and hoping she really will let me be there with her.

“See, Carter,” Vale says with a little pout. “
Everyone
goes to Fashion Week.”

“You should go,” I say, just to be a shit. I mean, I am his little brother. It sort of comes naturally.

“I didn’t realize you were such a fashionista,” Carter says to me. Then he turns to Ashlyn. “Is he really going with you?”

“Of course,” Ashlyn says, playing along with me. She gives the pancake batter another whisk and says, “Carter, I think you need to come make the pancakes. Aren’t they your
specialty
?”

Carter’s cheeks turn pink as he and Ashlyn share a knowing smile. Which pisses me off. How the hell does she know what his
specialty
is? And why the hell did he blush?
 

Carter pours pancake mix onto the griddle then turns back toward us. “I’d like to go to Fashion Week, but it’s football season. My schedule is crazy. I’ll be scouting new clients at college games as well as going to a lot of my current client’s pro games.”

Vale sighs, gets up from the counter, and pouts. “I’m going to change.”

I roll my eyes when my brother goes chasing her tail. I tilt my head and watch her retreat though, because the girl has a very nice tail. My brother has good taste.

Ashlyn smacks me up the side of the head. “Stop that.”

“She’s practically naked. Hard not to look,” I say in my defense. “Are you really going to let me go to New York with you?”

“Yes. Want to know why?”

“Because you love me?”
 

She looks into my eyes for a beat then says, “Zach will probably be there.”

I don’t get to reply because Vale breezes back into the room with a smile on her face.

“He’s coming,” she happily announces.

“I’ll bet he is,” I say under my breath to Ashlyn, who stifles a laugh.

“That’s awesome,” Ashlyn says to Vale. “There are so many events and parties to go to. We’ll have fun.”

“So are you two dating?” Vale asks casually, pointing toward us. “I thought you were with Zach Ellison?”

My brother smirks at me in amusement.

Asshole.

“They broke up,” I tell Vale, avoiding the other question, but then she raises her perfectly formed eyebrows at us.

Ashlyn grabs the coffee pot. “Coffee’s done!” Which, thankfully, causes Vale to switch subjects.

“I’ll have to admit that I’m feeling a little hungover.” She points at Carter. “That one is trouble.”

Ashlyn pours herself a cup, sits at the bar next to Vale, and points at me. “They’re
both
trouble.”

We eat breakfast and then Vale gives my brother a steamy kiss and says, “I’ll see you later.”

I give my brother a smirk after she leaves.

“Traveling for a girl, isn’t that against the rulebook?”

“Rulebook?” Ashlyn asks.

“Shut up,” Carter says. “She’s cool.”

“Uh, oh,” I laugh. “Sounds serious.”

“Stop teasing your brother,” Ashlyn scolds as we’re finishing up the dishes. “Vale is cool. How long have you known her, Carter?”

“I met her at a Super Bowl party last year. She calls me when she’s in town.”

“You’re her booty call. How sweet,” I tease.
 

“I am not. We maybe kinda like each other.”

“I would think she maybe kinda more than likes you if she invited you to Fashion Week. She wants to show you off. You don’t usually do that if you only kinda like a guy,” Ashlyn states.

“Really? Hmm,” Carter says.
 

“He’s starting to sweat, Ash. We better get going.”

On the way back to her house, she stops every so often to look for seashells.
 

“So, um, how do you know pancakes are my brother’s specialty?”

“I was teasing him when we were in Vegas about all the girls who hit on him. He said if he likes a girl more than just a one-night thing, the next morning he makes her pancakes.”

“But he blushed.”

“I think it’s because he likes Vale a lot.”
 

She bends down to examine another shell then shoves it in her pocket.

“How come you always choose the broken ones?” I ask. “You have a bowl full of them by your bed.”

“Because they remind me of life. Each shell is like a fragment of a life lived. I feel like the ones that wash ashore all perfect looking died young. The broken ones are more interesting. Like see this one, see how thick it is, but notice the edges are super smooth? This shell is broken, but over time its edges got smoothed out. And look at this one. Notice how jagged it is? It’s a new break. Like it hasn’t gotten to heal yet.”

I pull her into my arms. “Which kind of shell are you?”

She holds up the one with the smooth edge. “I think it depends. My dad died a long time ago, so that hurt or break would probably be smoothed out by now, maybe.”

“And what about your mom? You really don’t talk much about her. At the wedding, you said she only talks to you when she needs money.”

“I told you that?

“Yeah.”

She sits down in the sand and sighs.
 

“The public knows me as Ashlyn Roberts, the girl who burst into Hollywood and set the town on fire with her talent at seventeen. What they don’t know is I got lucky. That I left home the night one of my mom’s drunken hookups decided I’d be fun to play with. When I yelled at him not to touch me, my mom told me to stop being so dramatic. That was the last straw. I kicked him in the balls and stole my mom’s drug money out of the cookie jar. I walked out the door and never looked back. It’s hard to believe how much my life has changed since then.

“My mom and I don’t have a relationship, really. Part of me thought she would be proud of what I’ve accomplished, but all she cares about is the next hit. Our only contact is when that’s in jeopardy. We’ve only seen each other once since I left. And it didn’t go well.
 

“It wasn’t always bad, though. When my dad was alive, we were a normal family. I’m not sure what exactly happened in the accident that took his life, but I think she blamed herself. Although, sometimes I think she blamed me. She was either crying or mad. I would go to sleep to the sound of her sobbing and wake up to the sound of her breaking things.
 

“Eventually, she self-medicated her grief with alcohol. The tables turned and at the ripe age of seven I started taking care of her. She didn’t work. My dad had some insurance money and it kept a roof over our heads and her in booze. She would go to my parent teacher conferences drunk.

“When I was a junior in high school, she started adding prescription drugs to the mix.
 

“The crazy thing is that’s why I learned to act. I had to act like I wasn’t devastated my dad was dead, because my mom got mad if I cried about it. I had to act like everything was fine at home when I was at school even though it was falling apart.
 

“I think that’s why it was so easy for me to finish filming after Bart attacked me. Pretending is sort of second nature.”

“Where is your mom now?”

“She used to live in the small town I grew up in. A few years ago, she moved to Idaho with some guy. He left her but she stayed there.”

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Last week. She needed money. Dad’s insurance ran out a long time ago. My point is that just because I look perfect on the big screen, doesn’t mean I’m perfect in real life. The makeup and lighting hide all my cracks.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I say, taking her hand in mine. “One that’s really important to me.”

“Sure.”

“Do you want kids someday?”

“You’d think with my background that I wouldn’t, but I do. I’m going to be a good mother and my kids will always know they are loved.”

“Since I’m going somewhere important with you tomorrow, is there a chance you might go somewhere important with me today?”

“Of course. Where?”