Page 56 of The Forbidden Note

Stiffening, I turn and gasp in shock.

“Mr. Cross?”

“Miss Jamieson.” The superstar’s voice has a deep, husky quality.

The moment I hear it, I think of Zane. They both have similar timbres, but Zane’s is like a rough caress while Jarod Cross is like honey, smooth and seductive.

“Why are you hiding in the trees?” Jarod Cross asks.

My eyes dart from side to side. “Oh…”

“Shouldn’t you be down there?” He points past the secluded tree line to the funeral.

My mouth goes dry.

I intentionally stayed a distance away. This is my first funeral since Sloane, and I feared that the burial would stir up painful memories. I also didn’t want to be around Zane after that tense moment at the funeral parlor. The more walls I can put between us, the better.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” I say finally.

“Mm.” Jarod Cross tilts his chin up, inhaling a breath.

I watch the way the light hits his face, a little fascinated by the shimmer to his appearance. Do all celebrities glow like that or is it just him?

Plus he’s one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. His hair is thick, his nose straight and his chin sharp and slightly roguish. Ink crowds every inch of the skin I can see.

His sex appeal is no surprise. In no time at all, he got mom to fall in love with him. And he’s the father to three of the most handsome seniors at Redwood Prep.

The three shiny apples don’t fall far from the shiny tree.

Jarod’s eyes catch on mine, two shadows that make the forest feel a little darker than it did before.

Unnerved, I glance away.

I don’t know much about the rockstar.

And I’ve always suspected that’s intentional.

He strikes me as a man who knows exactly what to show people at any given moment. In fairness, I’d be cautious too if I was a mega-star living under a microscope and being dissected by the public for years.

On the other hand, he could be hiding something.

If the reason is more insidious, I can’t tell.

And I wish I could.

His movements don’t make sense to me.

But Iwantto like him.

I want to believe the fairytale. That he saw my mother at a diner after playing a late concert. That he fell madly in love. That he couldn’t be without her and asked her to marry him.

Mom deserves to be a Cinderella for once.

I just wish this love didn’t feel like a delicate glass slipper, easily shattered at any moment.

More leaves crunch as Jarod Cross comes to stand beside me. He smells like the forest—fresh pine, sunshine, and something earthy. I bet I wouldn’t be able to find his cologne in a store. He strikes me as the type who’d have even his underwear custom-made.

“Did you know her?”

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