Page 3 of Lovers at Seaside
He wiped down the coffee table with the clean, wet towel and tried to keep the distaste from coming out in his voice. “I’m sure there are plenty of other guys to take his place.”
Her mouth gaped.
He turned away and tossed the towel on the bar, having no patience for women who pretended they didn’t know they were pretty. “You’re Parker Collins. Tons of guys want y—” He turned around and nearly bowled her over. His arm circled her waist to keep her from falling. “Whoa. You okay?” Apparently she wasn’t only a skilled actress, but she also had wicked ninja skills.
Tears slid down her cheek, conflicting with the anger in her eyes.
“Bert Stein wasn’t aguy. You shouldn’t assume. You’re…infuriatinglymale.” She twisted from his grip, downed another shot, and sank down to the couch again. More tears fell, turning the anger in her eyes to sadness and filling him with guilt.
Grayson’s compassion overpowered his hatred of drama. He had a younger sister, and if she was this sad and a guy was with her but didn’t try to help, he’d pummel the guy. He sat beside Parker and gave himself over to five minutes of torture. “All right, I’ll bite. Who was he?”And by the way, why didn’t you tell me you were here? I wouldn’t have barged in.
She reached for the tequila, and he reached for her hand. Their eyes connected. Hers were so full of conflicting emotions—heat and sorrow—it stirred all the affection he was trying to push aside. He kept ahold of her hand and guided her back from the edge of the couch, taking her emotions more seriously, unwilling to let her fall any further into the blankness alcohol had to offer. He knew about that crutch all too well, having dealt with his father’s alcoholism a few years ago.
“Tell me about Bert,” he said in a softer tone. At Bert’s name, Christmas’s head popped up. The dog surveyed the room, then lowered his chin to his paws again and closed his eyes. At least Bert knew she had a dog.
“He was my…everything,” she said just above a whisper. “And now he’s gone.”
His heart ached at the sadness in her voice, pushing the jealousy in him to the pit of his stomach. When she lifted her eyes, another tear slid down her cheek, forcing that ache a little deeper.
“Gone, as in he went somewhere?” Grayson asked, hoping she hadn’t lost her lover forever. “Or gone as in,gone?”
“Gone.He was like a father to me, and two weeks ago he passed away.” She swallowed hard, more tears spilling from her beautiful eyes.
His breath hitched in his throat.A father?They’d emailed for nearly a year. How could he not know about someone so important to her? Now he was not only an idiot, but a jerk for assuming she was overreacting to a rough breakup.
She turned away, causing a torrent of emotions in him. The desire to pull her in to his arms until her sadness subsided obliterated every other thought. He gathered her close, soothingly stroking her back, remembering the gut-wrenching devastation he’d experienced after he’d unexpectedly lost his mother to an aneurysm. He closed his eyes with the memory, pushing his own painful past aside, and pressed a kiss to the top of Parker’s head.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He held her until her breathing evened out and her tears stopped. He wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs, wishing he could do something more and knowing time and compassion were the only things that would help.
“You came here to grieve?”
She nodded. “Flew in this morning.”
“What about your family? Don’t you want to be with them?” When he’d lost his mother, he’d needed family as much as he’d needed air to breathe. “Friends?” he asked hopefully.
“There’s only me.” Her eyes shifted to the dog. “And Christmas.”
You’re going through this alone? I should have known you had no family.As painful as that thought was, he realized she’d had no reason to include family in their email conversations. Maybe he hadn’t misinterpreted everything after all. Despite his waffling on the meaning of their interactions, his protective urges surged forth, driving his need to ease her heartache. He slid his hands to either side of her neck, brushing his thumbs over her jaw as he lifted her face so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. She was vulnerable and hurting, so different from the strong, sunny actress the world knew her to be. But grief didn’t care about social status, and neither did he. All he saw was the woman he’d spent almost a year thinking about night and day looking at him with sad, soulful eyes. Despite the warning bells going off in his head about their professional relationship and his potential misinterpretation of their emails, he wanted to hold her all night, to kiss her until her pain subsided, and to protect her from ever being hurt again.
He fought the urge to kiss her and said what remained true regardless of whether he’d misinterpreted their relationship or not. “And me, Parker. Now you’ve got me, too.”
Chapter Two
PARKER AWOKE SATURDAY morning to Christmas’s wet tongue slurping her face. She groaned, and the sound vibrated in her skull, making her regret turning to her new friend, Tequila, last night. She rolled over, and Christmas pressed his nose to her cheek, urging her to get up and feed him. She blinked a few times and realized they were no longer in the media room, but on her bed. She couldn’t remember coming upstairs. In fact, she couldn’t remember much past—Oh no! Grayson.
She bolted upright, sending a rush of blood throbbing behind her eyes. Groaning again—and immediately regretting it—she closed her eyes and reached beneath the covers, praying she wasn’t naked.Whew.Her eyes flew open with relief. She still had on her sweats and tank.
Oh no. My sweats?The ice-cream, chocolate, tequila-stained sweats? Images from the night before snuck into her mind: Grayson looking like sin and pleasure all wrapped up in more than six feet of deliciously rugged man. His eyes filling with amusement as he plucked candy from her hair, and a minute later, brimming with heat. The kind of heat that made her feel sexy and feminine. She closed her eyes again, hoping she hadn’t acted on those feelings.
She remembered telling him about Bert, and on the heels of that memory was the recollection of being in his arms and his soothing voice and reassuring words making her feel a little less lonely.If only I could remember if he made me feel less lonely in other ways, too.She’d never actually had drunken sex, but she’d been so wrapped up in Grayson’s emails soothing her for all these months, who knew what she would do when her brain was drenched in tequila and grief.
Christmas shoved his nose into her thigh, jerking her from her thoughts.
“Sorry. I know you’re hungry.”
Forcing herself to her feet, she waited for the pounding behind her eyes to settle, then padded down to the kitchen to get Tylenol and coffee and to feed Christmas. While Christmas ate, she meandered through the house looking for signs of drunken debauchery.
The living room cushions hadn’t been moved, and the hardwood floors were free of naked butt prints.Whew! At least we didn’t christen this room. Only about fifteen more to go.She looked up at the high ceilings and sent a little thank-you to the powers that be. She hadn’t expected to come to Wellfleet to grieve for the most important person in her life. She’d planned on returning to LA after she finished filming, spending a week or two with Bert, andthencoming to Wellfleet to see…
