Page 4 of The Kissing Part
“It’s good to see you again, Owen,” she says with a small smile.
My gut tightens as memories flood me. She was a curvy blonde-haired, blue-eyed fantasy at sixteen. Now she’s impossibly sexy, and I’m doing my damnedest to stay focused on her eyes. Not her luscious lips, her generous curves, or the sweet line of her neck, where I loved to nuzzle and breathe her in.
She was friends with my sister Harper first. Whenever I went by them, Shayla would always call me by name with just a hint of flirt behind it, “Hi, Owen,” “Nice to see you, Owen,” “Don’t be a stranger, Owen.” I started overusing her name, and the next thing you know, we’re meeting in the loft over the detached garage.
I fellhard.
Which has no relevance today. I don’t care how much I’m attracted to her. Dammit. Can my brain and body please get on the same page? I know better.
Maybeshe’sattracted tome, and that’s the tension I’m feeling between us. Or maybe I’m just stressed by the fact that Mom acted like she had a freaking emergency only to spring Shayla on me.
I keep my voice cool, calm, and professional. “Wish it were under better circumstances for you.”
Her gaze tracks from my eyes to my cheek and jaw and then back. “Yeah.”
“So, what’s his profile, what’s he done so far, and what have you done to protect yourself?” Stalkers are nearly always male.
She glances around. “Can we go somewhere more private? I don’t like sharing all the dirt in public.”
The library is closed, but cast and crew still mill about. I understand the need for discretion.
“We could talk outside,” I say.
“I don’t want to chance someone overhearing. People are still coming and going. How about my car? I could ask the driver to step out.”
I consider that. The thing about a car is the close proximity. It’s one thing to stay cool when there’s space between us. No space equals a temptation I don’t even want to consider. And what if she cries because of the stalker situation? I’ll practically be required to hold her, one thing will lead to another, and that spells disaster.
“How about we meet up at Mom’s house?” No chance of privacy there. Mom will be wanting to know all. She’s super protective of Shayla, which is probably why she called me to deal with this problem.
“Are you afraid to be alone with me in a car?” she teases.
“No. It’s just too confining. I need to spread out to think.”
“Uh-huh.”
I cross my arms, working on looking tough. I’m not going to get sucked in by her flirty charm. “So what about Mom’s house?”
“I’m staying at a hotel in the city.”
“Why wouldn’t you stay with Mom? Her place is wired top to bottom for security, and Frankie lives in the guesthouse.”
“I was there for a few days, but my things were moved to the hotel today since filming starts in the city tomorrow.”
“I’m not trekking all the way to the city to talk.” Translation: we will not be alone in a hotel room.
“Okay, so pick a place where you can spread out and think.”
I give her side-eye, not appreciating her teasing when I’m doing her afavorcoming up with a security plan. “Little respect here, Miss Big-Time Movie Star.”
Her lips curve up, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Mucho respect, Mr. Security Expert.”
I frown. “This is serious business.”
She steps closer, her voice soft. “That’s why I wanted you.”
My body flushes with heat. Not because I’m turned on. No way. It’s because she’s showing the respect I deserve. It’s pride that makes me warmer because I’m good at my job.
I consider the Happy Endings bar as a meeting place, my home territory, but decide she’ll attract too much attention. “We can meet in my office in Clover Park.” I hand her my phone. “Put your number in. I’ll text you the address. You can drive over with your bodyguard.” I look around for her guard. “Where is he?”
