Bombshell (Hollywood A-List #1)(42)

“You’re right,” she said. “That’s why this is temporary. That’s why I didn’t want to work for a celebrity household. Because I can’t stand seeing kids getting dragged all over the world or orphaned by their parents’ jobs. I’ve seen it done well and I’ve seen it done right, but it’s not often.”

She walked down the path and the lights followed.

This was bullshit. I ran out and got in front of her.

“Lady. You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve done the best I can. I was going along pretty-as-you-please before this bombshell dropped—”

“She’s not a bombshell. She’s not a problem to solve. She’s a human being you made. You don’t see her. You don’t see how hard she’s working to deal with what happened.”

“What about you?”

“What—?”

“What are you dealing with?”

“As your consultant, I advise . . .” She stopped talking, letting her advice hang midair. I wanted it. I wanted to pluck it out of dead space and take it, whatever it was.

“What?”

“I advise . . .” She took a deep breath. “You seem all right.”

“What kind of advice is that?”

“What do you want for her? For you? What were you hoping for?”

The idea that I was hoping for anything was ridiculous. I laughed. It had a sardonic edge, what my grandmother would have called “laughing outta two sides of your face.”

“I ain’t had a chance to hope for much, ma’am. I was just going about my business. I was a happy guy, you know? All I had to do was work and be nice to people. So you’ll excuse me if I have to adjust.”

“You never thought about it? When you saw your friend Michael Greydon adopt six kids, what did you think? Anything?”

I didn’t know if she was implying I was deficient. Would she? And what did I think of my buddy marrying a lady-pap and adopting six kids?

“Figured it would happen at some point. The normal way. Girl, then wife, then baby. And I think he’s crazy. Fucking nuts. He can’t go out without asking his wife. Can’t take a dump without having a kid banging on the door. He had a career . . . a real career. Now he’s doing one movie a year and spending the rest of the time in legit theater so he can be home. What the hell is that? Is that me? Is that Brad Sinclair? Mike didn’t work his way out of a lumberyard in Arkansas, all right? He was born royalty. That’s not even an option for me, so this little girl? She’s gonna have to roll with it.”

Cara tapped her finger against her bicep and watched me as I had a mini meltdown. Didn’t move. Jesus Christ, she was so in control. How did she do that?

I should have been ashamed of having a tirade. Mom had a way of making me so embarrassed of my tantrums that I stopped. How do you like that now? Everyone seeing your insides? Pretty as a wild boar, I’d say.

Somehow, Cara didn’t make me feel like that. I felt safe. Weirdly safe. Uncomfortably safe.

“What?” I asked.

“I was an afterthought. My parents love me, but they didn’t know what to do with us. We were an inconvenience. That was how I felt. And when I see other kids having to bend their lives around their parents’ careers? It makes me sad, and I want to solve it for them. But there’s no solving it. And here I am again.”

“Wow.” That was more information than I ever thought she’d give about herself, and I wanted to answer every word. I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t anyone’s inconvenience. Her parents loved her. They had to. Who wouldn’t?

“Do all the nannies talk like that?”

“Only the ones with thirty-day contracts.”

She was leaving. I kept forgetting that. Figured it would work itself out so she’d stay. Obviously, that hope was one-sided.

I wasn’t used to chasing women. They chased me or appeared right and ready where I needed them. But this one was different in every way. One, not a woman in the strict sense because she was staff. I was paying her to do a job. She wasn’t a hanger-on or a costar. She wasn’t available. I wasn’t supposed to go near her. Not in that way.

But, man. Shoot me in the face. The way she ran her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face, and the way it just flopped over it again? And the crickets? And the smell of bluegrass like home. It just looked right.

For the first time, it made sense.

And f*ck sense.

“You’re a time bomb,” I said. Filter-free Brad in full effect.

Her jaw set, and for the second time we stood still long enough for the path to flick into darkness. Her lips parted, and before another word left her mouth I was in motion.

I kissed her. I didn’t know why. To smash the barrier of her hardened jaw. To sweep away the bullshit talk of consulting. Whatever. It was wrong. But at the time it seemed like the only thing to do.

She pushed me so hard I fell back a step. Disappointing, but not unprecedented. She stood back, panting. Took a gulp. I had to work hard not to smile.

I still had it.





CHAPTER 31


CARA


His lips were heaven. His hands on my face were Planet Dream and Planet Real crashing, fusing, pulling both out of orbit. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even groan how good he felt touching me. Better than the dreams, better than the morning orgasms he inspired.