Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(53)

I knew tonight was good-bye. I also knew if I stood in front of her, I wouldn’t be able to get the words out. I knew from watching her that she’d reserved a room at a hotel a few blocks away. She was a woman on a mission—she wanted to erase her sorrow with passion.

On any other day, I would have let her use me any way she needed, but I had blood on my hands, and I couldn’t taint her with that.

So, tonight I was proving I was a better man than I’d thought. I was letting her go.

“Good-bye, Greer.”

My words were lost on the wind, and she didn’t turn around until I was already out of sight.




Today I’m standing in the same place, staring at the same woman, but my intent is completely different. I’m not leaving without her. She’s mine, and I’ll fight heaven and hell to keep her. The sins of the past may not stay buried where they belong, but I refuse to let them rule our future.

No man will ever love her as much as I do.

“Greer.” I say her name but it’s lost on the wind, just like my good-bye three years ago.

I cross the roof, the noise of the city dying away as my focus narrows to her. She turns, pushes off the railing, and freezes when she sees me. Her dark eyes go wide as I stride toward her, stopping a foot away.

“What are you—”

I wrap my arms around her and haul her against me. “I can’t let you go this time.”

She tugs her arms free from where they’re trapped between us, and for the length of a heartbeat, I fear she’s going to push me away.

But she doesn’t.

She wraps them around my neck and clings to me.

“I can’t let you go either. Last time I didn’t have a choice, but this time I do. I love you. I don’t care what you did, because I know you did it for me.”

Thank f*ck.

I crush my mouth against hers, taking her lips, and Greer’s fingers curl around my nape, pulling me closer. For long moments, there’s nothing and no one but us.

Until we hear the clapping.

I grudgingly release Greer, lowering her to her feet as I scan the crowd of onlookers that has formed. There are only a dozen or so, but their phones are out, and I know this is going to be all over YouTube within minutes.

“Are you rehearsing for a movie? Because I want to see that one,” a lady calls out.

Greer presses her face into my chest, but her laugh sneaks up between us. “If they only knew,” she whispered. “If they only knew.”

I look down as she releases her grip on me. “You ready to go home, baby?”

“Where’s home, exactly?”

It’s just one more thing we need to work out . . . but I go with my gut.

“The Hollywood Hills. I think you were born to be a California girl.”

Greer slips her hand into mine. “Then take me home, Cav.”





A year later



I’m just leaving Starbucks, iced coffee in hand, when a woman asks me, “So, are you going to say yes?”

It’s Hollywood. I’ve gotten used to being recognized, but people mostly leave me alone.

“Excuse me?” I pause at her table.

“Are you going to say yes?” This time she holds up her iPad, and I see the text of an ad on a popular gossip site.

“May I?” I ask before snatching it out of her hands when she nods. The ad was posted only minutes ago.



Desperately seeking gorgeous, caring, perfect woman with a huge heart to make an honest man out of me and give Hollywood a happily-ever-after like it has never seen before.

I’ve got a big . . . ring, just sayin’.

GREER KARAS—WILL YOU MARRY ME?



He didn’t. He did.

That man. That man.

I hand her back the iPad. The grin on my face can’t be wiped off to save my life. Some things are permanent. Apparently, like me and Cav.

“I think I owe him the answer first, don’t you?”

Her smile and shrug are well meaning, and she holds out a Sharpie and a napkin. “Could I have your autograph?”

Shifting my purse, I set my iced coffee down and sign my name, and then grab another napkin and quickly draw something for myself before folding it up and sliding it in my purse.

When I moved in with Cav a year ago, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Never in a million years did I expect to be standing on the red carpet of a movie I was in, with Cav accompanying me to the premiere.

He asked me to help him run lines one night, and I got into it so much that he started bugging me to talk to his agent about auditioning for a role. I scoffed at the idea. Scoffed. Greer Karas was no actress.

But I was wrong.

I might not be starring in any big movies like Cav, but I’m having more fun with work than I ever thought possible.

And now it’s time to get home and talk to that man of mine.





I think I’m hearing things when the knock comes at the door. I’ve been waiting for a frigging hour for Greer to see the ad and come home.

No one knocks on our front door because of the gate . . .

I grab the box from the counter, hop off my stool, and slide across the wood floor in my hurry to get to the foyer. Six feet from the door, I slow.

This is it. The only time I’m ever going to ask a woman to marry me—well, other than in the ad I posted this afternoon.