Beautiful Distraction (23 page)

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes shimmer in the weak light of the moon. “She was
always worried about me. Yes, it was just a job, but if it weren’t for her, I
think I would have fallen into the usual drug crap. But she made sure to call
whenever she could. And she always listened. I still remember the last time we
Skyped. She begged me to quit.”

Which couldn’t have been easy. A contract with a label spans
years and countless albums. It’s hard to break out of, and even more so when a
lot of money is involved.

“How did you get out?” I ask.

“It wasn’t so hard,” Kellan says, as though reading my
thoughts. “The contract was for five albums. I just told them that I wouldn’t
do another. Countless lawyers were involved, but in the end, they realized they
couldn’t force me to stay.”

“How did they take it?”

“Not well.” His dark expression lights up. “But anyone can
wear a mask, right? My manager found a replacement, so it’s all final. The news
will be out next month, as soon as the PR department’s done coming up with
whatever bullshit story they think will sell best. Until then, this is one huge
secret no one’s supposed to know about. Except my team, my family, and…” He
points his thumb at me. “You.”

“So… officially, you’re still the lead singer of Mile High.”
He nods. “And privately, you’re—”

“Only a cowboy.”

I nod gravely and tilt my head back.

Only a cowboy.

I like the sound of that.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as his hands cup my face. “I’m
getting older, Ava. In eighteen months, I’ll be thirty. That’s like a dinosaur
in music years. It was about time I retired and went back to my roots. To a
time when things were simple. To the things I once took for granted.” He draws
a deep breath, hesitating. “Of course, it’s scary to leave everything behind,
but you know, it’s another reason why I wanted you to get to know the real me,
not the image that I’ve been feeding to the public. To most people out there,
I’ll always be K. Taylor. But to you, I want to be Kellan Boyd.”

“I think I like the real Kellan Boyd,” I whisper so low I
doubt he can hear me.

“Come with me.” Before I know what’s happening, he leads me
away from the street, through the meadow, to an old wooden fence.

Away from the lights, the stars are more prominent.

He takes my hand and helps me climb up the fence until I sit
on top of it, then he joins me. We’re sitting so close our arms almost brush,
but his proximity feels right.

Everything about him feels right.

Except the fact that he’s famous, and I’m just some ordinary
girl from NYC.

“I love it here.” My low voice sounds surprisingly alien,
surreal.

In the silence around us, I can’t stop thinking about his
sister, about the dream of a real cowboy to support his family, and the risks
he took to get there.

Kellan has an amazing voice, and music is his passion.

People out there deserve to hear his songs.

I want to hear his songs, but I also feel sad for the man
who wanted to quit all along, and yet didn’t, until it was too late and his
sister had already died serving her country.

“I love it too. But I love it even more now that you’re
here,” Kellan says.

“So, what do you think?” Kellan asks.

He
is
nervous. His
tone is less forceful than usual. Less sure of himself. “Here I am, famous and
rich, and I’m going to throw it all away. Not the money, of course, but
everything else. Does that sound sane to you?”

Sane?

What is sane?

 
Besides, who am
I to judge what is sane for him, and what isn’t?

“It think it sounds human.” I smile at him. “You must be
really sick of your job.”

He lets out a laugh. “You have no idea.”

“It’s okay.” I shrug. “What you’re doing is definitely
better than planning to kill your boss. Take me, for example. I sure would kill
mine, if I thought I’d get away with it.”

Which is just a joke, obviously.

But TB
is
unbearable.
The mere thought of her breathing down my neck has me covered in a cold sweat.

“I knew you’d get me.” His voice is serious again. His foot
is tapping against the wood. His whole posture is tense.

“Yep, kindred spirits and all.”

“So, now that you know the truth, has your opinion about me
changed?” he asks. “Are you disappointed?”

In the soft moonlight, I can see that he’s still smiling,
but his nervousness is obvious. He doesn’t need to say why he’s feeling this
way. I understand.

Quitting his job and turning his back on a world he’s lived
in for years is unsettling. The future’s unpredictable.

People won’t know the exact circumstances. Rumors will soon
spread. The tabloids will say that he failed, entered rehab, died. Soon, people
will move on and forget him. He’ll become a nobody to them.

As a journalist, I know. This business is cruel. It doesn’t
care about one’s feelings. It only cares about money and selling more copies
than the competition.

“Disappointed? Hell, no. I’m actually glad.” My fingers move
to intertwine with his. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like things to be
complicated.”

He stays silent for a long time.

“Those six days with you were amazing, Ava,” he says at
last. “Before, I didn’t know if I could trust you, but you turned out to be exactly
the woman I thought you were.”

I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment. I still
haven’t quite figured out
the
Kellan
Boyd, but I’d like to dedicate my time to solve the mystery he is.

“And who do you think I am?” I ask.

“Someone who’s amazing. Someone I want to get to know in
depth.”

My breath hitches in my throat.

This is my chance to tell him that’s exactly what I want,
too, and yet I keep quiet, letting him continue.

“The moment I met you, I knew you were different. You
weren’t dressed up to see some band greeting the crowd in a nightclub. You
weren’t even there to see the band.” His gaze flicks around the meadows before
it settles on my eyes and lips again. “I liked that, so I remembered your
license registration and found out your name, where you lived, basically
everything I could find out about you. It helps that my brother’s the deputy
sheriff around here.”

“Wow. That’s creepy.” I slap his thigh in mock annoyance,
marveling how hard and sculpted his muscles are. “See, that’s why I told Mandy
about you. I knew you were a creep, albeit a hot one,” I say, my voice low as I
think back three months ago, give or take a week or two. “If Ryder found out my
number, you could have called me.”

“You would never have talked to me, Ava. You made it clear
that you didn’t like me.” His gaze meets mine. The glint of candor in his eyes
makes me flinch. “And I don’t blame you.
 
I was an ass. But I still needed to see you again. It wasn’t until my
sister died that I had the courage to change my life, so I came up with a plan.
I persuaded my band mates to play a last, small gig in Montana and made sure
that you were picked as the winner in a radio giveaway swoop.”

In spite of the fact that he deceived me into seeing him
again and omitted most of the details about his life, I can’t help but feel
touched. No one’s ever done something remotely twisted for me.

Then again, it is quite the romantic story.

Definitely one I could tell my children—leaving out
Kellan’s obnoxious sexual innuendoes and the part where he went down on me in
his brother’s back yard.

And the week-long, non-stop sex.

And the part where he made himself cum, and I watched him,
which probably makes me the bigger creep out of the two of us.

“I have to say, that’s the nicest thing someone’s ever done
for me,” I whisper.

Kellan nods. “I have to admit it’s also the weirdest thing
I’ve done for anyone.”

“But why me?” I ask.

He jumps off the fence and shifts in front of me, settling between
my legs. His arms wrap around my waist. I lean into him and clasp my hands at
the nape of his neck.

“Remember the first moment I met you?”

I nod, my pulse racing. “Yes.”

Each and every detail.

“I was hypnotized—and angry as hell,” Kellan says,
grinning. “When I got back to my brother’s place, where I always stay when I’m
in NYC, the first thing I did was call my sister and tell her everything. She said
that I was an ass to you. Those words stuck.”

“Two women offending your ego in the same night?” I let out
a laugh. “How did you take it?”

He smirks. “Don’t ask. I told her that you’re a New Yorker, and
that you bunch of folks aren’t exactly friendly. That I had no choice but to be
an ass because you weren’t exactly the epitome of cordiality either.”

I open my mouth to protest, when he presses a finger to my
lips.

“Remember the first moment I saw you again? Completely
soaked, with that tiny umbrella in your hand, ready to battle a storm? That’s
the first time I felt happy since Clara’s death.”

His words stop my world.

I can’t believe it, and yet I know it’s true. We both make
each other happy. I can feel it in the way he seems to own my heart. In the way
his eyes lock with mine when he’s inside me, holding me, possessing me.

When did that happen?

“At first, I thought someone was pulling a prank.” He grins.
“When you knocked on my door, I assumed Josh was behind it. Or maybe Ryder.
Maybe even Cash, even though he’s in Boston right now, and I only mentioned you
once or twice.”

“Is that why you—”

He nods, interrupting me. “Why I was so mad?”

No…why you almost
kicked me out,
I want to say but don’t.

“I thought Josh had arranged for you to arrive on my
doorstep,” Kellan continues. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself and at
him. Then we got talking, and I realized it was all a coincidence. To be
honest, I had you pinned down as this city girl, and I didn’t know what you’d
make of seeing me here. This is my life, Ava. The plan was to meet you at the
hotel, then introduce you to the idea gradually and see what happened.” He
shakes his head, laughing. “But life has this tendency to kick you where it hurts
at the most unfortunate of times. Mandy took a wrong turn, and you ended up
here. That isn’t just crappy luck. It’s fate.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You could have sent flowers. An
I’m-sorry-for-bumping-your-car card.” I grasp for words. “You could have turned
up at Starbucks.”

He inclines his head, thinking. “And risk exposing myself to
someone I couldn’t yet trust? I don’t think so. It’s hard to get to know people
in the city. I was convinced you’d suspect who I was, like so many others. That
you’d recognize my voice. That you might be a fan and would want to be with me
because of my image and everything it stands for. When I realized you really
had no idea who I was and that you’d never want to date a rock star, I thought
that you were an extraordinary woman. No one ever rejected me the way you did.
It reminded me of the times before it all started, when I was still me.”

“So it never bothered you in the slightest that I wasn’t a
fan of Mile High?” I ask.

“I have to admit, I was offended…at first.” He catches my
exasperated sigh and laughs. “What? I was an ass, okay? I really was. But…” He
shakes his head, his laugh dying. “But my sister’s death has made me rethink
life, the choices I’ve made. I think I lost myself along the way. It’s time
that I change that.” He shrugs and leans into me, his breath scorching my lips.
“I wish you could have met her. She would have liked you.”

It’s the second time he’s saying that.

“How do you know?” I ask softly.

“I just know,” he whispers and lifts my hand to his mouth.
Slowly, he kisses my fingers, each touch sending shivers through me.

“You’re one in a million, Ava, and it was important that you
know the real me, not the one you see in the media. I hope you understand that I
needed you somewhere else. Somewhere outside of your comfort zone.” His eyes meet
mine—green as the meadows. Emeralds catching the light cast by the moon over
our heads. “I needed you to see my home. To fall in love with it.”

The moment is thick with meaning. I know letting someone
into his private space is a huge deal for him. A rock star as famous as he is
has no privacy. I understand his problem, his dilemma. He has to fight for what
normal people take for granted.

“Every day I thought I would forget you, but the next
morning broke, and then the next, and I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” he
whispers. “So, here you are.”

“Here I am,” I reply.

“Are you mad?” He lifts his hand to stroke my cheek. The
movement is gentle, the calluses on his fingers grating my skin.

“No. Not at all.” My lips tug upward, but the smile is
somewhat nostalgic. “I think you went a bit overboard, but all in all, it’s
nothing to be mad about.”

“I’m still amazed you found this place. It’s what people
would call destiny.”

“You believe in destiny?” I ask, amused.

“Yes.” He cocks his head, catching my amused expression.
“What? I believe that we earn what we reap. I believe in good sex. I believe in
instant attraction. I also believe in love at first sight. And I believe that
likes attract likes. I believe that we know when the right person comes along.
That love doesn’t need to be sought and found. It’ll find you when it finds
you.”

“You had to squeeze the sex part in,” I say, laughing. “You
do realize that has nothing to do with destiny, right?”

“Fair enough.” He helps me off the fence and kisses me
gently. “I want you to move here.”

That would require me to quit my job. Throw away all my
future opportunities.

I feel faint as it hits me. The blood drains out of my body,
and my knees turn weak until they feel like jelly.

“Please come back home with me,” Kellan whispers, his voice
slightly choked.

Back home.

Not house, but home.

Coming from him, the words sound so damn inviting, I flinch.
He says it like he means it.

Dangerous.

That’s what he is. To any woman’s heart, not just mine.

I know I’m in love with him. That’s why his words are so
damn enticing.

I look at him and realize that, ever since seeing Kellan
again, I haven’t missed my old life. I haven’t missed my job or my tiny
apartment. But after saying our goodbyes, I sure missed him.

Home isn’t a place; it’s a feeling; it’s the people who make
you feel that you belong.

I know that I belong here, with him, by his side.

But does he want me the way I want him? Is there even room
for someone like me in his life? Can I throw away my job, my life, everything
I’ve worked so hard for?

My mouth opens and closes. “You want me to quit my job?”

“I want you to move here. Live with me for a while. Enjoy
the countryside, and see what happens.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“That’s not true, Ava. I know you perfectly. I know enough to
be able to tell you that—” He stops abruptly, his expression darkening.

“What?”

He moistens his lips, taking his time. “I know enough to
tell you that I want you to stay. In my life.” He brushes a strand of hair out of
my face, curling it around his finger. “It was hard enough to get you here. I’m
not ready to let you go.”

I stare at him in silence.

My throat closes up. Everything inside me is shaking.

“I’m not sure I can,” I whisper, the voice soft, defeated.
“I have a job in the city.”

“So quit.” He sighs.

“You know I can’t.”

“If it’s about the money, I can pay you to work for me.
I—”

“No.” I shake my head. “I could never accept your money. You
know that.”

Besides, I’m pretty sure Montana has newspapers and
magazines. I could even freelance if I wanted to.

“I know,” he whispers, and we fall silent. “If you decide to
leave, I want you to know that my offer still stands. You can come back
anytime, no matter how long it takes for you to make that decision.”