Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3) (12 page)

It
couldn’t be called smooth or perfectly choreographed. It was raw and intense.
Wild. Heart-stopping. And infinitely satisfying.

Sable
had no words. Neither did Colt. She slid into his arms. Boneless. Spent. She
had just enough energy to brush his chest with her lips before she collapsed.

Colt’s
breathing slowly returned to normal. Sable rested her head on his chest. With
no wasted movements, he disposed of the condom and pulled the covers over them.
In seconds, he drifted off to sleep, but not before he settled Sable into his
arms.

Out
of habit, Sable checked the clock. The alarm was set to go off in less than two
hours. Christ. She didn’t know how Colt would be able to function on so little
sleep. He would be dragging by mid-day. But she would bet almost anything he
wouldn’t have a single regret.

Sable
felt the same. What would be the point? From day one, this had been inevitable.
Fighting it was counterproductive. Now, they could enjoy each other. They could
play out the attraction and when her job was finished, part as friends.

Sable
ignored the twinge in the region of her heart. Colt had no room in his life for
anything permanent—nor did she. They
would
say goodbye. There would be
no happily ever after Hollywood finale.

The
ending of this story had already been written.

COLT WASN’T FOND of days off. When he started a film, he liked
to stay immersed in the story and the character. Colt believed in working hard
and playing when the work was done. He had plenty of time to rest between projects.
As the saying went, he could sleep when he was dead.

However,
now there was Sable. She made the thought of a day off appealing. When an
unexpected rainstorm washed out the day’s shoot, Colt didn’t curse as he
normally would have. He looked up at the sky and thanked the weather Gods.

Instead
of fake canoodling, he planned on staying in bed all day. With Sable.

“You’ll
get tired of me.”

“Not
going to happen.”

Colt
grabbed Sable’s hand, preventing her from getting out of bed. It was early.
Seven o’clock. Normally they would be at the set. As they were heading out the
door, Colt received the surprising news. They were washed out for the day.

It
took another hour for the rain to hit downtown Los Angeles. By then, he and
Sable were resting up from a particularly vigorous round of sex.

“An
entire day? Your dick will be crying for mercy.”

“My
dick is a big boy.”

“I’ll
say.” Sable waggled her eyebrows.

“Thank
you. But you didn’t let me finish. Big boys don’t cry. A day? I can do that
standing on my head, with my hands tied behind my back.”

“I
told you. I’m not into ropes.”

“Bet
I could change your mind.”

Sable
appeared to be considering the idea. Colt wasn’t surprised when she shook her
head.

“Nope.
But if you stand on your head, I’ll give you a whirl.”

“Why
don’t we save the acrobatics for another day.” Colt nuzzled her warm, soft
neck. “Today, all I want is some good old-fashioned sex.”

“I
need food.”

“The
fridge is empty.”

“Right.”
Sable sighed. “We need to hit the grocery store. Now that your groupies aren’t
making their weekly pilgrimage, the coffers are getting bare.”

Colt
put the word out that he no longer required food deliveries. Or cleaning
services. Or laundry pick-up. After a week, he realized how much he had come to
depend on those things
magically
getting done. He would leave the house,
go to work, and when he returned, there was fresh food to eat, his bathroom
sparkled, and his underwear was neatly folded and put away.

For
years, his brothers teased him about his harem of household helpers. Colt
accepted the ribbing with careless good grace. He didn’t think twice about the
arrogance it took to allow these things to be done on his behalf. He
appreciated it. He made sure his assistant sent each woman flowers once a month
and gave them tickets to his movie premieres.

And
then what? The names and faces changed. For almost six years, a club had
existed for the sole purpose of making Colton Landis’ life easier. Now, it was
over. He hoped it ended without hard feelings, but he didn’t know. Because he didn’t
want to.

The
truth wasn’t pretty, but Colt didn’t mind looking it straight in the face. If
it weren’t for Sable, he didn’t know if it ever would have stopped. Colt
chuckled. He imagined himself at ninety, still being cared for by a bevy of…
Seventy-year-olds?

“What’s
so funny?”

“Do
you think my fans will age as I do?”

“Your
fans will get older. And younger.” Sable understood the way the world worked. “Look
at your father. He’s a fox. Unless you let yourself go to pot, women will drop
at your feet until the day you die.”

“Either
way, I need a housekeeper. And a laundry service. And a place that delivers
groceries.”

Sable
rolled out of bed.

“Hey,”
he protested.

“Unless
you want me to tinkle on your designer sheets, I need to go to the bathroom.
While I’m gone, order some takeout.”

“What
are you in the mood for?”

“Chinese?
No, a juicy hamburger. Check that. Macaroni and cheese.” Sable paused to pull
on Colt’s t-shirt. “You decide. When I’m hungry, everything sounds good.”

“Why
do you bother with clothes?” he called out.

“Habit.
For years, I lived around thousands of men. I forget I don’t need to cover up
for one.”

Good
answer
, Colt
decided. They hadn’t shared a bedroom for very long. He couldn’t expect her to
get used to him in only a week. But she would. Colt was determined to have her
walking around, naked as a jaybird, in no time at all.

It
had been a good week. Better than good. After that first night, there was no
question of going back. Sable kept her things in the other bedroom, but she
slept with him.

Sable
was slowly adjusting. He was over the moon.

The
lovely Sable. His to play with anytime he wanted. And Colt wanted to play
often. Luckily for him, so did she.

They
played in bed. In the shower. On the sofa. The cement counter in the kitchen
turned out to be the perfect place for a little post-breakfast fun. For the
first time since he had moved here, Colt made regular use of the hidden window
blinds. The last thing he needed was some industrious member of the paparazzi
taking pictures of Sable and him as they enjoyed the benefits of living with his
lover twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. At one time, Colt wouldn’t
have cared. But this was different. Sable was different.

Colt
frowned. There it was again. Why did he keep thinking that way? Yes, Sable wasn’t
like the other women he had known. So what? What did it mean? Colt didn’t want
to worry about it. He had a day of nothing but Sable ahead of him. He wasn’t
going to let unsettling thoughts ruin their fun.

Food.
He’d promised Sable something to eat. Colt picked up his phone, but before he
could scroll through his list of go-to delivery places, it rang.

Wyatt.

“Hey.
What’s up?” Colt asked. He turned on the speaker phone and began scrolling.
Instead of picking one thing, he decided to order a variety. “That place with
the amazing egg rolls? Do they deliver?”

“Yes.
But forget it. You have the day off and Mom wants the whole gang there for
lunch.”

“How
did you know I wasn’t working?”

“I’m
a producer. I know everything.”

Wyatt’s
explanation was simple and true. Not much happened on a Landis production
without his brother knowing about it. Usually seconds after the fact.

“Come
right away. Lorena made guacamole. Once Nate arrives, there’s no guarantee
anyone else will get any.”

He
did love Lorena’s guacamole. There was no chance of leftovers. Not with Nate,
the human vacuum cleaner around. “I’ve already made plans.”

“Cancel
them.”

“But—”

“Mom
wants you here. Need I say more?”

Colt
hesitated. No one said no to Callie Flynn. Especially her sons. But he was
tempted. He didn’t know how many opportunities he would have to be alone with
Sable for an entire day.

“You
can’t get out of it, so don’t bother trying.”

“I
didn’t say anything.” Damn. It wasn’t easy to get anything past someone who had
known him all his life.

“Who
knows the way your mind works better than I do?”

“We’ll
be there.” Colt sighed. The best-laid plans, etc. “And Wyatt? Just so you know?
I’m giving you the finger.”

Wyatt
ignored the verbal jab. “Your beautiful bodyguard must be sick of you by now.
She can use a change of scenery.”

Sable.
Well, shit. The second they walked in the door, everyone would know things had
changed. After the dire warning to keep his dick to himself, his father wouldn’t
simply call him into his office. He would give him
the look
.

Caleb
Landis never raised a hand to his sons. He could metaphorically flail off a
layer of skin with one laser-sharp, blue-eyed gaze. His didn’t use it often.
Which made it all the more effective.

He
loved his family. But come on. He wasn’t a child. Neither was Sable. What two
consenting adults did in private was nobody else’s business. And it was a damn
good thing they didn’t know. Some of the things he and Sable had done were
likely illegal in some states.

“That’s
quite a grin. I didn’t know calling for takeout was so entertaining. What did
you decide on?”

Sable
hopped onto the bed and into his arms. Colt wrapped his arms around her,
breathing in her scent. A blend of his soap and her shampoo. And something he
couldn’t put his finger on but it drove him crazy. He would forever call it
simply, Sable.

“You’ll
love the food. But we won’t be eating in.”

“No?”
Sable took off his shirt. “Naked Lunch would take on a whole new meaning.”

How
could he resist a woman who was so beautifully natural and had read William S.
Burroughs? He never should have answered the phone. Next time he would know
better.

“We’ve
been summoned to the old homestead.”

“Your
parents’ house?” Sable scrambled off the bed, searching for his t-shirt.

“They
can’t see us, Sable.”

“You
can laugh. My job is to watch your back, not suck your— “

“Hey.”
Colt put a hand over mouth. “One is your job. The other is between us. Never
insinuate otherwise.”

“I
hope your family feels the same way.”

“They
like you. If anyone gets some flack, it will be me.”

“Yes.
They like me. But they love you. I’m replaceable.”

Colt
stopped himself from saying the first thing that popped into his head.

Replaceable?
Not as far as I’m concerned
.

“Let’s
hit the shower.”

Colt
grabbed Sable’s hand. Stray thoughts had a way of freaking him out. He couldn’t
think of a better way to clear his head than hot, steamy, shower sex. With
Sable.

“MORE FRIED CHICKEN, Sable?”

“Yes,
please.” Sable took the plate from Garrett. “This has the Colonel beat by a
mile.”

“Wait
until you try Lorena’s pizza. She could start her own restaurant.”

“Shh.”
Nate piled his plate with a second helping of mashed potatoes. “Where would I
get my enchilada fix?”

“I’ll
teach Paige.” The longtime Landis family cook smiled at Nate. She had a basket
filled with hot rolls just out of the oven.

“I
wouldn’t dare try, Lorena. Your food is legendary. When I spoke with Dad last
week, he was still raving about your cooking. I think he and Irene are flying
in from Montana next month just for your waffles.”

“Sable.”
Jade took a roll and slathered it with butter. “I’ve been working on those
self-defense moves you showed me, but I can’t seem to get them right. Will you
give me a refresher course after lunch?”

“I’d
like to get in on that,” Paige said.

“Me
too.”

“You?”
Sable looked at Nate in surprise. “Why?”

“My
ego is still bruised from that beat down you gave me. I want a rematch.”

“Give
it a rest.” Garrett winked at Sable. “Do you want Paige to witness a repeat of
your humiliation?”

“My
fiancée loves me.”

“I
do,” Paige assured Nate. “And I won’t think any less of you when Sable kicks
your ass.”

Colt
smiled as Sable easily fell in with his family’s banter. It helped that they
already knew each other. But it was more than that. Sable was a warm, open
person. She liked people and they liked her. His family welcomed everyone with
open arms. Garrett and Nate had the good sense to fall in love with intelligent
women with big hearts. It made the meal, and every gathering, a joy to attend.

“Who
wants dessert?” Lorena called from the kitchen.

“Who
doesn’t?” Nate responded.

Laughter
filled the room. Colt looked from smiling face to smiling face. A man would be
a fool to take this for granted, and one could call him many things. Arrogant.
Pampered. A bit spoiled. Definitely catered to. But he was not a fool. Above
everything else. The money. The fame. The multitude of perks that came with his
life. Most of all, he was a lucky son of a bitch.

“Colton.”

Over
the din, his mother’s whispered word caught Colt’s attention. Smiling, he
leaned closer. Good Lord, she was beautiful. In her fifties, she looked twenty
years younger. Good genes and a happy life. According to Callie, that was the
secret. She passed those genes to him. That and a basically sunny personality.
They expected the best from the world.

However,
cross them, or someone they loved, and the rose-colored glasses came off. They
could be vicious if pushed. Just ask the small list of people stupid enough to
push once too often.

“Are
you getting younger?” he asked. Taking her chin between his fingers, he turned
her head from one side to the other. “Is there a portrait in the attic that I
don’t know about?”

“Silly
boy.” Callie’s famous gray eyes sparkled. “All women should have sons. You see
us as we were when you were little boys. Forever young.”

“We
love you.
And
you never age.” Colt kissed her cheek. “Tell me what’s
worrying you.”

“You
always know, don’t you?”

“Sometimes
I think we share a brain.”

“Please,
spare me that. I would be a wrinkled crone if I knew everything you got up to.”

“Probably.”

“Mmm.
For instance. Sable?”

“Is
that what this is about?” Colt rubbed a hand over his face. “I wondered when
someone would say something, but I expected it to be Dad or Wyatt.”

“I
imagine your father will have a few words with you before you leave. I want to
talk to you about Wyatt. Have you spoken to him lately?”

Colt
watched as her eyes darkened. There was no mistaking the sign. Callie was
worried about her oldest son.

“He
called this morning. He sounded fine.”

Colt
glanced at his brother. Then he looked. Really looked. Wyatt seemed a bit
quiet. Almost removed from everyone. His eyes seemed tired—weary. And his hands
were restless, arranging his silverware and fussing with his napkin.