Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3) (4 page)

Puzzled,
Colt watched her close the door with a strangely controlled click. It wasn’t a
slam. However, he knew by the set of Sable’s shoulders that she was upset.

Colt
walked to the window. The view was his favorite. He couldn’t get this in
Beverly Hills. Los Angeles at night. The lights, the energy. It spoke to him.
He loved to stand and observe. It looked like a huge, constantly changing mural—painted
for his pleasure.

Tonight,
he didn’t see any of it. His mind was on Sable.

No
reason for you to worry
.

How
could he not? One moment he saw laughter in her eyes. Her words teased, inviting
him in. The next, the life went out of her. Something flipped a switch inside
her, and Colt wanted to know what it was.

Did
Sable need help? And if so, how could he get her to ask?

“SABLE! THANK GOD you called.”

“How
are you, Mom?”

“Desperate.”

What
else was new
?

Sable
sat on the edge of the bed and did the only thing expected of her—she listened.
The litany of problems never changed. Not in tone or length.

How
could a woman who confined her life to eating, sleeping, and watching
television, have so many complaints? Sable could count on one hand the times
their conversation varied.

Number
one, Sable’s first date. Iris objected. Vociferously.

The
moment Sable announced that she had accepted Tanner Pearson’s invitation to the
movies, her mother never let up. Men, no matter their age, wanted one thing.
Women were weak and always gave in. The only way to avoid temptation was to
stop the madness before it began.

Her
mother’s solution? No dates. Ever. A woman was better off alone than tied to an
ungrateful, selfish man.

Sable
listened, as she always did. On Saturday night, she showered, put on her nicest
dress, and a touch of makeup. Precisely at seven o’clock, she left the house.
She half-expected her mother to follow her to Tanner’s car. It would have been
better than the warnings Iris shouted for the entire Army base to hear.

Sable
wasn’t discouraged. She dated—often. She never told her mother ahead of time.

The
next, and biggest, blowup came when Sable joined the Army. No amount of
screaming or brow beating would change her mind. By the time her mother found
out, it was a done deal.

Iris
reminded her on a regular basis that she had thrown her life away. Sable
listened, as always, in silence. Her mother did not greet the news that Sable had
decided to leave the service with the approval she expected. Why? Because a
good daughter would get a job near her mother, not across the country. A good
daughter would want to visit. A good daughter.

What
did that mean? Sable had no idea. She tried. She asked the questions she knew
her mother wanted to hear. How is your back? What did the doctor say about your
heart palpitations? Are you taking your medication? Pills Sable doubted she
needed.

It
hurt her heart. She loved her mother, but speaking with her was a chore of
gargantuan proportions. Most of the time she tuned out the words, her mind
drifting to mundane subjects like grocery lists and dentist appointments.

This
evening she thought about Colt. Something almost happened. He made her forget
herself—something she never did. Her mother’s phone calls were painful, but,
for once, her timing had been flawless. It stopped her from making a big
mistake.

An
hour later, her mother finally ran down. The brief lull allowed Sable to ask
the question she most wanted answered.

“Is
Dad there?”

“Is
he ever?” Iris reserved that shade of bitterness for her husband. “I had hoped
when we settled here in Florida that I would see more of him. What a pipe dream
that was. He’s taken up golf. Can you imagine?”

Sable
knew it wouldn’t do any good, but she had to try.

“That
sounds like something you could do together.” As far as Sable knew, the last
thing her parents did as a couple involved her conception. “A little fresh air
and sunshine? It might do you good.”

“Me?
In the sun? Hello, skin cancer. Honestly, Sable. You have no consideration for
me.”

“You’re
right. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No,
you were not.” Iris sighed. “I have to go. Wheel of Fortune is starting.”

“Mom.
Tell Dad to call me.” Sable always asked. Almost two years and still no luck.

“If
I ever see him. Take care, baby.”

“You
too.”

Sable
headed for the bathroom for a much-needed shower. Speaking with her mother wore
her out. She had completed twenty-mile hikes in full gear that left her with
more energy. Right now, nothing sounded better than hot water and blessed
silence.

She
stepped into the newly remodeled room and briefly wondered if a bathroom could
bring on a religious experience. Because Sable swore she heard angels singing.

“Hello,
gorgeous.”

Reverently,
Sable ran her hand over the rim of the beautiful jetted tub. Grinning, and
feeling her spirits rise, she turned on the taps.
Oh, blessed water pressure
.
In the blink of an eye, she was chin deep and halfway to nirvana.

Thirty
minutes of alone time, plus bubbling water that relaxed every muscle in her
body, and Sable felt like herself again.

She
quickly dried her body with what had to be the softest towel ever created.
Gray? Who owned gray towels? Colton Landis. Sable didn’t know if he chose the
dark slate color, or it was someone else’s influence, but it worked. Smiling,
she briefly considered slipping one in her suitcase before she headed home. It
wasn’t going to happen. Still, the silly thought banished the last bit of
lingering sadness.

Sable
opened her suitcases and removed a jar of body cream. It was a necessity, not a
luxury. No matter where she went, Afghanistan or Miami Beach, she always
carried lotion.

She
wasn’t a snob. High end or drugstore brand, Sable didn’t care. She learned
early on that the desert played havoc with your skin. She slathered it on her
body after every shower. The result? Soft and smooth. Not like a baby’s butt.
Like a woman.

It
didn’t take her long to transfer her things into the outrageous walk-in closet.
She didn’t know where the extra space had come from, but she swore it was twice
as large as before.

Great
for an extensive wardrobe. Something that, by no stretch of the imagination,
described Sable’s clothing. Perfectly adequate. She wouldn’t embarrass herself,
no matter the situation.

Besides,
every piece was hers. Paid for by the sweat of her brow, so to speak.

Sable
stood back and surveyed the closet. Her clothes barely filled a quarter of the
area. Her underwear and various sundry items occupied the top two drawers of
the polished mahogany bureau. Plenty of room for the shopping she wasn’t going
to do.

Sable
grinned. There would be no
Pretty Woman
moment for her—thank God.

She
glanced at her phone. Eleven-thirty? It was later than she thought, but her
stomach didn’t care what time it was. It told her the little sandwiches and
delicious cookies Callie had served with her famous lemonade were not going to
get Sable to breakfast.

The
living room was dark. However, the light that shined through the windows was
sufficient. Sable walked to the kitchen, enjoying the feel of the cool hardwood
floor under her bare feet.

The
refrigerator was new. Again, Sable wondered why Colt felt the need to swap out
something that hadn’t been more than a few years old.

To
make the place his own
.

Sable
understood the impulse. She did the same thing. Always had. Army base to Army
base. Whether she was a child trying to find a foothold in her ever-changing
universe, or an adult, looking for something she couldn’t put a name to, Sable
found little ways to personalize her space.

Sub-Zero
refrigerators and crazy-ass closets were not in her budget. However, the
principle was the same. She recognized Colt’s need to transform the loft into
his, not his brother’s, vision of home.

“Holy
crap.”

Sable’s
eyes widened. Now she knew why he needed such a big refrigerator.

Who
the hell did Colton plan on feeding?

“It’s
embarrassing.”

Sable
didn’t jump out of her skin. However, it was a near thing. Calmly, she set the
jar of fancy stuffed olives onto the shelf. Instinct had her grabbing the first
handy weapon. Good reflexes kept her from smashing it into Colt’s pretty face.

“Do
not sneak up on me.” She grabbed an apple before closing the door.

“I
didn’t sneak. See that chair?” Colt pointed to the one in the corner. “That is
where I was when you came out of your bedroom. All you had to do was look.”

“In
the shadows of a darkened room. I’m not a raccoon.”

“Point
being, I was here first.”

“The
excuse of a man who grew up with siblings.”

“It
isn’t an excuse. It’s a fact.”

“Oh,
shut up.” Sable raised the apple to her mouth and took a bite. Was there
anything better? Crisp and juicy, the sweet/tart flavor filled her mouth. “Yum.
I’ll give you this. You know how to pick your produce.”

“You’re
feeling better.” Colt handed her a paper napkin.

“A
hot bath and a little perspective.” Sable wiped the juice from her lips. “They
do wonders.”

“You
liked the tub? You’re the first to try it out.”

Sable
appreciated that Colt didn’t ask about the phone call.

“On
a scale of one to ten, I rate it a twenty. And the towels? Heaven.”

“Mom
will be happy to hear that.”

“Callie?
I figured you hired a professional decorator.”

“When
I have Mom? Not a chance.” Colt turned on the electric kettle. “She has
impeccable taste.”

“Is
she the one who stocks your refrigerator?”

“No.”
Colt rubbed his neck, his expression sheepish. “The thing is.”

“Yes?”

“People
like to do things for me.”

Sable
hid her smile. He
was
embarrassed. Interesting.

“
People
?”
She prodded.

“Fine.”
Colt pulled two mugs from the cupboard, slamming them onto the poured-concrete
counter. Why they didn’t shatter, Sable couldn’t say. He put a tea bag in each
one, then filled them with boiling water. “Women. They stock my refrigerator.
They do my laundry. They clean my house.”

“How
does that work? Please. Tell me you haven’t given a bevy of beauties access to
your home?” If that were the case, she needed to change his security
immediately. Sable made a mental note. Why take any chances? Either way, the
system needed to be updated.

“Of
course not.” Colt frowned. “My assistant, Nancy, handles letting them in and
out. She stays the entire time and never leaves anyone alone.”

Nancy
Flicker. Sable remembered the name from the list of people on whom H&E had
done extensive checks. She passed. Before Sable left Harper Falls, Alex had
cleared everyone Colt dealt with on a regular basis

“Okay.”

“Okay?
That’s it?” Colt picked up the mugs and followed her into the living room.

“What
else is there to say? It isn’t any of my business. Or it wasn’t. I’m afraid
that from now on, you’ll have to get things done the old-fashioned way. Do it
yourself. Or hire somebody I can have checked out.”

“Fine,”
Colt huffed.

“It
is the way most of the world works.”

Seeing
his expression, Sable almost felt sorry for Colt. Up until now, he lived a life
where tedious chores were miraculously done for him. She forced him to leave a
little of his Peter Pan ways behind.

“It
made my life easier.”

“You
don’t need to apologize.”

“I
wasn’t.”
Exactly
. “I wanted you to understand why I have enough food to
feed an army.”

“An
army? Speaking from experience, it’s close. But not quite.” Sable hid her grin
behind another bite of the apple. “What happens to all that food? Wild parties?
Please tell me you throw food orgies.”

“Sure.”
Relaxing into the banter, Colt sipped his tea. “Explain the difference between a
food orgy and a regular one?”

“You
gorge yourself on food and sex.”

“At
the same time.”

Sable
gave him a
well, duh
look.

“Ah.
Sorry. I have to revise my answer. No food orgies. I donate it to a homeless
shelter.”

Of
course, he does
.
Another piece to the Colton Landis puzzle. Gorgeous. Charming. Funny. She could
add good guy. His one annoying quality? He had a few, but to her consternation,
she couldn’t find anything that turned her off.

His
few flaws made him human. Sexy imperfections. She needed something, anything, to
make him less attractive.

“When
was the last time you kicked a puppy?”

“Never.
Next question.”

Sable’s
eyes narrowed. He knew what she was doing. The smile on his mouth bordered on
self-satisfied.
Okay, she might be grasping at straws, but she could
work
with that
.

Smug
didn’t look good on anybody. Though Colt almost pulled it off. Damn him.

“Regular
orgies?”

“By
your definition, how many people make up an orgy?”

“Five.”

“Not
even a hesitation?” Colt sounded impressed. “Why five?”

“Three
people? There’s a name for that. Four? Not enough. What if two couples are
having dinner. They imbibe in too much wine. Somebody pulls out a little weed.
One or two joints later, things get funky. Not an orgy. Add the plumber who
stopped by to unclog the sink? Wham, bam. That, my friend, is an orgy.”

“Impressive.”

“I
read. A lot.”

“So
you’ve never…?”

“Orgied?”

“Is
that a word?”

“If
it isn’t, it should be. And no, I never have. One on one only.”

A
few seconds ticked off the clock. Then a minute. Then two.

“Aren’t
you going to ask me?”

“I
did.”

Colt
thought about that, then nodded. “Right. I became distracted. Five? You’re
certain?”

“Five,”
Sable said emphatically. “Or more.”

“Then
no.”

“Four?”

“Nope?”

“Three?”

Sable
saw it in his eyes. A twinkle in a sea of blue. Intrigued, she waited.

“You
want me to kiss and tell?”

“Hell,
yes. Change the names to protect the not so innocent.”

Sable
prepared herself to coax the story from him, but Colt surprised her.

“It
was a dark and stormy night.”