Follow My Lead (20 page)

Right,
Darla thought. Casting magic. She knew she was good at picking talent, but she’d never done it with this much pressure, with the world—including her parents’ banker—watching. She glanced at Blake and saw him staring at her. She knew from the look on his face that something was wrong. Meagan rose to her feet. “I’ll let you get showered and dressed and see you in a few.”

Blake didn’t move as Meagan departed. He just sat there staring at her, and he wasn’t happy. In fact, she was pretty sure he was downright unhappy.

“What’s wrong?”

“What aren’t you telling me, Darla?”

20

“
W
HAT AREN’T YOU TELLING ME,
Darla?” Blake repeated.

Darla swallowed the dryness in her throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You’re too desperate to keep this job.”

“Blake,” she reasoned, “this is a big opportunity.”

“Yet you say you only wanted to be in casting, that you never wanted to be a star. You know, I’ve beat my head against the wall, wondering what’s kept me from confessing my love for you, but I know now. Something doesn’t add up, Darla.”

He didn’t love her. Or he did. She didn’t know, but she was pretty sure that if he did, he was about to talk himself out of it. She moved to the edge of the bed. “Blake. I—”

“Do you remember when you asked me who burned me?”

Her throat was dry again. “Yes.”

“Lara Wright.”

“Lara,” she repeated, feeling stunned. “Wright, as in the movie star?”

“Only, she wasn’t a movie star when we were seeing each other.”

Darla’s stomach tightened. “She used you.”

“Right.”

She sat there, unable to speak, her mind racing. If she told him about the ranch, would he think she wanted his help? God. Had she told him before, would he have thought she was after his money?

Blake made a sound of frustration at her silence and pushed off the dresser, starting toward the door. “You’re not being fair,” she shouted, confused. “You’re judging me because of her. I’m not her. I’m not.”

He didn’t turn. “I just need to think, Darla.”

His back to her felt like a slap and her eyes started to burn. “
What
is wrong with me wanting this to work out? What is wrong with me wanting to work in casting, which I love, but instead of earning pennies, I get to give my family a better life?”

He turned to her. “Darla—”

“They aren’t rich, Blake. They struggle. I have great parents. The best. I want to give back to them everything they’ve given to me.” Tears started to stream down her face. She didn’t mean to cry, but she was still sick and she was worried and overwhelmed by everything that had happened. “I’m not Lara, and if you think—”

Suddenly, he was on the bed, on his knees with her, pulling her close. “I’m sorry.” He wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, Darla. I’m not too much of a man to admit I got scared.”

“I’m not her.”

“I know.”

“No,” she said, her heart twisting. “You don’t.” She pushed out of his arms. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t with him, and she knew it. He would think she wanted his money if she told him about the ranch. He would think she was about fame if she didn’t. In the end, he would turn his back on her and she wasn’t turning her back on her family. “I think…we have to get through this season and see where we stand.”

“Are you saying we shouldn’t see each other?”

“Yes.”

* * *

H
OW
B
LAKE HAD STAYED AWAY FROM
Darla for a full week, he didn’t know. But when he walked into the Vegas wrap party on the top floor of the hotel, he had one thing in his mind. He scanned the room bustling with cast, crew and finalists, with tables of food and drink and a busy dance floor, looking for Darla. Ready to end the week of hell that was his life without Darla. A week of regretting he’d allowed the past to taint the present. A week of regretting the moment he’d walked out of her room without fighting for her. When he’d let pride and stubbornness convince him that she’d pushed him away because she didn’t think he was worth fighting for, when the truth was, he’d been an ass and he knew it.

He found her standing at a table, talking with Lana and Jason. She was wearing a shimmery silver dress that hugged the curves he’d so intimately admired, her pale, silky hair a mass of silk spraying over her bare shoulders.

Her gaze lifted, sliding over his dark suit before connecting with his, as if she had sensed his presence. And like every other time this week when they found each other in a crowd, which had been often, he felt her tension, her pain and her reserve. It was that feeling, those emotions he felt in her, which had both convinced him she really cared about him, and convinced him how royally he’d screwed up by losing her. The only thing that had made him wait this long to pursue her was his fear that if he pushed her while she was under pressure for Vegas Week, he would end up pushing her away.

He took a step toward her, only to find one of the corporate bigwigs in his path and he was forced to make small talk. By the time he pried himself from the man’s grip, Darla was gone. Blake silently cursed, and headed to the table where Lana and Jason were still talking.

Lana looked up immediately. “Oh, please tell me you two are going to make up. The rest of us are miserable with you.”

“For once I have to agree with Lana,” Jason said, clinking his beer with Lana’s and taking a swig.

“Where is she?”

“Hiding in the bathroom,” Lana said.

Blake was walking before she even finished her sentence. Blake arrived at the bathroom as one of the camera ladies came out. She nodded at him, as if he’d asked a question, clearly one of the many cast and crew rooting for him and Darla to make up. “She’s alone,” the woman said. “I’ll watch the door.”

Blake didn’t need any further encouragement. He shoved open the door and went inside, rounding a long hall to find Darla sitting in a lounge chair with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. Her head jerked up a moment before she came to her feet.

“What are you doing in here?” she demanded.

“I love you more than you can possibly imagine.”

“What?” she gasped.

“I love you, Darla. I’ve loved you since the moment you fell off of your shoe and into my arms and I’m miserable without you.”

Her eyes clouded over and she hugged herself. “It took you a week to decide this?”

“No, honey,” he said. “I waited a week to tell you because I want us to get the hell out of here so I can finally spend some private time proving it to you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t do this, Blake. The timing is wrong.” Her eyes were dark, etched with shadows. “I have reasons to need this job and you have reasons to resent that I do.”

“Darla, no. I was an idiot. I—”

“Blake,” the camera lady yelled from the door. “We have a line out here. Hurry.”

“Coming,” he called over his shoulder. He searched Darla’s face and he saw the decision there, the stubborn decision that said he wasn’t getting past no, not without a fight. “You’re on for tomorrow’s charity bull-riding event. Nine o’clock at the Wind Walker Hotel. Don’t be late.”

Her eyes went wide. “I’m what? We never confirmed I was doing that. We haven’t talked about it for weeks.”

He pulled her close and kissed her, slid his tongue past her teeth for a deep, sweet taste. “We just did.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek and turned away, promising himself it would be the last time he left her like this.

Blake exited the bathroom to find five women waiting in a line, one of whom was Meagan, who smiled as he walked by, but he barely saw her. He was thinking of Darla’s words.
It took you a week to decide this?
Damn it to hell. He’d gambled on timing working in his favor, when instead, it might have been the final nail in his coffin, the fatal flaw that cost him the woman he loved.

* * *

R
ELIVING
B
LAKE’S WORDS
—and his kiss—had kept Darla up all night. By seven, she couldn’t take it anymore, so she showered and dressed in her best Wranglers, cowboy boots and pink Western shirt. She told herself she was early to the Wind Walker Hotel because she needed to know what her day consisted of, so she could be prepared, when she knew deep down she wanted to see Blake. She was miserable without him but she couldn’t see how they could get past his betrayal, and what she still hadn’t confided in him.

She checked into the hotel and soon entered the typical high-end Vegas room, which had a large plush bed and some sort of floral design theme going on with pictures and drapes. In the middle of the mattress was an envelope with her name on it, and she knew the writing was Blake’s. Beside it was an event T-shirt she assumed she was supposed to wear. Her heart thundered in her chest as she sat down and opened the envelope.

Inside was a printed formal event agenda and a folded card. She opened the card and a room key fell out. “Room 1212. That’s where I’m at and where I want you to be. With me.” Darla pressed the key to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. He was letting her choose, as he always had. And she had more than a room choice to make. She’d thought long and hard about this. She had two options. Choose to weather this storm with the bank on her own, without Blake in her life. Or choose to tell Blake what was going on and risk being hurt again. There was no in between. Until now, it had never seemed the right time. But now, it was time.

If he loved her, if she loved him, he should be a part of what she had going on. She wanted to tell him everything, to believe he really could see beyond his past, beyond Lara Wright, to
her.
She thought of being on that plane, so sick she thought she’d been dying, and how Blake had held her, how he’d whispered she was beautiful when she’d been a wreck, how amazing she was when she’d felt things were out of control.

Darla scanned the agenda, trying to figure out where Blake would be right now, and it looked like he was doing an opening ceremony at eight. That meant he’d be downstairs, already working. Damn. She was going to go all day with this need to talk to him burning inside her.

Hoping to get lucky, she dialed room 1212. Blake didn’t answer. She found her cell phone and called him. He answered on the second ring. “Darla—”

“Blake.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m here. In my room.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Listen, I really need to talk to you and I know you’re busy and I can’t, we can’t, but—”

“We will. I promise. My father is with me. Come meet him.” Someone said something in the background. “He says he’ll take care of you during the opening ceremonies while I film, and tell you all my dirty little secrets.”

Secrets. She swallowed hard. “I’ll be right down.”

He told her the location and then softened his voice. “I mean it, Darla. I’m really glad you’re here.” And then the line went dead.

* * *

D
ARLA EXITED THE ELEVATOR
and headed toward the busy entrance to the Mountainscape Entertainment Center, which was basically an indoor amusement park and the place where today’s rodeo events were being held.

Her heart pounded in her chest as Blake and his father, Nick Nelson, came into view. Their resemblance to one another was obvious. In fact, they were so remarkably alike—both tall, lean and good-looking, both in jeans and their event T-shirts—that it was quite something. And if Blake’s father was a testament to how Blake was going to age, Darla wasn’t complaining. The man was in great physical shape and wore his gray hair and wrinkles with charm and appeal one couldn’t help but admire. But it was Blake she focused on, Blake who stole her breath with his dark good looks. Blake who made her heart squeeze and her body ache. Blake who she loved with all of her heart.

In an instant, the two men spotted her. She opened her mouth to greet Blake’s father, when Blake pulled her close and kissed her solidly on the lips. He released her and said, “Good morning!”

Her hand sizzled where it rested on his chest. “Good morning.”

Nick cleared his throat. “That’s certainly a good way to wake up if I ever saw one.”

Darla blushed and Blake slid his arm over her shoulder so she could face his father. “Darla, meet my father, Nick Nelson.”

Darla smiled and accepted his hand. “Any woman who can wrangle this bullheaded man here is someone I want to spend some time with. And I hear you can ride a mechanical bull.”

Darla’s cheeks heated at the innuendo—by Blake’s father, of all people. “I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting day.”

Blake snorted. “You have no idea.” Someone called his name from behind. “Gotta run.” He pointed at his father. “Behave.” He glanced at Darla. “And don’t believe anything he says.”

* * *

D
ARLA SAT IN THE BLEACHERS
while clowns entertained the crowd and Blake’s father entertained her with truly hilarious Blake stories.

“He can’t ride the mechanical bull, you know.”

“Really? He told me he could.”

“You don’t see him on the agenda to ride today, now, do you?”

“Actually, I don’t,” she said. “I just assumed he was busy.”

Nick snorted. “His mother rides better than him, though that isn’t really a good comparison. His mother is pretty damn good. I wish she could have been here today, but her and her sister are doing a girls’ weekend. She does a lot of charity work.”

“What kind of charities?”

“She’s big into animal rescue.”

“My parents are, as well. They have a shelter at their ranch in Colorado. That’s actually the charity I want to ride for today.”

“Well, isn’t that something,” he said. “You know, we’re looking for a place big enough to house some retired rodeo animals until I can find a permanent location. Your parents have any room at their place? There would be a generous donation to the charity, of course.”

Darla swallowed hard. “They have the ranch up for sale right now. So yes, they have room, but I think it would be a month or so before they decide if they are staying or not.”