Just Kiss Me (22 page)

“Oh my God! Zahara West!” an excited girl squealed as she approached their table. “It
is
you!” Several more teenage girls and one boy with seriously complicated hair joined their friend. They spoke fast, as if they had to get it all out before their heads were chopped off, and Henry sat there wondering what Vivien had been about to say before they’d been interrupted by sci-fi fans who talked as if the
Raffle
films were real.

“I loooved the last Raffle movie,” the boy said. “You were—”

“—
Zahara’s Revenge
was—”

She’d said she thought about him and that he was important to her.

“—When you hotwired the calabrone intergalactic cruiser—”

He wished she wouldn’t have said she trusted him.

“—And escaped the sotarian hoard!”

They all held up one hand and said, “—Defy, rebel, triumph.”

Henry glanced from the worked-up teens in front of him to Vivien. She looked apprehensive, amused, and maybe a little terrified all at one time. If he were in Vivien’s shoes, he’d be embarrassed as hell and looking for a back exit.

“We’re members of Kings Street Cosplay—”

“—I’m Commander Trent—”

“—Vixen Star Chaser—”

“—can you say, ‘Open and free for all humans!’ just once? Or Maybe—”

“—Can we get a picture with you?”

The corners of her smile dipped a fraction. “I’d love to.”

Henry signaled the waiter and reached for his wallet. “We’re in a hurry,” he said as he handed over his card.

“Can you take our picture?” One of the Raffle fans shoved a cell phone at Henry before Vivien could even respond.

“Sure.”

They crowded around Vivien and said, “Death over sotarian tyranny!” as Henry snapped the photo. As soon as he handed back the cellphone, he signed his credit card receipt and took Vivien’s elbow in his hand. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” Her gratitude shone in her eyes, and as they walked to his car, she asked, “Are you sure you look forward to seeing me?”

“Always.” She was becoming important to him, too. Maybe too important. So much so that the next time he took her to the airport, he felt like she was taking a piece of him and leaving a hollow place in his chest. “I have to tell you something before I go,” she said as he once again unloaded the last of her suitcases from his trunk.

That didn’t sound good. He stood at the curb of Charleston International, bus fumes clogging the muggy air and horns honking up and down the departure lanes. She wasn’t just leaving a tidy hollowed-out hole in his chest. It felt more like she was ripping him apart. He looked down at the top of her straw hat and asked, “Am I going to like it?”

“I hope so.” The airport concierge took her bags and she tilted her face up to look at Henry. Her green eyes turned serious. “You know when I told you that you could see other people?”

“Yes.”

“I’m rescinding that. I don’t want you to see other women.”

“Does this mean I’m more than just your meat?”

“Yes.”

He laughed with relief. “So I should cancel the dates I have lined up while you’re gone?”

“Don’t tease.” She frowned and the corner of her mouth trembled. “I’m falling in love with you, Henry.” Then she turned on the heels of her red pumps and before she could walk away, he pulled her against his chest and dipped beneath the brim of her hat. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her, long and deep and filled with everything he felt inside. Everything that he couldn’t say. Fear and longing and maybe he was falling in love with her too. “Have a safe trip.”

She shoved sunglasses on her face and covered the deep furrow wrinkling her brow. Henry knew that look. He’d seen it before on the disappointed faces of women in his past. She’d wanted to hear him to say more. “Okay.” Then Vivien Rochet the actress pushed her lips up into a beautiful smile. “Okay.” When she turned to leave this time, he didn’t stop her.

I’m falling in love with you
. In Henry’s experience, when women said that it was more than just falling. It meant they’d already landed but were testing his feeling. It meant love. Real love. Was Vivien really in love with him? Was it real love? Was he in love with her or was it just intense lust that drove him both mad and crazy? She’d come back into his life and turned it upside down, inside out, and knocked him for a loop. He didn’t know what he felt other than deep affection, consuming passion, and a big dose of guilt. He didn’t know what to think, other than it was impossible.

Vivien Rochet lived a gigantic life. He’d downsized his. He loved his new job and the calm he’d found. His life was in Charleston, hers in Hollywood. Even if they fit together in bed, their lives were at odds. They didn’t fit together, and if he ever forgot that, he always had his mother to remind him.

“
WHEN IS VIVIEN
returning?” she asked, all stretched out like a cat on the chaise in the red parlor.

“I’m not sure,” he lied. He knew the day and hour she would return. She was currently in Tokyo, making outrageous money for shooting a Honda commercial, and would be back in Charleston in two days. He crossed his foot over one knee and picked at the crease of his khaki pants. It had been three days since he’d dropped Vivien off at the airport. Three days since she’d said she was falling in love with him. Three days for him to figure out exactly what he felt for her. Not that he’d had much to figure out. He’d fallen in love with her, too. Plain and simple, only it wasn’t so plain and simple. She’d trusted him when she shouldn’t, and that made him feel guilty as hell. Now he just had to figure out what he was going to do about it.

“You are not fooling anyone.” Nonnie reached for a cup and saucer on the table next to her. “I know you and Vivien are messing around. Did you really think you could keep it a secret?”

Since the night of her mother’s funeral, she’d spent every night with him when she was in town. He’d hardly been trying to keep it a secret. “How’s Spence?”

“Your brother is behaving badly.” She lifted a cup of tea to her lips. “He got kicked out of his country club for bringing tawdry strumpets to a black tie event.”

He hadn’t seen his brother since the night he’d talked about running off to Key West and morphing into a cross between Hemingway and Jimmy Buffet. “Spence is a big boy. He’ll figure it out.”

“He’s bringing shame and embarrassment to the family.”

“I think we’ll survive.”

“I don’t know if we’ll ever live it done. Which is why you need to watch what you do with Vivien and be on your best behavior.”

“We’re all in this mess because of
your
behavior,” he reminded her.

Her gaze narrowed as she set her teacup on the saucer on the table. “Mind your manners, Henry.”

Earlier, he’d been at a meeting with the chamber of commerce and thought he’d check up on his mother before he drove home. Kind of kill two birds with one stone. Bad idea. “I came by to see how you’re doing.” He leaned back against the crimson couch and stretched his arm out across the top. “Not to get a lecture about Vivien. She’s not your business.”

“She certainly is my business. Since the day she and Macy Jane moved into the carriage house, she’s been my business.”

“I thought you and Vivien had buried the hatchet.”

Nonnie frowned. “There was no hatchet, Henry. She was a child and it wasn’t her fault that Macy Jane was unable to take care of either one of them. I don’t have anything against Vivien. She’s turned out to be a responsible woman. Admirable, given that she used to be such a terror. Her mother was very proud of her, as she should have been.”

Henry tapped a finger on the heavily carved wooden armrest, but he didn’t say anything. Why bother? He and Spence had learned at an early age that if they disagreed with their mother, trying to talk to her was futile. So impossible, they didn’t bother. Short of tackling her and tying a gag around her mouth, she’d give her unsolicited opinion. She was his mother and he’d give her the respect of pretending to listen, then he’d do exactly as he pleased. And it pleased him to be with Vivien. It was going to please him even more when she returned to Charleston.

“Most of Macy Jane’s affairs are settled. I’m going to speak to Vivien about selling the carriage house to me. Then there will be no reason for her to return to Charleston at all.” She reached for her teacup once again. “Unless she returns to see you.” She looked across at him. “If you get my meaning.”

“I hear you.”

“You have to leave Vivien alone. You’ve kept her distracted and away from your brother long enough. The sooner she’s gone, the better.”

Not for him, and he had no intention of leaving Vivien alone. “For who, Mother?”

“All of us. I said to keep her occupied. Not sleep with the girl.”

He felt like he was sixteen again and his mother was berating him for dating “strumpets” he’d met at the Piggly Wiggly or Jean’s Sunshine Café. Perfectly nice girls who hadn’t been strumpets at all but whose last name didn’t appear in Charleston history books. And just like when he’d been sixteen, he pushed back. “We don’t get much sleep, Mother.”

“I don’t care to know the details.” Her lips pursed and her nostrils pinched. “You’re a good son, Henry. You always do what’s best for the family.”

“Yeah,” he said, the heavy burden of family responsibility weighing him down even more than usual. “You know me. No task is too distasteful.”

“No need to string Vivien along further,” she continued as if she hadn’t noticed the bitterness in his voice. “Leave her alone now so she’ll return to Hollywood where she belongs.”

A flash of blue caught his attention and he glanced at the entry hall. Vivien, stared at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks were red as if someone had slapped her. “You’re not in Japan,” came out of his mouth as his brain tried to absorb her sudden appearance.

Her gaze turned to his mother then back to him. One of her shoes fell from her hands, then she spun on her heels and disappeared, almost as if she’d never been there. Except now he could hear the heels of her bare feet echo into the silence. He wondered what she’d heard, and by the look on her face and quick retreat, he feared too much.

“Well, that’s a shame.” Nonnie confirmed his fear. “But I suppose it’s for the best. Now she can return to her home and not feel as if she has anything keeping her here.”

Henry stood and felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest. Vivien wasn’t going anywhere. Not if he had anything to say about it. “I know you love nothing better than ordering people around and congratulating yourself when you think you succeed, but I haven’t been spending time with Vivien because you commanded it.” He moved toward the doorway and said over his shoulder, “I’ve been spending as much time as possible with her because I want to, and it doesn’t have anything to do with you.” He bent at the waist and picked up Vivien’s stiletto. “She’s not going anywhere.” Not if he could help it. “I want her here with me.”

“Henry.” Nonnie swung her legs over the side of the chaise. “Vivien isn’t a suitable woman for you. I like her fine, but her place in society is beneath yours.”

“You don’t get to tell me who’s suitable or not.” He pointed his finger at her then to his chest, filling with rage. “That’s my choice to make that decision, and Vivien is my choice.” He dropped his hand to his side. “You stay out of it.”

“There is no way around the situation of her birth. You know it can’t be sugarcoated.”

God, she made it sound like it was 1850 and they were standing in the parlor of Whitley Hall. He looked over his shoulder at his mother. “Not like mine?”

“It’s not the same, Henry. You have Whitley blood.”

“Mixed with Olivier. Not even your blue blood could elevate a lowly cabinetmaker from Sangaree. Could it?”