Moonlight Kiss (10 page)

“Thanks,” Addison said with careful politeness. She put the bottle of beer in front of him, trying really hard not to notice the three missing buttons on his shirt and his half-exposed chest. She removed the sandwich from the wrapper and started eating without really tasting it. “Oh, this is good.” Addison nodded with fake appreciation and took another bite. “Mmm. Really good.”

Reid nodded, chewing.

Addison chatted while they ate, and after they were finished she walked him to the door. After she closed the door she tried to remember the conversation but failed. She frowned, thinking it had something to do with baseball and one-hit wonders. She really didn’t know. “Wow . . .” She put a hand to her mouth and shook her head, not really sure if she should laugh or cry.

She walked on wooden legs into the bedroom, retrieved her toiletries from her smallest suitcase, and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As she brushed her teeth she looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head, wondering what in the world had gotten into her. Was Reid right? Was she getting over her broken engagement by going wild?

She spit into the sink, rinsed her mouth, and sighed. She didn’t really know, but one thing was for certain: Rebound or not, in her twenty-eight years of living, no other kiss had ever made her melt the way Reid’s did.

After locating a soft cotton sleep shirt Addison slipped beneath the covers, hoping to fall right to sleep. Of course, when she closed her eyes all she could see was Reid’s face. Pissed, she punched the pillow, tossed and turned for a while before groaning. Sleep wasn’t going to happen. She leaned over and reached for the remote, wondering if her life could possibly get any crazier. With a sigh, she turned on the television, hoping to find a boring movie that would lull her to sleep.

When the screen came to life Addison gasped. There she was, embracing Rick Ruleman. She turned up the volume and listened with growing horror while some “reporter” speculated whether the rumor was true that Addison Monroe, daughter of finance guru Melinda Monroe, was having an affair with her ex-fiancé’s father, Rick Ruleman, promptly ending her engagement. Garret, who said he was headlining a new reality show about his life called
House Rules
, declined comment while being hounded with questions by paparazzi but pulled a sad face that hinted that the rumor was true. Rick Ruleman was unavailable for comment, as was his publicist, who was rumored to have been fired. Addison Monroe was also missing in action, leading to further speculation that she and Rick were hiding out together.

What?

Addison shook her head and sighed, wondering how Garret could be such a selfish ass. She also wondered if he had started the rumor, but, then again, she wouldn’t put is past Rick Ruleman’s camp to start something that would perpetuate the aging rock star’s bad-boy image. What better than an affair with his son’s fiancée? After all, Addison had never seen Rick without a blond bombshell on his arm, most of them young enough to be his daughter. “Disgusting,” she grumbled through gritted teeth.

Since it was still early enough in LA for her to call, Addison muted the TV, reached for her phone, and called her mother.

“Oh, honey,” her mother answered, letting Addison know that her parents had already heard the rumors. “I’m so sorry.”

Addison leaned back against the propped up pillows. “Mom, what should I do? Some sort of damage control?”

“Your father and I talked about this. We think it’s best that you keep quiet and let the rumors die down.”

Addison clutched the phone tighter. “Not likely with Garret’s stupid show. I’m sure he wants to bump up the ratings and this is the perfect vehicle.”

“Admittedly, it will take a while. Are you going to call him and tell him to back the hell off? I mean, Garret knows this isn’t true.”

“My guess is that both father and son are using this for their own purposes and I don’t think I’ll get help from either camp. And, Mom, I hope this doesn’t adversely affect your ratings. I’m so sorry about all of this,” she said, and felt tears coming on.

Her mother sighed. “Listen. The only fault you shoulder in this is being too trusting. We’ve talked to Mitch about the wedding boutique and I happen to agree that it’s a great idea. Go full steam ahead and I’ll work out the financial details.”

“Mom, I want to do this on my own, with my own money.”

She chuckled. “That’s my girl. Luckily, you’ve invested well. You’ll have to liquidate some stock and pay taxes on that as income.”

“Yes, but most likely I’ll show a loss for the first year in business and offset some of that income.”

“True, and your uncle Mitch offered the first three months lease-free.”

“No . . . no favors.”

“It’s not a favor but an incentive he would have offered to anybody. He was getting desperate to open the bridal boutique, which was supposed to be the flagship of Wedding Row. In fact, he and Nicolina were getting ready to reluctantly open it on their own and find someone to manage it if they didn’t lease it out soon. Seems like you arrived at just the right time. So, see, life has a way of working out.”

Addison managed a smile. “I just take a few crazy twists and turns along the way.”

“Keeps you on your toes,” she joked. “Listen, sweetie, you should pretty much fly under the radar there in Cricket Creek. This thing with Garret will die down. Sometimes denial after something like this only convinces some people of your guilt.”

“Wow, this sucks. I’d like to punch both of them.”

“Well, look at the bright side. You aren’t engaged to Garret any longer. Throw yourself into this boutique, Addison. As much as your father and I will miss you, maybe getting you away from this kind of thing is for the best. Who knows who you might meet in that cute little town? Someone with substance.”

“I’m off the market, Mom.”

“Like I said, throw yourself into this boutique and have fun with Mia. I love you, sweetie. This other nonsense will die down before you know it. I promise.”

Addison pressed her lips together and after clearing her throat said, “I’ll take your advice. I love you too. Give Dad a hug for me.”

“We’ll come for a visit as soon as I can get away.”

After Addison hung up the phone she sat there for a few minutes. Her mood became a strange mixture of emotions, and she put her face in her hands when she recalled grabbing Reid by his shirt. But oddly enough, Addison acknowledged that her spontaneous kiss was a step in the right direction. She was finally taking her life by the horns, doing what she wanted, moving forward, and pursuing a dream of her own.

And she wasn’t about to look back.

Lean on Me

A
T THE SOUND OF THE BELL DINGING MAGGIE LOOKED UP
from the stack of paperwork piled high on her desk. She thought perhaps it might be Addison, but a tall dark-haired man entered the office instead. Aviator sunglasses shaded his eyes and he walked with a kind of feline grace that made her sit up and take notice. He wore khaki pants and a deep green oxford shirt—nothing out of the ordinary—but he wore it well. “May I help you?”

“Maggie McMillan?” His deep, slightly raspy voice was damned sexy, and when he removed his sunglasses his light blue eyes had her forgetting to answer. She nodded absently.
Wait. What did he ask?
“I’m here to pick up the keys to the cabin down by the river.”

“Oh . . .” Maggie stood up and stuck out her hand. “Yes. Richard Rule?”

He grasped her hand and shook it firmly. “Nice to meet you, Maggie.”

Maggie smiled, trying to ignore the little tingle resulting from the handshake. “I have the keys here somewhere. The pictures I sent don’t even begin to do the cabin justice.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

Wow, he had a nice smile. “Um, as I mentioned, it’s very nicely appointed, with a big deck overlooking the river. There’s a hot tub and a gas grill.”

“Perfect.”

For a moment those eyes held her captive. For another moment she pictured him lounging in the hot tub.

“Good . . . um . . .” Flustered, Maggie looked down and found her notes. “Oh, you’ve rented it for two weeks with the option for longer?” She glanced back up at him. “Sorry for being so scatterbrained. I’m a bit swamped.”

“I’m actually here two days early, so don’t feel so unprepared. I hope I can go ahead and get settled, but if not I can stay somewhere else for a couple of days.”

Maggie nodded. “The cabin is empty so I don’t see why you can’t get in today. You can follow me out to the property, since it’s off the beaten path. I’d like to make sure everything is in order, since you’re here early.”

“I’d appreciate that. Are you free now, or should I come back later?”

“Oh no. Now is fine. I’ll just grab my car keys and you can follow me.”

“Good deal.” For some reason his smile sent another flutter through her usually steady pulse. Maggie rarely got rattled and yet she found herself looking at his left hand in search of a wedding band. There was none.

“Here we go,” Maggie said briskly, and showed him the packet. “It was right here on my desk all along.”

“Busy time for you?”

“I recently moved here from Cincinnati and opened my own agency,” she answered with a measure of pride. “I’m helping my son develop some property, along with all of the other hats I find myself wearing, including leasing several shops in town.”

He fell into step beside her. “So the answer is yes. Listen, I can probably find my way. Like I said, I’m early.”

She gave him a wave of her hand. “Oh no, I want to be sure the cabin is ready, and like I said, it is hard to find, nestled in the woods and off a couple of dirt roads. If it’s too remote for your liking I have other rentals I can put you in. I want you to be satisfied,” she added, and for some reason felt the need to blush. “With the cabin.”

“If you insist, I won’t argue,” Richard said as he held the front door open for her.

Maggie had to pass by him closely. The man smelled as good as he looked, sending her already heightened reaction to him up another notch. Except for a hint of stubble darkening his face he had a clean-cut, businessman look to him, and she guessed by the fine lines around his eyes he was somewhere around her age. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing tanned forearms suggesting time spent outdoors and, wow, she spotted an unexpected scripted tattoo peeking out from beneath the green sleeve. She wasn’t sure what it said, since he lowered his arm, but it hinted at a bad-boy edge that went with the slight rasp in his voice.
Intriguing . . .

Maggie locked the door and then gave him what she hoped was an all-business bright smile. She pointed to her silver SUV. “Follow me.”

He slipped his aviators back on. “And if I lose you?”

“I won’t let that happen,” Maggie assured him, but when he grinned she hoped that she didn’t sound like she was flirting. “But to be on the safe side,” Maggie said in a brisk tone, handing him the packet and pointing to the card stapled to the top, “here’s my number.”

“Thanks,” he said, flashing that smile that made her feel warm all over. He walked toward his rental, a sedan of some sort, but Maggie wondered if he usually drove something sleek and fast. When she slid behind the wheel in her SUV she wanted to check her appearance in the visor mirror but didn’t want him to see her primping. Maggie preferred soft pastels and floral patterns even though she usually wore dark blue and black for business. Today, however, she had opted for a buttercup yellow sweater set and cream-colored capri pants in celebration of the recent warmer weather. She did reach up and fluff her layered honey blond haircut that she’d been growing out. She’d even been thinking about going a shade lighter.

Maggie grinned. Lately her life was all about change. And now that she was in her fifties she started thinking about everything she’d put on hold while raising Tristan. Not that she regretted one single minute of putting her son first, but now that he’d found Savannah and was well on his way into adulthood, Maggie had started feeling restless. She looked in the rearview mirror and thought about her reaction to Richard Rule and wondered if it wasn’t time to jump into . . . what? Dating? How did one go about dating at this stage of the game?

“Oh, stop,” Maggie chided herself as she turned off the main road and onto a one-lane, bumpy gravel path leading to the cabin. She told herself that she needed to concentrate on her new business and not on some frivolous notion that she needed to flirt or date, for heaven’s sake. And as far as Richard Rule was concerned, the man was sexy, for sure, but just visiting.
Wait. . . .
Sexy
?
Maggie chuckled. When was the last time she’d even thought of a man in those terms? “Whew,” she breathed as she reached over and turned on the air-conditioning. “Hot flash,” she grumbled, but suddenly wondered if the heat in her face wasn’t due to the man following closely behind her. Telling herself to get a grip, she flipped on the classic country station she liked and drowned out her wayward thoughts by singing along with Waylon Jennings.

But when Maggie pulled up to the cabin she took a quick moment to swipe on some coral lipstick before getting out of her vehicle. She was just dropping the tube back into her purse when Richard approached her door and opened it for her. She stepped out, and when her wedge heel hit a jagged rock her ankle turned sideways. “Oh!” Pain shot up her leg and she braced her hand on Richard’s arm.

“Maggie, are you okay?”

“Yes, just turned my ankle a little bit. I’m okay,” she assured him, but when she put weight on it she winced.

“Let’s get you inside and see if we can round up some ice to keep the swelling down.”

Feeling silly, Maggie shook her head. “Oh, I’m sure I’m fine. I just need to walk it off.”

“This isn’t a baseball game—you don’t have to be brave,” he said with a smile. “If it hurts, let me know.”

Maggie nodded but gritted her teeth as she walked toward the front fieldstone steps, trying very hard not to limp. Tears sprang to her eyes. She wasn’t a wimp when it came to pain, but her doggone ankle throbbed. The eight or so steps leading to the wraparound porch looked like Mount Everest. She put her hand on the cool metal railing and swallowed hard.
Oh, boy . . .

“Maggie, let me carry you up.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” Maggie waved him off, but when she put her weight on her foot she gave him a sideways glance. “Maybe I could just lean on you a little?”

“Just let me pick you up.” Rick could tell that Maggie’s ankle really did hurt and even leaning on him wasn’t going to get her up the steps without putting her through more discomfort.

“No!”

“Do I have to flex a muscle?” he teased. Carrying her would be so much easier and, to be honest, he wanted to. She was just a cute little thing, all perky and smiles, but her smoky voice hinted at a sensual side beneath her prim-and-proper sweater set. He was used to women flaunting themselves but he somehow found her demure but feminine outfit way sexier. “Seriously, don’t you think I’m capable of carrying you up a few steps?”

“It’s not that—”

“Good.” Rick tossed the packet to the top of the steps, slid his arm around her waist, and scooped her up into his arms.

“Richard, put me down!”

“I will when we reach the porch. Put your arms around my neck.”

She hesitated but complied, making Rick smile. He was used to women falling all over him instead of backing away, and he found it refreshing. Challenging. Rick guessed her to be somewhere near his age, maybe a few years younger, and it was suddenly a bit of a blow to his ego when it dawned on him that she didn’t know he was Rick Ruleman, rock star, and so she wasn’t falling all over him.

Then again if Maggie was attracted to him it would be because she liked him for who he was rather than what he did for a living. Rick knew one thing:
He
was attracted to
her
.

“There. All in one piece,” Rick said when they reached the landing.

“Thank you ever so much,” she said. “But you can put me down now.”

“Do I have to?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’m trying. Is it working?”

Her answer was a throaty laugh. “You’re charming—let’s put it that way. But please put me down.”

“Okay, but keep the weight off of your foot,” he cautioned. She smelled nice, like spring flowers with some sort of sultry undertone . . . subtle but sexy.

“I promise,” she said. Her mouth was close to his ear and her warm breath brushed up against his neck. If he turned his head their mouths would be mere inches apart. Of course, kissing her would be an inappropriate, bonehead move . . . funny, but that wouldn’t have stopped Rick Ruleman.

Rick bent forward and gently allowed her feet to touch the ground. “Easy, now.” Rick kept his arm around her waist to keep her steady. When she nodded he reached down for the packet and retrieved the key. He pushed open the door before sliding his arm back around beneath her shoulders. “Lean against me,” he said, but when she did a little hopping limp he shook his head and stopped.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking it out. The pictures didn’t do this place justice. It reminds me of my . . . I mean, of a ski lodge in the mountains.” Cathedral ceilings made the cabin seem massive and a gorgeous fieldstone fireplace was the focal point of the great room.

“Well, former big leaguer Ty McKenna owns this place, but with coaching the Cougars and with his wife running a restaurant they barely have any downtime to enjoy it. Speaking of . . . Wait until you see the gourmet kitchen. It runs the width of the cabin in the back and overlooks the river.”

“I’m impressed.”

Maggie nodded. “They built this as a weekend retreat, but they’ve recently talked about listing it. Until they can make a decision they opted to rent it out.” She pointed to the left. “The master bedroom is over there with a walk-in closet and a garden bath.” She pointed upward. “The loft upstairs has three additional bedrooms and two more full baths. There’s a hot tub on a back deck that goes the entire width of the cabin and is accessible from the master bedroom.” She grimaced. “I wish I could walk around and show it all to you.”

Rick pointed to the sectional sofa in the middle of the great room. “Do you think you can make it over there?”

“Since everything seems to be in order, why don’t you just assist me back to my car?”

“Because, Maggie, I want to get some ice on it to keep the swelling down.”

“I’ll do that when I get home,” she stubbornly insisted.

“Take it from someone who has sprained ankles multiple times. Icing early makes all the difference in the world. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

Maggie closed her eyes and inhaled. “I feel like such a clumsy dork.”

Rick grinned down at her. “But a very cute clumsy dork.”

“Gee, thanks.” Maggie rolled her eyes but blushed, and before she could protest he scooped her up once more and carried her over to the sofa. “Do you always get your way?” she asked. Rick wondered if the breathless quality of her voice was from surprise or something more.

“No,” he answered quickly. Although to the rest of the world it probably seemed like he’d led a charmed life. “But indulge me, okay?” He gently set her down on the deep brown sofa and then sat by her, taking her injured foot into his hand. Cupping his hand around her heel, he shook his head. He hated that she winced when he removed her sandal. “Well, it’s swollen.” He looked up and their eyes met. “I’m sorry this happened. I should have noticed the rock.”

Maggie frowned. “Hey, in no way, shape or form is this remotely your fault.”

Rick nodded slowly. Of course he knew she was right, but he suddenly wondered how many people had been hurt by him in his lifetime. He’d been living a lie for such a long-ass time he no longer knew the truth. Without the beard, long hair, and leather, Rick felt exposed. Vulnerable.

“Seriously, Richard.” Maggie leaned forward and placed her small hand on his arm.

“I know. I just feel bad, I guess.”

“Don’t. Hey, trust me—I’m pretty darned resilient.” She pointed to her ankle and then waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be right as rain in a couple of days.”

“Maybe,” Rick said, and then gently placed a jewel-toned pillow beneath her leg, propping up her ankle. “But until then I’ll be checking up on you, so don’t even try to fight it.”

When she opened her mouth Rick raised one finger.

“No protesting! Just sit here and let me get that ice.”

“But—”

“Nope!” When he cut her off again she laughed.

“Okay . . . okay!” She lifted her hands in surrender.

“That’s more like it.” Rick could tell that Maggie wasn’t used to anyone pampering her. Well,
that
was about to change. As he walked into the amazing kitchen in search of ice he reminded himself that he was only here for a couple of weeks or so while he regrouped and attempted to approach Addison with an explanation and apology. Getting romantically involved with Maggie would be a bad idea, but they could become friends.
No harm in that, right?
Rick frowned. Had he ever been just friends with a woman before? The answer would be a big, fat no. With a sigh he decided that he’d better keep things strictly business between them. He didn’t want to lie to her about his identity, and, after all, he was here in hiding to straighten out his sorry-ass life, not complicate it. The reminder put a sudden damper on his good mood.