Fame And Secrets (Lords Of Lyre Book 2) Page 11

  “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.”

  Wiping a hand across my cheek, I sniffled and fought to regain control. I found myself biting my lip so hard, I pierced the skin. “How could you? I didn’t tell you.”

  His hand trailed up and down my back in a show of support. “What’s with the sand?”

  My bottom lip trembled again. “When my mom died, my father refused to pay for a casket and a plot, much less a funeral. Chloe and I didn’t have a dime between us, so the medical examiner’s office cremated her.” My eyes blurred as I glanced at the miles of sand in front of me. “We grew up on the beaches of North Carolina. My mom was the happiest when it was just her, Chloe, and me goofing off in the sand with some stupid buckets and shovels she’d bought us behind my dad’s back. When we got the urn, Chloe and I went to Ocean Isle Beach and spread her ashes on the sand right before sunrise.” I suddenly felt embarrassed and tucked my cheek into my shoulder. “Unless you’re three miles out to sea, spreading ashes on a public beach is illegal. We had to do it before the sun rose.”

  Understanding filled his voice. “Since you’re across the country from her, you thought holding sand would be the closest you could get to her?” Remembering what I’d brought, I dragged the basket toward me. His eyes watched my every move. “Strawberries?”

  “Do you remember the story I told you in the hotel room the morning after we first…well, you know.” I felt my face flush as I recalled our frantic first night together and the painful awkwardness the following morning. He’d tried to ease my anxiety by getting me to talk about happy memories of my childhood. The problem was that there was only one. He’d been simultaneously shocked and saddened by my pathetic family life.

  His hold tightened. “Of course I remember.” He ran a hand over my swelled belly. “How could I forget?”

  “Yeah, well, like I said, it was kind of our thing. Chloe was high maintenance and demanded a lot of Mom’s attention, so I got left alone a lot. Whenever she could find time, in the summer, she’d take me to the fields to pick strawberries. Just her and me. I’d eat so many while we were there, we wouldn’t come back with much except for stained hands and clothes. I looked forward to that every year, especially after Dad started knocking me around. That first year after she died almost destroyed me. I ended up going by myself, but I never got out of the car. I sat there looking at the field, but I couldn’t make myself go.” Glancing down, I dusted sand off a finger and ran it over a strawberry. “I haven’t been since.”

  “Oh, baby…”

  I lifted my face to meet his and stared into his eyes. Locking gazes, he lowered his face and brushed his lips against mine. The kiss was lingering, yet respectful. In this world or another, he still sat in the presence of my mother. I couldn’t love him more for that.

  As he watched, I poured the strawberries into a plastic bag, then filled the basket with sand. I dug a small hole and placed the bag of fruit inside, securing it by packing mounds of sand around it. “There,” I said with finality. “We can go now.”

  He seemed confused. “You’re just going to leave it like that?”

  A smile tugged at my lips. “No.” Taking a finger, I dragged it through the sand inside of the basket and drew a crude heart. “I’m going to leave it like that.”

  He stood and pulled me to my feet. Wrapping one arm around me, he bent toward the makeshift sand bucket. He kissed his first two fingers and placed them on top of the handle, then placed his hand against his heart.

  “Julian, what are you doing?”

  “Telling your mom how much I love her daughter, and how I’ll spend my life taking care of her.”

  I fell into his arms, and he guided me away from the beach toward his car. On a whim, I glanced over my shoulder at the basket getting smaller in the distance. I didn’t know how, but I knew my mother approved.

  ***

  Neither one of us moved for what seemed like forever, our heartbeats sharing the same rhythm. Before he even opened his eyes, I lowered my mouth to his neck and placed light kisses against his skin.

  “Damn, woman.”

  “Tired, are we?” I giggled into the hollow space between his neck and collarbone.

  “I can’t fucking move.”

  An unladylike snort slipped out as I continued kissing his neck. “I have no idea why. I did all the work.”

  He awarded me with full-chested laughter. “I suppose practice makes perfect. What, no repeat performance?”

  “You, Mr. Bale, are insatiable.”

  “I could say the same thing about you,” he joked, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m kind of liking what pregnancy has done to you.”

  “Just enjoy it while it lasts. After the baby’s born, it may be the last time you get it until retirement.”

  He swiftly rolled me off my side until he had me pinned directly under him. “That shit is not funny. Don’t even joke about it.” With a glance downward, he followed my gaze to the moving flesh between us as a tiny appendage kicked us both.

  “The baby’s going to be here before we know it, Julian. God, I’m not ready to be a mom.”

  “I think it’s a little too late to worry about that, don’t you think?”

  Smirking, I wrestled my way out from underneath him and rolled over, resting my cheek against the pillow. “I mean, it all seemed so far in the future before. But now…”

  “Now, it’s right around the corner.”

  “Yeah. Our lives are going to be completely different. Well, mine will change anyway.”

  He gently turned my face toward his. “You don’t think mine will change?”

  “Julian, I meant you’ll be recording and touring. I knew that was the deal from the beginning. I’m the one who’ll be home, I’ll be up in the middle of the night, changing diapers.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m not going to be a part-time father, Phoebe.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, trying to explain away the look of hurt on his face. “I meant…what I meant was…shit.” He hadn’t thought about it…not like I had. He’d be gone a lot and he’d have to leave me alone.

  As the realization took form on his face, his features hardened. “Marry me.”

  I held up my left hand that housed the enormous diamond on my ring finger. “I am.”

  His stare encompassed his entire body, and refused to be ignored. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. The baby will be here soon. You said it yourself. We’re already engaged so what’s stopping us? Let’s do it, Phoebe. Stop rationalizing everything. Take a leap of faith and let’s bring our baby home to a real family. Marry me…today.”

  “Julian, no…” Suddenly, we’d begun a battle of wills that neither of us planned to lose.

  “It’s not a hard concept. Either you want to marry me or you don’t. You’re making me think you don’t have any intention of actually doing it.”

  He’d chosen his words carefully. Scare tactics were a last defense strategy. “That was a low blow, Julian.”

  His indignation faded as he scrubbed his face with his palms. “Phoebe, god, I don’t want to fight with you, but you’ve got to see this from my point of view. All I’m asking for is what you said you’d do the minute I put that ring on your finger.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you really want to be my wife or are you just pacifying me?”

  I held a finger up to his face. “Don’t do this to me.”

  “Then don’t do this to me! If you love me like you say you do, stop being so damn stubborn and be impulsive for once. Are you going to let whatever is scaring you dictate what you do with the rest of your life?”

  “Doesn’t it scare you at all, Julian? Even a little?”

  His voice softened. “Of course it scares me. It scares the hell out of me. The only other time I’ve been more scared was finding you on the floor of your apartment after Tanna attacked you. That’s how I know.”

  “How you know what?” I stared up at him. He seemed almost peaceful, like he’d had t
his grand epiphany in the middle of our argument.

  “I know the worst has already happened, but you came back to me.” His voice choked. “You make me whole, Phoebe. I’m alive when I’m with you and I’m dead when you’re gone. So, yeah…I know.” As the minutes passed, he swore to himself. Reaching to the floor, he pulled on his boxers, stood up, and began walking toward the bathroom. Stopping at the door, he turned to face me, his emotions stripped bare. “I love you enough to take that leap. I wish you did.”

  He closed the door behind him and turned on the shower. Crawling to the edge of the bed, I sighed and closed my eyes. It felt like my body had been through internal warfare. After thoroughly loving each other, we’d taken the honesty away and closed off emotionally yet again. It seemed to be a recurring habit that was beginning to break us down.

  I’d had enough of being broken to last me a lifetime.

  The lock gave a distinctive click as the door opened, and a blast of humid air hit me in the face. Walking to the shower, I boldly opened the door and stared at him. Lifting his head from the stream of water, he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, trying to see through the droplets. When his face registered my form, he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

  “I do love you, Julian, and you’re right, I’m scared. But I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of me. I’m scared I’m not going to be enough for you, that it’ll become routine and too normal for the life of a rock star. You’re twenty-six. You have your whole life ahead of you. I’m scared you’ll wake up one morning and realize you made a huge mistake. That would destroy me.”

  “Phoebe, that wouldn’t…”

  “Julian, don’t promise me it won’t happen. You don’t know that. Sometimes happily ever after isn’t forever. I should know, I’ve lived it my whole life.”

  He closed his fingers around mine and pulled me into the shower with him. With the water drenching me, clothes and all, he brought both hands up and cradled my face. “Okay, I won’t promise you that. I’ll promise you this: I’ll never not love you, and I’ll never not need you.”

  Water splashed around us as my voice broke through the strained silence. “Yes.”

  His jaw slackened, and his eyebrows shifted upward. “What?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Phoebe,” he pleaded. “What are you saying?”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  “Today?”

  “Today.”

  And just like that, my mom fixed everything.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Julian

  “You wear me out.” I tried hard to add a tinge of irritation to my voice but the pull on the corner of my mouth betrayed me. After our shower, we’d barely made it back to bed.

  “Well, then,” she said, flopping backward onto her pillow. “I say we just stay in bed the rest of the day and sleep.” She’d just closed her eyes when laughter rumbled through my chest. Opening one eye, she tilted her face toward me. “Uh-oh, that sounded evil. What do you have up your sleeve, Bale?”

  My grin widened as I reached for my jeans and slipped on a shirt. “Who, me? I don’t have anything up my sleeve.” I held out my arm innocently. “See? No sleeves, just a t-shirt.”

  “You’re an incurable smart-ass, you know that?”

  Standing beside the bed, I picked up a baseball hat from the floor and adjusted it backward on my head. “Of course I do. Now get ready. You take forever and we have someplace to be.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, and where might that be?”

  “You talk too much,” I scolded with a wink. “Go. You have twenty minutes.”

  “Julian, you do know it’s physically impossible for a female to get ready in less than an hour, right?” She jerked the blanket up to her ears and settled deeper into the sheets. “Besides, I have no idea how to dress, because you won’t tell me where we’re going.”

  I was buying none of her act. Besides, we were running late. What I planned had been timed to perfection. “Well, I guess you’ll set a new trend for females everywhere, won’t you? As far as how to dress—be comfortable. But nothing white…or any light color for that matter.”

  “I’m not moving until you tell me where we’re going.”

  Dropping to my knees in front of her, I placed both palms on her belly. My hands seemed drawn to it lately. “Like I said, you talk too much. Damn, can’t you women stop asking questions and just listen for a change?”

  She sat up, throwing the blanket across the bed. “You’re lucky I’m in a semi-pleasant mood, Bale. Otherwise, I’d kick your ass for that.”

  “Twenty minutes,” I called out after her as she made her way to the bathroom.

  ***

  After forty-five minutes, I started wishing for an air horn to move her ass along. Finally giving up, I threw the remote control on the coffee table and climbed the stairs to see what the hell she’d been doing.

  As I approached the bedroom, I paused. Resting a hand on the doorframe, I watched her. She pulled a blue shirt out of the dresser and turned sideways in the full-length mirror to catch a view of herself. Wrinkling her nose at her reflection, she groaned.

  “What the hell? I’m going to be a balloon with feet by the end of this.”

  “I’ve always been partial to balloons,” I said, crossing my arms and leaning my hip against the doorframe.

  Raising her chin, she glanced in the mirror, studying my reflection as I stared back at her. “Don’t patronize me, Julian. I don’t know what to do with this.” She opened her arms, letting the shirt fall to the floor, and looked down at her stomach. “This is huge. This is out of control. This is…”

  “This is beautiful.” I folded in behind her and wrapped my arms around her from the back. Nestling my chin into her shoulder, she squirmed as the scruff on my cheeks tickled her bare skin.

  We stood in silence, both of us staring into the mirror at each other’s reflection. At that moment, I realized more had been said without words than in a whole afternoon of talking. Eventually, I turned her around to face me. “Are you ready?”

  “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

  “Questions, questions—always with the questions.” I kissed the top of her head. “Stop worrying and enjoy the element of surprise.”

  She sighed and pulled the shirt over her head. “Okay, you win.”

  I cupped my hand around my ear and shook my head in mock disbelief. “What was that?”

  Another sigh. “I said you win, but don’t get used to it. The suspense is killing me, let’s go.”

  “I should write this down,” I gloated. “The day that I won a battle with Phoebe Ryan.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Julian. I said I let you win.”

  “No, you didn’t. You said I won.”

  She dropped her hands against my chest and pushed me out of the room. “Out, I have to finish getting ready.”

  I punched numbers on the keypad of my phone with annoyance, when ten minutes later, clad in a rumpled blue top and damp hair thrown carelessly on top of her head, she walked into the living room.

  Pocketing my cell phone, I stood up and faced her. “Come on. If we wait until it gets too hot, we’re screwed.”

  “Hot?” Her face fell. “Julian you didn’t say anything about hot. I hate hot. Large, round people don’t handle heat well.”

  I tightened my fingers around hers. “Princess, I love you, baby, but if you don’t shut up, I’m going to duct tape your mouth closed.”

  Her jaw dropped in shock as I let out an amused chuckle. We were already late, but nothing could tank my mood at that moment.

  Especially not while thinking about what awaited us.

  ***

  “Do you know where you’re going?” She lifted an eyebrow in question.

  I shifted a sideways glance at her. She was far more amused than I cared for. “Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t know. I’m following directions that apparently suck.”

  She unsucc
essfully attempted to hide a smirk. “Why don’t you tell me where you want to go, and I can tell you how to get there. Women are better at directions.”

  Turning up the radio, I fought a partial smile. “Nice try. No way, Phoebe. I’m surprising you if it kills me.”

  Leaning back into the seat, she adjusted the air vent to blow directly into her face. “Okay, have it your way. But I’m warning you, fifteen more minutes and I’m going to have to pee.”

  “Again?”

  “I have a person using my bladder as a trampoline, do you really want to screw with me over this?”

  Hell no, I didn’t. “Touché.”

  Two more turns and the pavement disappeared into a dirt road that twisted and turned up a hill. Whipping her head side to side, she grabbed my forearm. “Julian, unless Hollywood has taken to cow tipping, I think you made a wrong turn somewhere.”

  Stopping the car, I cut the engine. “As much as it would amuse me to see you push over a sleeping cow, that’s not why we’re here.” Getting out of the car, I walked to the other side and extended my arm. Tentatively, she placed her hand in mine. “Walk with me.”

  Steps perfectly in sync, I guided her toward a clearing at the end of the road. My smile widened and I tightened my fingers around hers.

  I knew the moment the smell hit her. She stopped mid-stride and breathed in deeply. Anticipation almost killed me as I waited until she’d taken one last inhale, and tears spilled down her cheeks. The smell was a permanent piece of her memory. It was unmistakable. It was sweet.

  It was strawberries.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Phoebe

  The smell surrounded me.

  Strawberries. Everywhere.

  We stood in front of a greenhouse door Julian opened to reveal rows of vines spilling over with the overripe fruit.

  Memories flooded my mind in still frames—pictures of my mother and an eight-year-old me, her hair reflecting in the sun, the strands of copper within the chestnut curls almost blinding me. Her laughter, high-pitched and soothing, telling me I had red handprints all over my shirt. They flashed forward to images of us sitting between the rows of plants—an overflowing bucket of berries in front of us—discussing my first broken heart and how to heal from it. Her calming voice reassured me it would mend, and each broken heart would make me stronger, until one day I’d find that one love who would shield it from shattering ever again.