Heart of Steele (7 page)

Picking up the wine glasses, she paused. “How
did you know I wanted the peach bedroom?”

The big shower, the fancy bed, the soft
colors. “Just a good guess.” He gestured down the hall. “I set your
bag in there, and I had the caretaker’s wife put the clothes and
other...stuff...in the dresser for you.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment. “Thank
you.” She went up on her toes and kissed him. “For everything.
You’re really a surprise.” Turning, she walked to the kitchen, set
down the wine glasses, and went up the stairs. A minute later, her
door closed.

“Jesus. What the hell am I doing?”

Tracy should have helped with the dishes,
would have if she hadn’t needed to be alone. Desperately.

The reminders of her childhood coupled with
Steele’s kind understanding and gentle teasing, had her breath
clogging in her throat. Leaning back against the closed bedroom
door, she let a sob loose, and it echoed off the windows.

How could she have hit such a nice man? Tears
streamed and her nose plugged. On her bed, her red bag stood with
those boots sticking out of it. Next to it, her purse lay on its
side. How had he known she’d like this room? He was funny and sweet
and too damn serious all at the same time.

Grabbing the tissue box, she lay on the far
side of the bed facing the windows, looking out at the serene
view.

She’d held back from Steele. Didn’t tell him
more than he needed to know. Their relationship—affair—was going to
last until they walked out the cabin door to head back to LA. She
didn’t need to unload her sad story on him.

Her brother. Yes, he was in Montana. In the
penitentiary. She wished he would stay there forever, but his
parole hearing was coming up. Digging in her purse, she pulled out
her phone. The call and text she’d gotten from Reno just after
she’d hit Steele, remained unanswered. She sent a quick text to her
friend, telling her she’d call in the morning. Tracy didn’t have
the energy right now.

She checked the time. Her mother would be at
work now, so she couldn’t call her. The night shift at the grocery
store.

One day, Tracy would make enough to support
her mother. But not her deadbeat brother. The bastard sponged off
their mom, stole from her sometimes, and now wanted to live with
her when he got out of prison. It was not going to happen, and
she’d make sure of that.

Donny was four years older than her, and
hadn’t held a job for more than a few months at a time.

Tracy tucked her knees up and wrapped her
arms around her legs. When they were kids, Mom worked nights, Dad
spent his evenings drunk or passed out on whatever cheap booze he
got his hands on, and Donny was in charge. And he’d let her know
who was boss. With his fists.

An icy chill raced through her. Was that why
she’d hit Steele? Was she turning into a monster? During the
therapy sessions she’d received free during college, she’d been
assured that she’d never become what her brother had been. Were
they wrong?

She flexed her right hand and let the pain in
her knuckles start her relaxation and self-hypnosis routine.
“Steele. I’m so sorry.” Another wave of tears rushed to her eyes.
She would take advantage of their days together, make memories that
she’d keep forever, then say goodbye and find a way to forget him.
He deserved better than her.

****

Steele put away the remaining pizza; some in
the fridge, some in his belly. Tracy had seemed unsteady, like
there was something hanging over her, ready to drop and smother
her. He finished cleaning the kitchen and re-corked the wine. She
needed to be alone tonight, but he’d work on getting her to open up
over the next few days.

Turning off the lights, he left the kitchen
and walked down the hall to his cave. The lights were still on and
he filled a frozen mug with tap beer. Plopping in his recliner, he
sat silently, hoping to hear her, but the walls and floors were too
solid. What was she doing?

“Aw hell.” He pulled out his phone. No new
incoming, but he’d never replied to Chase. He dialed his friend’s
number.

“Hey. What the hell is goin’ on there in
Hollywood?”

“Yeah. Shit happened today.” Steele felt
foolish, and he hated that feeling.

“Forgot to duck?” Chase sounded like he was
walking.

“You busy, or can you talk?”

“Hang on.” He spoke, probably to Reno. “Okay.
I’m out on the porch.” His voice was louder.

“Congratulations, man. What a shock.”

Chase laughed. “You could call it that.” He
breathed a couple times. “She’s beautiful. I can’t explain it. I’m
still high on it.”

Steele’s own breath caught at the emotion in
Chase’s voice. “I saw her picture. She don’t look much like
you.”

“Ha. She’s lucky, there.” He was quiet for a
moment. “I don’t deserve this much happiness.”

“The hell you don’t.” Chase had always had
self-image issues. “You deserve Reno and Joy and a lifetime of
happiness. Probably more than anyone I know.”

“I hear ya, but it’s still new and scary.”
Two thumps sounded, as if Chase had propped his booted feet up on
the railing. “Tell me what’s happening with you? Did she break your
face? Will you ever croak out that noise you call
singing
again?”

Steele took a couple cold swallows. “Not much
damage.” Except to his phone. And his pride. “I was talking
to...no, arguing with Dad. I said some things that I shouldn’t
have. Tracy thought I was on the phone with you.”

“You were talking about Ryder I bet, huh?”
Chase and Reno were the only people outside of Steele’s family who
knew about his illegitimate half-brother. And sharp as he was,
Chase probably figured out Steele was using the word
bastard
to refer to Ryder.

“Yep. Right there on the soundstage. Tracy
yelled for a while, I thought she was playing around, and I smiled
at her.”

“Uh oh, that shit-eatin’ grin you call a
smile? No wonder she hauled off and let you have one.”

Steele prodded his lip with one finger.
“Pretty hard, too. So now, we’re up in Big Bear until I hear
from—”

“Whoa, there.” Chase laughed. “You’re up at
your cabin, in the middle of God’s country, alone with the woman
you’ve been wet-dreaming about for a year?”

“That just about sums it up.” That, plus a
few extra emotions that didn’t fit into pure physical, and spilled
over into romantic. “My agent and PR people told us to get out of
town until we can come up with a good spin on the whole thing.”

“And? Are you going to do more than enjoy the
scenery?”

“I hope so.” Tracy seemed to want him as much
as he wanted her. But after their talk tonight, things might change
overnight.

The tiny cry of a baby filtered through the
phone.

“You need to go?”

“Not yet.” He laughed. “Evidently, only
mommies have the right feeding equipment. Daddies have the right
stuff for diaper changin’, though.”

“Shit, Chase. You’re a daddy.” Steele
couldn’t wait for the day when he’d be one, too.

“I gotta keep reminding myself.”

“Good song-writing material.”

Chase snorted. “Your situation, too.” He
cleared his throat. “Tracy’s a good friend of Reno.” His voice went
low and quiet. “Don’t do anything that’ll make Reno tell me to kick
your ass.”

His friend was right. Steele needed to let
Tracy know that if things worked out between them, this wasn’t
going to be a quick thing. He wanted to see if it could go
somewhere. “I’m not plannin’ on it.” Funny how Steele’s Texas twang
came back whenever he talked to Chase. LA could suck it out of him
faster than a roadrunner on hot tar. “Damn, it’s good to talk to
you.”

“Glad you called. We both had a shocker of a
day.”

He stood and walked to the glass wall. “Tell
Reno I’m happy for her. Happy for the three of you.”

“Thanks, buddy. And, uh, good luck
there.”

“I could use some.”

They hung up and Steele stood, staring out at
the night. Why did his shock have to come with a viral video and
tons of emotional shit? When was he going to get what he really
wanted from life? “More beer.” Steele grabbed his guitar, a
music-lined notepad and pencil, and sat at the bar to refill his
beer. May as well turn all this gut-wrenching emotion into a
song.

****

Bright, bright light seeped through Tracy’s
closed eyelids. She squinted at the sun shining in her window.
She’d fallen asleep on top of the covers, and hadn’t moved all
night. Stretching, she stood and looked out at the lake. The sun
had just poked above the mountains and even with the window tinting
growing progressively darker by the second, it was the most amazing
thing she’d ever seen.

Snowy ski slopes, cabins tucked into the
wooded areas. She looked for the dam, but didn’t spot it. If she
lived here, she’d put a porch along the front of the whole
building, and add French doors to get out onto it.

Of course, Steele wouldn’t. Someone could
spot him from below with a telescope. She’d do it anyway, and make
him wear a disguise. Like a gray wig, mustache, and buckteeth.
Rolling her eyes, she padded into the bathroom and opened the
toothbrush package, plopped on toothpaste, and started
scrubbing.

That was her, always pretending. Drifting
away from real life to live in a world of her own creation. Steele
in a disguise? Not very likely.

She used the hairbrush, and decided to wait
to shower. Coffee first.

Cracking open her door, she listened for a
few seconds. No sounds. When she stepped out into the hallway, the
smell of freshly-brewed java snuck into her nostrils, making her
mouth water. The smell disappeared as she walked toward the
kitchen. Turning, she headed back toward the open double-doors to
Steele’s bedroom. The scent grew stronger.

Stepping into his space, her eyes landed on
his bed. The brown quilt was thrown back, and cream-colored sheets
looked all rumpled. Sexy. She inhaled the manly scent of the room;
a combination of his designer sandalwood cologne, and rough, musky
man.

“You can come all the way in.” He sat on one
end of the sectional sofa, a guitar in his lap, a notebook on the
cushion next to him. He gestured toward a small kitchen area tucked
into a closet space. “Coffee. Help yourself. There’s cereal, yogurt
and fruit in the fridge.” The closet doors had been closed
yesterday, and she hadn’t wanted to peek into his private
space.

Beside the refrigerator, a microwave, a
dishwasher, and sink, lined the wall. All nicer than the ones in
her apartment.

“Thanks. Just coffee for now.” She found a
cup and poured it full, then carried the pot to where he sat. “Can
I warm you up?” A phrase from her days as a waitress.

His eyes darkened and his mouth opened.

“Your coffee, Mr. McLairn.”

A half-grin curved his lips and he held out
his cup. “Please.”

She poured and walked back to the little
kitchen, her toes curling into the thick carpet. “I can’t believe
you have a kitchen in your bedroom.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Laughing, Tracy strolled to the small window
overlooking the pool. “Some of us don’t, no. Shocking, isn’t
it?”

“It is.” He set down his guitar and coffee
cup and joined her, looking down into the big space. “We’ll have to
do something about that. Maybe a fundraiser?”

She smiled at him. “You do a lot of those.
You’re always championing a cause.”

He stared out. “It’s the least I can do.”
Taking her hand, his demeanor changed dramatically as his face lit,
making him look ten years younger. “C’mon. I’ve got a surprise for
you.”

She held her cup tightly and jogged after
him. Into the bathroom. “A surprise? In here?”

He stopped at the bathtub. “Ready to soak?”
He turned on the faucets and a river of water rushed into the
sparkling tub. Picking up one of the seven brightly colored
bottles, he read, “Grapefruit mango?” His face twisted as he looked
at her.

She set her cup in a holder on the corner of
the tub. “Still not hungry.” The purple bottle next to her cup said
lilac
. “This one.” Reaching for it, she stopped. “Unless
you...” Did he plan to bathe with her?

“No.” He pulled her close, sliding his hands
down her back, creating wild tingles along her skin. “This is all
you. Just relax and enjoy it.”

She lifted onto her toes and pressed a soft
kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

His eyelids lowered and he stared at her.
“You’re making me change my mind.”

Laying her palm on his chest, she let his
warmth seep into her skin. “It’ll happen, Steele.” Heat bloomed in
her cheeks. “We both want this.” She stepped back and bit her lip.
“But we can’t let all that water go to waste.” The tub was over
half full. Turning she ran out of the room. “Let me grab my
things.”

His laughter followed her to her room.

Twenty minutes later, Tracy’s world was wet,
steamy, and lilac-scented. She’d gone for bubbles instead of the
whirlpool jets, and a thick layer covered the water. Her fingers
looked like pale prunes. She’d stepped into the shower first,
washing her hair and shaving everything. Everything. Piling her
hair on her head, she’d soaked and dreamed and pretended this was
her everyday life.

Her mother had always told her that her
pretending would only be useful if she was on stage. And now, she
was. Doing what she’d promised herself she’d accomplish. Movies.
The world that fascinated her as much as it confused her. So many
people with egos and eccentricities. Actors who would do absolutely
anything to get a part. A cutthroat business where a person could
be your friend one day, and your worst enemy the next.

And then there was Steele. Solid, just like
his name. Grounded and honest. Generous and thoughtful. She could
pretend they were a couple, couldn’t she? Just for a few days. Her
fantasies of him started long before they met, but doubled in
intensity after Reno and Chase introduced them in LA nearly a year
ago.