Never Been Ready (7 page)

Daniel was my ex —ex-boyfriend, ex-lover...ex-forever man. He was supposed to be my happily ever after, but he had left me when I decided being a friend while my best friend's husband was dying took precedence over Daniel. He'd felt it was a competition, and like the spoiled little boy that he was, he'd left me. Clare had blamed herself for it for a long time. It wasn't her fault the guy was a grade-A asshole.

"I know, Clare. I'm just not currently looking for anyone. We're just having a bit of fun."

She nodded her head, but I could tell she didn't quite agree. I knew she wasn't judging. She wanted me to be happy, as happy as she was, and I loved her for that. But I didn't think love was in the cards for me.

"Hey, you don't always have to help me with laundry, you know?" she said, changing the subject and chucking a pair of socks at my head.

"Um, yes, I do." I laughed, ducking to dodge the sock attack. "When I get injured doing something incredibly stupid —because we all know it will happen someday —I expect you will return all of these awesome favors with interest. So, you see, it's not a selfless act. I am really a selfish bitch trying to protect my own ass."

She gave me a look that said
whatever
as she continued to match tiny pink socks and throw them into the basket. She knew I would gladly fold a hundred loads of laundry with her if it meant less stress for her and Logan right now. After two months of chemo and a couple rounds of radiation, their lives had been hectic. Never-ending doctor and treatment appointments had taken time away from Maddie and household chores. I'd helped out in any way I could —from sitting at home with Maddie while they ran to the hospital to running quick errands for them so that they could enjoy a bit of free time together.

I remembered every second Clare had suffered during Ethan's sickness. Having to go through something similar, even if the chances were much better, was still a blow to the heart. Every time she had walked into the treatment room at the hospital, I knew she would see Ethan sitting in one of those chairs, remembering him growing weaker until his doctors had finally told him that it wasn't an option anymore. But she'd been so strong —so much stronger than I could ever be. She'd walked proudly by Logan's side to every appointment, braving every fear and memory head-on.

A knock on the door broke the brief bit of silence, and I glanced up to see Logan standing in the doorway, looking in on us.

"Hello, ladies. What are we doing up here?"

"Folding your tighty whities," I replied smugly.

"Hmm...well, I know that's a lie 'cause I go commando," he shot back, equally smug.

"Nice. That's a mental picture I'm keeping for my spank bank!"

"Leah!" Clare scolded.

Logan laughed as he came in, and then he sat next to his bride. He bent his head and kissed her softly before whispering something in her ear that caused her to blush.

"So, what are you two crazy kids up to today?" I asked, not exactly sure I wanted to know after seeing the blush that was currently taking over Clare's ivory skin.

With red hair and fair skin, it wasn't easy for her to hide any embarrassment. It was something I loved to exploit at all times. She was my best friend. Embarrassing her was my job. Apparently, Logan excelled at the subject as well.

"We are unfortunately headed for the hospital," Clare said.

"You are? You didn't ask me to babysit, did you? I can, if you need me to."

"Actually," Logan answered, "Garrett is watching Maddie today."

"Garrett? Seriously?"

Clare just grinned and nodded.

"How the hell did you talk him into that? And are you sure he's old enough?"

"Leah! I know he's my baby brother, but he's twenty-three! He's home this week, working in the regional office in town, and he wanted to help out. So, I told him his niece would love to hang out with him. He jumped at the chance. You know how much he loves her."

I did. It was just really weird to see Garrett —the kid who couldn't look at me between the ages of fourteen and eighteen without getting an instant boner —was all grown-up. It made me feel old, and I did not want to feel old at twenty-eight.

"Come on," Clare beckoned, rising from the bed, "let's head downstairs. He should be here any minute, and I know he'd love to see you."

It had been ages since I'd seen Garrett Finnegan. Growing up, he'd been the brother I never had. Being an only child to an alcoholic single father had meant that our house wasn't usually filled with the warm and fuzzy feelings most children had.

Clare's family had been my sanctuary from the hell that I'd had to return to every night. When I walked into her house, I felt safe and secure. Being there, I had a mother who hadn't left me, a father who had loved me, and a kid brother who I could taunt. It had been normal, boring, and something I'd so desperately wanted. Clare's mother had known this, and she'd let me stay over as often as I'd needed. I thought, at some point, she had even tried to take me away from my awful home life, but the courts hadn't agreed.
Figures.

"Absolutely. I would love to see Goober. It's been ages," I said.

The three of us made our way downstairs. We found Maddie watching
Dora
and playing with Legos on the couch in the family room. I smiled and gave a silent laugh, seeing her watch the TV show that Clare despised. I knew it drove her batshit crazy, but she endured it because it was Maddie's absolute favorite. No matter how many other shows Clare introduced Maddie to, she always came back to that one. I think Clare had hoped she would grow out of it, but even now, several months into kindergarten, she still loved that stupid show.

I meandered into the remodeled kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. I loved this house. Seeing Clare move out of the house she and Ethan had lived in was difficult, but I was glad to see her starting over with Logan. This was his home before they'd met, and it was perfect for them. It was historic but completely remodeled to live in comfortably. It was as if Logan had purchased it, waiting for Clare and Maddie to come and make it a home.

"Hello? Anyone home?" a deep male voice called out as the front door was pushed open.

"Uncle Garrett!" Maddie screamed with glee, running down the hall to greet Garrett.

He was now trying to juggle a very enthusiastic five-year-old and a box of pizza. I joined him halfway and took the pizza out of his hand, so he could hold on to Maddie with both hands.

"Thought you could use some help there, Goober," I said with a wry smile.

"God, seriously, Leah? Still? I'm an adult. Aren't we past the Goober phase?"

"Uh, no. You will always be Goober, dude. It doesn't matter how old or how hot you get, you will forever be the dorky, lanky six-year-old, who followed me around an entire summer, asking if I would marry you."

We settled back into the kitchen, and I set the pizza box down as he released Maddie. She lost interest in our discussion and ran off to the family room to continue her
Dora
marathon. Clare and Logan were sitting at the kitchen table, making googly eyes at each other.

"I was six! And you've got to admit that it was pretty damn cute. Besides, I'm way over my infatuation with you. Wait —you think I'm hot?"

Catching my earlier comment, he glanced at me with amusement. I loved Garrett for so many reasons, but one of the biggest reasons was he and I could trash-talk and banter like this for hours. He totally got me and my blunt sense of humor.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately, Goober? That baby face melted away and left you with nothing but sex-on-a-stick hotness. Now, this is coming from a purely objective opinion because anything beyond that makes me want to hurl. Hot or not, you're still like a brother to me."

It was true. Garrett had always been blessed in the looks department, but after he turned eighteen, he'd really blossomed. He'd filled out more, his slimmer body becoming harder and more defined. His jet black hair and piercing green eyes that mirrored his sister's made him quite the package.

"Right on, Leah. I feel the same way. You're crazy hot, but I'd never in a million years tap that. Gross." He laughed.

"Tell that to your dick. You used to have to sit around with a pillow on your lap whenever I was around. Don't think I didn't notice."

"I was a horny teenager. What do you expect? I popped wood over tampon commercials," he admitted.

Clare covered her ears and groaned.

"Yuck. All right, well, now that we've reestablished how fucking hot we are, how are you doing? Job okay? Seeing anyone? Getting enough protein?" I asked.

"Oh, don't even try to ask him about his love life. You won't get anywhere," Clare chimed in.

Garrett rolled his eyes. "It's because I don't have one. I don't have any time. When I'm not traveling, I'm working eighty-hour weeks. When I do get a day off, I have a side job, babysitting," he said with a grin. "It's a very lucrative career."

"Okay, Goober, just don't work too hard. You know there is a life beyond a paycheck. Try to actually spend it on something enjoyable."

He nodded and smiled, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and I knew he wasn't listening. He was working himself to death, and I wondered why. There were many reasons people lost themselves in their work —to forget or to swap one addiction for another. What was his reason? At twenty-three, what could he possibly be trying to forget?

~Declan~

"Cut!" the director bellowed from his stance behind the cameraman. "What the hell was that, Declan? Your blocking is all over the place, and you look like you're headed out to pick up a fucking carton of milk! This is supposed to be your goddamn wife and children you are leaving behind. Show me some fucking emotion!" he barked.

Damn it
. I needed to get my head in the game. The problem was that I was pretty sure I'd left my head among other things in that hotel room with Leah.

I couldn't believe we'd slept together. I knew we'd slept together. That part of the evening had been stuck on repeat like a broken record in my fucking head. Just like the first night, I remembered every single second. What I couldn't get past was when we'd reached the point of exhaustion, we'd both collapsed on the king-sized bed, entangled in each other, and fallen asleep. I'd awoken this morning, and the first thing that had hit me was her flowery vanilla scent. I'd opened my eyes to find her naked form wrapped in my arms, and her soft honey-colored hair fanned out over my chest. Her breathing had been slow and even, still far away and deep in sleep. I hadn't known what to do. I'd never spent the night with anyone I'd fucked around with...since Heather. I would either make excuses and get the hell out afterward or send the woman packing. Sleeping in the same bed was intimate, and I'd forgotten how much so until I'd had Leah's warm, naked body wrapped in mine.

I'd gently uncurled my body from hers and headed for the shower, knowing my morning call time was quickly approaching. I'd told myself I was being a nice guy, allowing her to sleep in and not disturbing her with my work schedule, but it had been all a lie. I had been running. Waking up with her tempting body flush against mine had brought something out in me —the same feeling I'd had when she asked me last night to be hers only. It had been that innate feeling of want. I had held on to the slim chance that after we had come together again, I would be over her, like I'd originally planned, but with some cruel twist of fate, I only wanted her more. It seemed every time I had her, it fueled my desire that much further.

I took my position again for the opening of the scene I had just botched as I cleared my head and tried to focus. It wasn't working. Leah's writhing body against that door as I'd licked her clean filled my memory, and when I opened my eyes, I saw my costar, Natasha, standing before me, waiting for me to deliver my line.

Damn it, Declan. Concentrate.

Natasha's fake tears trickled down her cheek as she portrayed a broken wife saying good-bye to her husband as he went off to war. It was supposed to be a heartbreaking scene, one that would make the women in the theater weep.

"Sorry, guys, give me a minute," I said.

The set crew groaned. Everyone gave me a look that clearly said,
Get your shit together
, before they shuffled off to get coffee.

I paced for a second or two, trying to focus on the scene and job ahead of me. I looked up to see Natasha closing the distance between us, swaying her hips in her nineteenth-century gown.

She gave me a sympathetic look and placed her hand on my own. "Everything okay, Dec?"

I hated when people called me Dec. I also hated when phony people tried to act like they cared. It wasn't even two days ago when Natasha —or Tasha Sinclair as she was known most of the time —had barreled into my trailer, offering me a blow job because she had been bored. She was the daughter of a movie producer, and she was spoiled beyond most people's imaginations. After playing around with her father's money for a few years, she had decided she wanted to get into the family business and act. When Daddy wouldn't hire her on as a leading lady, she'd realized she was going to have to work at it like the rest of us peons. She'd been working her way up ever since. The funny thing was, she was actually pretty damn good. Apparently, hanging around all those celebrities her entire life had taught her a thing or two.

I wished it would have given her more of a personality. I swore helium was coming out of her fucking ears.

"I'm fine, Tasha," I said flatly.

"I could make you better, you know. We have a lunch break coming up. I'll come to your trailer," she said as her fingers brushed my chest.

I glanced up at her then, seeing her perfectly sculpted lips and her deep brown eyes that made the caramel highlights in her hair seem to glow. Her body was sculpted after years of training and probably numerous surgeries. She was flawless in every way, and I just wasn't interested.

"I'm good, thanks."

I didn't even give her the chance to respond. I just extracted her bony fingers from my body and walked away. Normally, I'd be up for a quickie on a break, but this woman didn't want just a bit of fun. She wanted the status of being with me. She wanted to lure me in and then sink her fangs in, thinking she could make us the next celebrity couple. I knew women like her. In Hollywood, I ran away from a hundred just like her. They didn't give two fucks about me. They only cared about my name and how many magazine spreads I could get them.