Next to You (21 page)

P
hlox watched
as Ginger Moon unfolded her long elegant body from the limousine ahead of them. Flashbulbs went off like fireworks as Zee’s mother smiled and directed her old-fashioned movie star glamour at the throngs of fans lining the sidewalk. Ginger Moon—Ms. Malisewski, as Phlox thought of her—wore a sleek black tuxedo suit and sky high heels, no blouse beneath the jacket. Her dark hair was blown out, her eyes made up in a sultry smoky style (the Phlox Beauty Smokin’ Hot eye palette), her lips a rich matte red (Phlox Beauty Roses are a Girl’s Best Friend lipstick). At forty-nine, Zee’s mother was still a striking beauty. Phlox could only hope she looked as good at that age.

Zee emerged from the limo right behind her mother in an ice blue vintage silk gown. In some ways—most ways, in fact, Phlox thought—Zee was the polar opposite of her mother. They shared the same dramatic coloring: porcelain, china doll skin and hair that was nearly dark as night. But Ginger Moon was tall and curvy, with a wide mouth and dramatic cheekbones, impossible not to notice on the street. Zee, on the other hand, was five foot two and physically almost slight. Her dark hair was cropped short ala Audrey Hepburn and her heart-shaped face was delicate and fine-boned. With another eight inches, Zee could have been a runway model.

Zee smiled as she followed her mother’s slow path down the red carpet. Ginger Moon had been a famous actress since Zee was a child and her fans knew all about Zee. The mystery of her father—Ginger Moon had never disclosed his identity (Zee was of the opinion that her mother had no idea who actually impregnated her). Zee’s distaste for her given name, Zelda. Zee’s wayward ways as a teenager. Zee was used to having a public persona that was separate—and sometimes entirely divorced—from reality.

Phlox held her breath as Zee and Ginger’s now empty limo pulled away and the limo Phlox and Jared were sitting in took its place. Their private reality was about to become very, very public in three, two … one. The door next to Jared was opened by unseen hands and Jared climbed out. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Damn it.
Phlox felt her lungs burn but she seemed incapable of taking a breath. Through the windshield she saw Zee turn around at the sound, her face cycling through multiple expressions. Confusion, consternation, disbelief. Then a wide grin.

Jared turned back to the limo and reached in to help Phlox out. Finally, her lungs relaxed and she took a deep breath, then grabbed his hand and let him pull her out onto the red carpet. Everything went into slow motion as the flashbulbs began to pop off all around them. She plastered a big smile on her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked Jared, her lips never wavering from her smile.

Jared clasped her hand tightly in his. “Just fine.”

She could hear his breathing, heavy and slow, beside her and she worried that he wasn’t just fine. She squeezed his hand to reassure him.

Ahead of them at the end of the red carpet rose a lovingly restored Art Deco theater. The soaring marquee glittered red and yellow in the dusk. Ginger Moon was peppered with questions right and left as she made her way down the carpet toward the theater. Phlox had watched her do this half a dozen times over the years since she’d met Zee. Zee’s mother made it look effortless, like a dance almost. Glide, pose, answer question, smile. Glide, pose, answer question, smile.

Zee drifted back toward Phlox and Jared.

“Glad you could make it,” Zee said quietly to Jared.

“Was this your idea or Cherise’s?” Phlox asked, her lips barely breaking her smile.

“Totally Cherise’s. I’m not that ballsy. I did have to reassure her, though, that I would reinstate her in the event you terminate her employment.”

Phlox shook her head slightly. “It would take way more than that to make me fire her.”

Photographers called out right and left to Phlox and Zee as they slowly walked the carpet. A group of young women held out magazines with Phlox Beauty ads they wanted signed. Zee and Phlox scribbled their names on the glossy pages, then someone shouted, “Was anyone on set using the A2Z Cream?”

Phlox felt Jared stiffen beside her and the noise of the red carpet grew muffled, as though she were inside a bubble. She squeezed Jared’s hand to let him know she was fine, then turned to the man who had shouted the question. But Zee answered first.

“My mother, of course.”

“Was she burned?” the reporter shouted a followup question.

Zee craned her neck theatrically, looking toward her mother ahead of them on the red carpet. “Not that she’s mentioned.”

“Only a small portion of the production was affected by the tampering,” Phlox added. She felt Jared’s reassuring hand on the small of her back.

Phlox and Zee posed for more photographs as they made their way toward the theater entrance. They were twenty feet from the door when another reporter called out a question.

“Mr. Connor! Are you one of the backers of the film?”

This time it was Phlox’s turn to stiffen with apprehension. Part of her had hoped that Jared could simply be here as her date, as her arm candy and that no one would zero in on him tonight. He would be identified in photographs tomorrow, but they would deal with that then. As more flashbulbs lit up the air in front of her face, she realized how unrealistic that hope had been. Suddenly it was she who was fighting the urge to run toward the door, to race for the safety of a darkened theater.

Jared stopped and turned to the reporter. “No, I’m not.” He pulled Phlox tight against his side, his arm wrapping around her waist and then some. “I’m just here with my girlfriend. I am a backer of
her
company however.”

“Do you think that’ll prove to be a wise investment, given the product tampering? Seems to indicate a lack of security in the supply chain.”

Phlox gritted her teeth but Jared simply laughed and said to the reporter, “You do know you’re at a movie premiere, right?” Jared shook his head. “I only make wise investments. That’s why I don’t invest in many companies. Now, do you have a question about the movie?”

Phlox wasn’t the only one who had noticed the photographers drawing closer to them, like sharks to chum. Zee moved to the other side of Jared and slipped her arm around his waist, grabbing Phlox’s elbow on the other side. As the three of them smiled into the onslaught of camera flashes, Phlox feared her heart was about to burst out of love for her gallant boyfriend and her steadfast best friend and business partner—and out of anger that Jared even needed to be brave. When you save a child from a burning house—as a child yourself—you should have your bravery bona fides. You shouldn’t have to take shit from anyone ever again.

“Uh sure. What did you think of the film?” the reporter held out his microphone.

“Haven’t seen it yet. I’m just here with my girlfriend.” And with that, Jared cupped her head and gave her a long and very public kiss.

J
ared held
tight to Phlox’s hand as they followed the usher down the aisle of the theater. He hadn’t let go of her hand even for a second since that asshole reporter asked about the product tampering. It had taken all of Jared’s self control not to choke the dick with his camera strap. He would rather someone had asked about his father instead of Phlox’s business problems.

That realization hit Jared like a brick to the head.

He wanted to protect her. She had tapped into his latent caveman tendencies. Hell, she’d done that the very first day he saw her when she flung herself off the porch. When someone criticized her, he wanted to pick her up and carry her off.
If you can’t be nice, you don’t get to have her.

The usher turned into the second row, and Jared followed Phlox and Zee to three seats in the center. They were seated directly behind Ginger Moon, the movie’s director and the rest of the cast. A twinge of self consciousness pinched deep in Jared’s gut but he reminded himself that everyone behind him, which was most of the people in attendance, could see only the back of his head.

Phlox seemed to read his thoughts when she leaned her mouth to his ear and whispered, “No making out in the back of the theater for us, hmm?”

Jared laid his hand on her sequin-covered knee. “Probably a good thing, given what you have on underneath this.” He smiled as a lovely pink flush overtook her cheeks and neck.

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Zee broke in.

Jared leaned around Phlox to reply to Zee. “What we would be doing if we were seated in the back row.” He grinned and extended his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. Jared Connor. Caretaker extraordinaire.”

Zee returned his hearty shake. “Nice to meet you, Jared. Thank you for your investments, the recent one as well as the earlier one.”

Phlox looked between them, a frown creasing her forehead. “What earlier one?”

“Remember that young entrepreneur’s grant we received years ago?” Zee said.

“No … not really.”

“Well, the Connor Foundation gave us a couple million in change when we were starting out.” Zee dipped her head toward him. “Yes, I checked up on you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said.

“But do keep in mind that I know where Phlox keeps the gardening shears in Connecticut.”

“Oh my god.” Phlox covered her face with her hands. “Did my partner just threaten my date with castration?”

“Not threatening. Just a friendly little warning, that’s all.”

“Oh look, they’re getting started.” Phlox looked pointedly toward the stage, then shot Zee a meaningful “back off” glare.

Jared wasn’t offended that Phlox’s friend and partner had fired a shot across the bow. On the contrary, he liked that she had people so loyal to her. Zee, Miss Pitbull Brisk Efficient, Aidan and Emma.

Jared heard barely a word of the director’s speech. Even when the lights dimmed and the movie began, Jared’s head remained somewhere else. He didn’t regret accompanying Phlox tonight. He would always go where she needed him to be. He was all in on this now. But he’d much rather be at home with her, curled up together on the sofa with a big bowl of popcorn nestled between them.

Jake was forever complaining that the only movies he and Mina watched anymore were animated kids’ movies so Jared mentally added a few kids to the picture in his mind. Now he and Phlox were snuggled up on the sofa, two kids (a boy and a girl) lying on their stomachs on the floor in front of him, their heads propped up on their elbows the way Aidan and Emma did. In front of each was a separate bowl of popcorn so they didn’t fight over it the way he and Jake used to do. One or both would fall asleep halfway through the movie and Jared would scoop them up and carry them back to bed, smooth their hair (white blonde like Phlox’s) away from their sweaty little faces. He would stand over their beds and watch them sleep, watch them chuff and sigh at their dreams, amazed by the miracle of their existence, amazed by how damn lucky he was.

He reached over and pulled Phlox’s hand into his, entwined his rough work-hewn fingers with her soft slender ones. He wanted Phlox Miller. He wanted her in his bed every night, wanted their children sleeping down the hall, wanted to spend summers at the house in Connecticut watching the kids do cannonballs into the pool while he lounged in the hot tub with her. Damn it, he would be the one to get that installed. He wasn’t letting some other caretaker fulfill what he had promised her. Hell, there wasn’t going to be another caretaker, period, if he had anything to say about it. He would take care of her property.

He would take care of her. This was it.
She
was it. The one. Even as a child, he had always assumed that there would never be a “one” for him. For years he had been telling himself he was okay with that, okay with being the bachelor uncle. Okay with being alone. But Phlox had changed his mind. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted a life with her, a family with her, a home with her. And he would do whatever to took to get that.

A
s far as
grand gestures went, this had been pretty major, Phlox thought as the hotel elevator ticked off the floors. Jared had been her date at a public event and not just any public event, but one in Hollywood, ground zero for surgically perfect people. She leaned against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator, exhausted. Normally people didn’t pay much attention to her at Ginger Moon’s premieres or the after-parties. They were usually more interested in Zee, and Phlox had always been content with that.

Tonight, though, it was Zee who had been able to graze the hors d’oeuvres and the bar unmolested. Half the people at the after-party had wanted to talk to Phlox about her plastic surgery—no surprise there once she thought about it. Of course, actors would want the name of her surgeon. She had probably sent enough business to Dr. Ryan tonight to keep him busy for the next year.

The other half had wanted to talk to Jared about technology stocks and which startups were going to be the next hot things. Unleashed from his caretaker facade, Jared the businessman was an impressive sight. Though every time another man introduced himself to Phlox, Jared excused himself from whatever conversation he was engaged in and returned to her side to chase off the competition.

The elevator chimed at her floor and the doors opened. She hobbled on her aching feet into the hall, too tired to lean down and unbuckle her strappy silver heels.

“Why do women wear those shoes?” Jared mused as he scooped her up and carried her down the hall.

“Men like them.”

“Well, of course we do. By the end of a date, you can’t stand. Makes it easier to get you into bed.”

“Is that where we’re headed? Bed?”

Jared took the room key from her fingers and swiped the door open. “Eventually.”

Inside, he lowered her gently to the sofa and proceeded to undo her shoes. Phlox nearly fainted from relief when his hands began to massage her foot.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For not telling you who I was earlier.”

“I’ve forgiven you for that.”

“And I’m sorry for running away. My first instinct is to dive for cover when things get hairy.”

“How on earth did you build a business? Was Accendo smooth sailing from day one?”

“No.”

He leaned in and kissed the top of her foot, sending a stinging heat straight up the inside of her leg.

“I never felt I had any other option but to start my own business. Even in college, no one wanted to hire me for part-time jobs or internships. And then when I did, I had to be successful. When you look the way I do, you can’t be mediocre.”

His hands disappeared beneath the silk of her dress as they slid up her left calf. The stinging heat on her leg was now a throbbing desire deep in her body.

“Was that movie any good tonight? Because I missed half of it,” he said, his hands now encircling her knee. “There was a better movie going on in my mind.”

His fingers danced over the skin of her thigh and Phlox felt her lower body clench with desire. Did he remember that she had on nothing beneath her dress?

Yes. Yes, he did. She moaned as his fingers brushed the wet heat beneath her legs. She wanted this man, and not just in her bed—though that was where she wanted to take him in the immediate future.

“I want a second chance with you, Phlox.”

She gave a little cry as his hand withdrew and slid down her leg. He stood and pulled her up from the sofa.

“I want to do things right this time,” he added.

“No running away?”

He shook his head and pulled her in close against his body.

“No more hiding important facts about your life?”

“I’m an open book from here on out.” He kissed her. “Anything you want to know, ask away.”

“What’s your middle name?”

He sucked on her lower lip. That throbbing desire had moved north into her breasts, which were aching for his touch.

“William.”

“Jared William Connor,” she said, trying out the sound of it. “Where are you from, Jared William Connor?”

“I was born in Walnut Creek, California. Then Jake and I moved to Berkeley to live with an aunt and uncle. I graduated from high school there.”

He picked her up and carried her into the hotel suite’s bedroom. His arms were hard against her skin, nothing but muscle. She watched the scars on his shoulders flex with her weight.

She leaned into him and kissed his neck. “I’m not done with my twenty questions. I still have eighteen more to go.”

But Jared was already setting her down and unzipping her dress all in one smooth movement. In an instant she was completely naked. His eyes were dark with lust as they raked over her body.

“How about ten questions tonight and ten in the morning?” he suggested.

He toed off his black monk strap shoes and loosened the dark pink tie. He draped it around her neck, then shrugged out of his grey suit jacket. She began to unbutton his crisp white shirt. The muscles of his chest felt good beneath her hands, solid and so
there.

“Who was your first grade teacher?” she asked.

“Mrs. Ripley. Hell on wheels. Jake had her a few years after me. She loved him.”

Phlox gave a breathy little laugh. “The two of you have quite the sibling rivalry. Seems to me like a big brother could be a little more magnanimous.”

“Unfortunately for Jake, I have no idea what that word means.”

“Liar. Where did you go to college?”

“Stanford.”

“Full ride?”

He shrugged.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

She slid his shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the carpet with a soft hush. She ran her finger beneath the waistband of his grey wool pants. “There’s something about a man wearing dress pants and nothing else that’s …” She gave a little shake of her head.
That’s so damn hot.

“There’s something about a woman wearing a jacket and pretty much nothing else, too. I bought those
Vanity Fair
pictures from the photographer. The originals. I don’t want anyone else owning them.”

Phlox looked at the scars that puckered the skin on his chest, ribs and biceps. How could someone do that to a child? Leave them to burn in their sleep?

Jared waited a moment, letting her look at him. There was always a watchful stillness about him at this point—when they were naked and she was looking at him—as though he were waiting for someone to hit him.

“You’re beautiful to me, Jared. You know that, don’t you?”

There was so much about his body that was absolutely perfect. The way his broad caretaker’s shoulders narrowed to the flat muscles of his stomach. The callouses and tiny cuts on his hands that said he was a man who knew how to fix thing—even scraped-up knees. Those lips that said funny things and sweet things, and that could kiss her into utter mindlessness.

So much about this
man
was absolutely perfect.

His hands went to the button of his pants and her eyes followed. The button popped through and he lowered the zipper. She watched as the pants fell from his narrow hips in a quiet swish of fabric, then the black boxer briefs. He leaned over and rolled off his grey dress socks.

“Do you ever go commando?” she asked.

“No. But I will if you want me to.” He chuckled quietly. “That’s six questions. You have four more tonight.”

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

He sucked in his breath sharply.

“You don’t have to answer—” she hurried to give him an out.

“I was eighteen. At Stanford. There was this girl in one of my classes who was always really friendly with me. We began studying together on weekends and one weekend we slept together. Turned out she’d been offered two hundred dollars to have sex with me.” He let out his breath in a rush. “I was clueless about girls. I thought she really liked me.”

“That’s awful. What a horrible person.”

“She sent me an email after I sold Accendo. To apologize.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. I just deleted it without replying.”

“Well, that’s what she deserved, I’d say.”

“By then, I’d spent years fucking women who expected to be paid in exchange for sleeping with me. I gave them jobs, trips, jewelry, clothing. Whatever their little hearts desired. I couldn’t in any fairness be upset with her anymore when I was doing it willingly.”

“Jared,” she whispered, then fell silent. What was there to say to that? All she could give him was the truth. “You know I don’t want anything like that from you. I just want—” What did she want from him? His time. His company. His rare smile. His sexy body in her bed. “Your heart.”

“You don’t want much, do you?”

“I want whatever you can give me.”

“My heart’s in pretty bad shape, as far as gifts go.”

“I don’t believe that.” She reached out to lay her hand over his heart but he stepped back, out of reach.

They looked at each other for a long moment, the six inches between them suddenly stretched out like miles. Jared’s expression was sad and wary, and it was breaking her heart.

She stayed where she was, making no move toward him. “I just want to touch you,” she said. “It feels so amazing when you touch me—even here,” she laid her palms over the scars on her stomach. “I want to give that to you.”

She watched the play of emotions across his face—fear and wanting, excitement and uncertainty—before Jared turned around and crossed his wrists behind his back.

“Use my tie.”

“You want me to tie you up?” Phlox was puzzled. He’d hated this and yelled at her when they tried it at her house.

“I want you to touch me.”

“You didn’t like this before.”

“I want to try again. I want to be open with you, Phlox. But it’s hard for me. I’m not in the habit of being open with people. I won’t stop you this time. But tie my hands just in case.”

She tugged the pink silk tie from her neck, looped it around his wrists and tied it off in a knot. “Is that too tight?”

He wiggled his wrists. “It’s fine.” He turned to face her again.

Phlox looked at the scars on his chest and hesitated. “Do we need a safeword, in case it becomes too much for you?”

“I’m not even going to ask how you know what a safeword is.”

“I read that book. Everyone knows what a safeword is nowadays.”

“Huh. Wish I’d known that earlier …” His face lit briefly with a grin.

“Jared.”

“No, I don’t need a safeword. I trust you to stop.”

She took a deep breath and ran her hands over her own scarred stomach first, before reaching up to Jared’s face.

“Do you want me to turn the lights off?” she asked.

“No. I want you to see me.”

She pressed her palm to his chest and stole a quick glance up at his face. His eyes were glazed, like he was trying to imagine himself far away, his jaw set and unmoving. Phlox wasn’t sure she could really go through with it, touching him if he didn’t want to be touched.

She traced a finger along a ridge of skin. His breathing was shallow and harsh. “Does it hurt when I touch your scars?”

“No,” he gritted out.

She leaned in and kissed his chest, her tongue darting out to taste the heat of his skin. His muscles quivered beneath her lips but he didn’t ask her to stop. He let her explore the twisting mess of scars that covered his skin. She slid her hands down to his hipbones and held him firmly.

“I love your scars, Jared,” she said into his skin, “because they’re yours. And because you don’t look like anyone else.” He stiffened beneath her breath and she kissed her way back up his chest until she reached his mouth. To her dismay, his lips remained closed to her kiss. “What’s the matter?”

“I do look like someone.” He turned the unscarred side of his face toward her. “Jake looks like our mother.” He paused to let that sink in. “And the older I get, the more I look like him.”

“Oh, Jared.”

“Every day I have to look in the mirror and see him on half of my face and what he did to us on the other half.”

Jared’s eyes shone wet with tears and Phlox fought to hold back her own. How trivial her own concerns about her new face seemed now, her discomfort in her own skin. Jared had to go through life in someone else’s skin, someone who had done something unbelievably horrific to him.

She reached behind his back and undid the knotted silk tie, tossed it to the floor. She loved this man, this solid, sexy, tender, hurting … beautiful man.

“Phlox, no.” He kept his wrists crossed behind his back.

“I don’t want to touch you if you can’t stop me.”

“I won’t stop you. I told you that.” He closed his eyes.

She laid her palm against his smooth cheek, caressing it.

“What are you doing?”

“Touching your scars.”

His breath left him in a rush, a choked sob expelling all the air he was holding in his lungs. Phlox wrapped her arms around him. She gasped at the heat of his chest searing her skin. Several more sobs bucked their bodies together, then he grabbed her ass, hiked her up to his hips, and crossed the remaining feet to the bed. They tumbled onto it together, arms and legs tangled, their lips searching for each other.

“Use me, Jared.” She was overcome with desire for this man and with the need to just envelope him in her body, soothe whatever ached and burned inside him. “Let me take care of you tonight. Whatever you want.”

“God, I love you.” His mouth mashed down on hers hard, not an aggressive kiss but a desperate one, like she might disappear if his need were too weak. “No one has ever looked at me the way you do. When I see all that kindness and … acceptance in your eyes, I can barely believe it.”

“Believe it, Jared. Please believe it. I love you.”

His mouth left her lips and attached themselves to her neck, then her collarbone, on their hungry way to her breasts. “It scares me, the way you look at me, because to have it and then lose it would kill me. It would kill me, Phlox, and I say that as a man who nearly was killed once.” His breath was hot against her skin as he buried his face between her breasts. “Fuck,” he said, raising his gaze to meet hers, his eyes burning dark and wet. “It’s already too late. If I lose you …”

“Why did you quit then?”