Kissed Blind (A Hot Pursuit Novel Book 2) (10 page)

Eleven

Vance and I hung around Oliver’s set the rest of the day until the sun was only an orange shadow on the horizon. We watched all of the behind-the-scenes action to filming. Some great outtakes had me in stitches, and I got to meet Oliver’s costar, Leland Jackson who was an up-and-coming, and also rather easy on the eyes. I was pretty sure when I told Becca I got to meet him she’d need to be resuscitated.

One scene in particular, Oliver’s character and Leland’s got into a fist fight on the street. Neither used a stunt double, and they must have done forty takes before the director was satisfied he’d gotten all the angles and lighting correct. Only then did he call it a day. It was grueling for them, but a lot of fun for me.

After all was said and done, filming wrapped, and Oliver went back into his trailer to get cleaned up and change into his clothes. Most of the crowd had died down during the day but some remained. I scanned the area for the man I’d seen earlier, but he was gone.

Vance fetched the car and brought it around to the actor’s entrance. We drove to the police station and walked inside. The air smelled funky like cheap coffee, stale cigarettes, and popcorn as we approached a set of glass windows.

Oliver gave his name to a female officer behind the desk. She looked older than I guessed her to be compliments of her short, masculine haircut and a natural approach to makeup. When she looked up and saw Oliver staring back at her, she nearly fell out of her chair. After he signed a couple of autographs for her, and after she snapped a couple of selfies with him, Detective Bradford and Rhodes came out from behind a closed door.

“Mr. Pierce,” Detective Bradford said, “thanks so much for coming by. If you’ll come with us, we’d like to show you something.”

“Sure,” Oliver agreed.

We were led back through rows of desks to a long hallway. On a bench near a conference room, Cici sat by herself.

“Cici?” Oliver said. “Where’s Camille?”

“She stayed back at the apartment.” She didn’t look up from her hands folded in her lap.

“Why’d they call you down here?” Oliver walked toward her, but Detective Rhodes stopped him.

“I didn’t do it.” Her voice quivered and eyes filled with tears.

An invisible hand slapped Oliver, and he turned toward the officer. “Why’s she sitting here by herself?”

Bradford turned a discerning eye on Cici before looking back to Oliver. “I’d like to show you the video we have. She’s not being charged with anything, but we need you to corroborate her story.”

“You need me to corroborate her story?” He frowned.

“Please, let’s go in here.” He led Oliver into the private room and shut the door. Vance and I stood outside, and Cici scooted toward the end of her bench to be closer to Vance.

“I didn’t do it, I swear.” She pled.

“What do they think you did?” Vance asked.

“They think I messed with his brakes.
Me.
Honestly, I wouldn’t be able to find brake lines on a car with a map. This is so unbelievable.” A stray tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and down her cheek. She blotted it with the back of her sleeve to preserve what was left of her makeup.

“What was on the video?” I asked.

“After I picked up the car and parked it down in the garage below the building, I was crawling around under the car. The video is grainy and not the best quality. I took a stupid hide-a-key out of my pocket and was looking around for places on the car to put it. If you knew Oliver like I do, you’d know the man can lose his keys easier than a girl can lose her virginity on prom night.”

“Can’t they just look under the car for the key?” I asked.

She laughed. “That’s the problem. It must have gotten knocked loose and fell off in the accident because it wasn’t there when they inspected it. They think I’m lying.” She shielded her face with her hands.

“I’m sure they’re only skeptical and checking into everything. This is a higher profile case than they’re used to dealing with,” I said.

“Yeah.” She huffed. “If that’s what skeptical looks like, I’d hate to see what they act like when they know someone’s guilty. I’m pretty convinced I might need to be bailed out tonight. They’re showing the video to Oliver and they’re going to ask him about the key.”

“Then problem solved, right? He’ll see the video and say that was what you were doing, and we’ll be out of here.” Vance patted her shoulder.

She rubbed the fronts of her thighs as her face fell. “That’s just it. I forgot to tell him about the key. I was going to, but on his first trip out he got into the accident and totaled the car. It was going to be a funny little inside joke, but now the joke’s on me. It’s going to look bad.”

The door to the conference room opened, and Oliver came out with the detectives following behind him.

“Okay, let’s get out of here,” Oliver said, motioning with his head for Cici to come with us.

“What?” She slowly rose, waiting for Bradford or Rhodes to tell her to sit again.

“You’re free to go, ma’am. Mr. Pierce told us it was standard for you to hide a key on the car. We apologize for the inconvenience,” Rhodes added.

Cici swallowed. “Um, okay.”

Oliver put his hand on Cici’s back and led the way to our exit. The three of us stood in an inconspicuous area while Vance brought the car around.

“Thanks,” Cici said to Oliver once we were all loaded into the car. I looked in one of the mirrors, and she stared down into her lap.

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. Were you really hiding a key?”

Her head snapped in his direction. “Of course! I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“The video didn’t look good.”

Her voice dropped low. “I know. I just forgot to tell you about the hide-a-key.”

“Okay,” Oliver said, but his tone held a thread of doubt.

“I swear! Last time we were on location in Hawaii you kept losing your car keys, remember? You lost them on the set that one day and we all ended up rooting through the garbage cans but never found them. Although, I still think it was Clooney playing one of his jokes. I didn’t want you to get stuck again. I just forgot to tell you before you left that night to go for a drive. That’s all.”

Oliver grunted his understanding and laughed lightly. “It was Clooney in Hawaii. He had someone bake them into a cake with a note that said ‘The KEY to a healthy diet.’ I was working out twenty-four seven for that role and was on that horrible meal plan. He knows I love cake. I still have to get even with him for that.” He patted her leg. “All right then. That makes perfect sense. Let’s put the whole experience behind us. And they didn’t see anything else on the videos, so it looks like it was rats that chewed the lines. Case closed.”

“You should sue them for carelessness. It’s ridiculous that something like that could even happen. Rats? Really?” She shivered. “It’s disgusting.”

“I’m letting it go. I have bigger things to worry about.” Oliver leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, listening to the rubber of the tires meeting the road. Up in the apartment, Camille greeted Oliver as soon as we walked through the door, showing no signs of the previous evening’s events. She was recovered and full of energy.

“You’re home. I was starting to worry. I’ve sent you several messages and called the set. They said you left more than an hour ago. Where have you been?” Camille asked, kissing Oliver’s cheek.

“We had to make a stop on the way back, no big deal.” He rubbed her arms. “You’re looking better. How do you feel?”

“Loads better. I don’t know what I would do without you. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“No one knows you like I do, darling.” Something was hidden in Oliver’s tone, almost like bait, but Camille didn’t bite.

Cici had gone into the kitchen and was busying herself with something when Oliver stopped Vance and me from entering the apartment farther.

“It’s late. You both have had a full day. Please, go home. I’m ready to pass out. I won’t need you for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, and everything is still on schedule for tomorrow?” Vance asked.

“They need me on set early. I need to leave here around eight.” Oliver shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair.

Vance nodded. “No problem. We’ll see you then.”

As we were leaving, Camille accused Cici of sneaking out while she was resting. She asked again where Oliver and Cici had been so late. The shouting began as the door shut.

.              .              .

Before Vance drove me back to my apartment, he called his mother. I set my phone in one of the cup holders and listened to Teresina DeLuca’s voice through the line. Sal had fallen asleep after a long day and was resting. The medical bills and the rehab facility, however, were the next biggest source of concern. She went through the cost of his medication, his aftercare, his wheelchair, his food, it was all mounting up, but Vance reassured her he would figure something out. She said she’d tell his dad he’d called and to go home and eat; he was a growing boy after all. After some more loving bickering, the call ended. He plugged in his phone, and I reached to change the radio station.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there, princess, hands off.”

“Come on.” I groaned.

He slapped my hands away from the dial. “Nope, you won last time. I get my music.”

I thought about protesting but could almost feel his stress over finances and his dad’s illness, so I gave him this one. He hopped through a few different channels before settling on one and sighed.

“Ah man, I haven’t heard this song in years.”

I read the display. It wasn’t a song I recognized, but he knew it well. He turned the volume up and started to sing.

His voice, smoky and smooth, was pure honey. It melded with the lead singer’s gritty sound, and my chest filled with a soothing weightlessness. I smiled to myself in the shadow of the night and looked out the window, listening.

He knew the song word for word, and when he got to the chorus, I closed my eyes to feel the lyrics. It wasn’t exactly a ballad, but it wasn’t a rock song either. It sat in a sweet spot somewhere in between, and the voice next to me breathed more life and meaning into it than the band ever could.

Words rolled off his tongue, and I wanted to peek at him, but was afraid if he caught me, he’d stop. He did catch me though, but instead of stopping he sang at the top of his lungs with his head held high. It was beautiful—he was beautiful. A broad smile spread across my face, especially when he used my hand as a microphone.

A week’s worth of stress vanished in just over four minutes, well worth letting him win the radio war. When the song ended, I floated down and wished there had been a repeat button. Vance returned the volume to a reasonable level.

I released a quiet breath. “You have a nice voice.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I like listening to you, always have.” I looked out the window as Vance pulled to a stop a few blocks away from the apartment.

“But?”

“But what?” I pulled my attention away from a couple walking hand-in-hand down the sidewalk.

“But… dogs are going to start lining up behind the car? Something, you can’t just compliment me and leave it at that.” The reflection of the blinker from the car next to us flashed muted red light across his playful grin.

“I’m being one hundred percent sincere. When you sing, something happens and you change somehow, it’s magnetic.”

His gaze travelled over my face and searched my eyes, his smile softening in a manner that disturbed me in every way. My stomach tingled, and I shifted in my seat while everything else around me seemed to stop.

The car behind us honked, breaking the spell, and we drove along. The closer we got to my apartment the more a sinking feeling settled into my stomach.  

“Gabe still working late?” Vance asked.

“Uh huh.” I nodded.

“What would you think about playing a few rounds of cards?”

“At my place?” The feeling weighing down my stomach lifted a tiny bit.

“No, at the pizza place down the road.” He shook his head. “Of course at your place.”

I chuckled. “You sure you’re not too tired?”

“No. Going to bed sounds nice, but I’d rather be with you.” He pulled down my street, and my pulse rose higher and higher.

“All right.”

He stopped at the curb in front of my building and shut the engine off. As he reached for his phone, I reached for mine, and our hands grazed. A snap of electricity shot through our fingers, and we stopped. It shouldn’t have struck either of us any differently, we’d touched each other a million times, but this touch was different. His chocolate eyes held mine, and I couldn’t have willed myself to move if I’d tried.

Someone knocked on my window, and I jumped. My heart almost stopped when I saw who stood outside.

Twelve

Gabe stood in the strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street holding a bottle of wine.

“Gabe?” I opened the door and hopped out. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were working late.” I hugged him, and he nuzzled into my hair.

“I couldn’t stand not seeing you another day so I rescheduled. I wanted to surprise you.”

The engine turned over, and Vance rolled down the window. “I’m going to take off. See you in the morning.”

I turned around and hooked my fingers against the open window. “Sorry,” I whispered.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Don’t be.”

Gabe stepped up behind me and leaned in. “Hey, Vance.”

“How ya doin’, Gabe? Good to see you.”

“You too. Thanks for the invite to dinner Sunday.”

Vance nodded. “Don’t mention it. Di, see you tomorrow, and Gabe, see you Sunday. Have a good night.” Before I could say a word, he rolled up the window and drove off. 

A nagging sensation twisted my stomach as Gabe and I headed inside.

In my kitchen, I stopped in the pantry to pop a quick chocolate in my mouth, smashing the red foil into a ball and tossing it in the general direction of the garbage can. Savoring the dark, rich creaminess, I changed my clothes and slipped one of Gabe’s old shirts over my head. With his collar to my nose, I inhaled. It always smelled like Gabe no matter how many times I washed it and usually gave me an extra sense of comfort, but this time it didn’t. It cascaded over the swell of my hips and stopped just below my behind.

At the sink, I shook my hair loose and splashed cold water on my face, taking note for the first time in hours how my eye looked. My old scar hopped out from beneath its pillow of deep pink, giving me a little reminder of my past. As far as the punch I’d taken recently, my eye was moving right along in the healing process. Another few days and the knife attack would be a faded memory. I tucked my hair behind my ears and switched the lights off. I found Gabe on the couch holding an extra glass of wine.

“Well aren’t you a sight?” The way his eyes raked my body from head to toe confessed his inner most thoughts, and luckily, they didn’t stop to notice the blaring injury on my face.

“Am I?”

“I like your shirt.” His voice was a soft growl.

“Oh, this old thing?” I tipped my shoulder up toward a crooked grin.

“Sit down and have some wine before I rip that off of you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tempt me.” His raised brows told me to not push him further, otherwise I’d never get a sip of what he held between his fingers, and I wanted it—no, needed it.

I sat taking the glass handed to me and smelled the fruity pinot grigio exploding under my nose. I sipped. The cold burst over my tongue, but the warmth seeped through my veins. I closed my eyes and moaned. It was like lilies and sunshine smashed into a glass of tart nectarines.

“Tell me everything about working with Oliver Pierce,” Gabe said drinking from his glass.

The memories of the day darted through my mind. “It’s been fun. It was a little crazy getting onto the set today, but aside from that it hardly feels like work.”

“You were out kind of late tonight, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck and seemed to be working out a kink, but I knew better.

“Is that a question?” I leaned into his line of sight and smiled.

“Maybe.” He grinned, dimpling his cheeks, and glanced out of the corner of his eye.

“Oliver and Leland Jackson shot a fight scene, and they must have gone through forty takes before they got it right. The director called it, but I think it was only because the daylight was almost gone.”

“Sounds entertaining.” He began stroking my toes. “Have you seen any of the headlines from the thing in the park?”

“Me? No. I only saw what they said on the news this morning.” The slight hesitation in his voice gave me reason to pause. “Why… or do I even want to know?”

“One was captioned ‘Will You Be My Bodyguard’ and there was a close up of you fending off the guy, which still bugs me by the way.” He studied the parting gift around my eye.

“I know.” Just like the sky is blue, Gabe would forever worry when I was in the field. I’d moved beyond being bothered by it.

“Then one said something else.” He fought to choke out the words lingering in the back of his throat.

“You’re scaring me a little. Tell me.”

“They snapped a picture of Oliver looking at you, and it was… evocative.”

“Evocative? Well,
la tee dah
.” I coughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I didn’t like the look in his eyes. The headline suggested you might be his next leading lady.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s hilarious. Me? Boy, are they way off base.”

“Are they?”

I squinted, and the refrigerator kicked on, humming in the background,
rmmm… rmmm… rmmm
. I refused to answer such an absurd question. If he had something to say, I would sit forever until the fat lady belted out a boisterous tune.

“Watching Oliver Pierce has thrust you into the limelight.”

“Please. Hardly.” I smeared the frost collecting on my glass until it gathered enough liquid to run down the stem.

He paused for a beat. “But how could it not? Just look at you.”

I took a deep breath in through my nose. “It’s a ridiculous story.”

“Is it?”

The faint seeds of doubt sprouted in his voice. Given our past, I suppose I was partly to blame. “You know you’re being silly, right? It’s the tabloids. I admit I never thought I’d be a part of them, but it’s completely made up.”

“Of course, I’m being ridiculous.” He snorted. “Just make sure Oliver Pierce keeps his hands to himself.”

I stretched my legs across his lap and leaned back against the arm of the couch. “Please, he’s a married man.”

“That doesn’t stop people in Hollywood. When the cat’s away, people screw the nanny. I don’t want your name splashed along one of those headlines and dirtied like you’re some backstreet hook—” He knew better than to finish the word. “It would drive me nuts.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Camille is in town so the cat isn’t even away.”

He ran his hand over my leg. “Good.” He threw back what remained in his glass.

“How’s work been?”

“Busy.”

“Is the new merger going any better?”

He set his glass down on the table and didn’t look at me with his eyes but undressed me with them. “I don’t want to talk about work.”

I spun the stem of my glass between my fingers and already felt naked. “Don’t you? Even with all you have going on?”

“Even with all I have going on.” He made a barely audible sound deep in his throat like he’d bitten into something divine. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“In all the hours I’ve been working recently, there’s this one thing I can’t seem to get off my mind no matter how hard I try.” His hand inched its way up my thigh.

“Which is?”

“You standing naked in front of my shower and the water running down your body.”

I set my glass next to his and settled deeper into the couch, my foot brushing against his tightening zipper. “Oh yeah, what about it? You’ve seen me that way plenty of times.”

“I can’t see it enough, and every time may as well be the first.” A dark look took over his eyes, and he dropped his voice to a husky whisper. “We have unfinished business, Diana.”

My ears hummed when he said my name. “We do, do we?”

“Em hmm.”

His fingers moved higher, hooking over the lace band of my panties, and then tugging them down over my feet. He scooped me off the couch and carried me into the bedroom, setting me on top of my quilt.

He pulled off my shirt, and with my hair webbed over my face, I unbuttoned his oxford and pushed the starched material off his shoulders. I brushed my hair away and scooted back as he unbuckled his belt and removed his pants. His lean, athletic build was something I’d never tire of, the tightness of his boxer briefs emphasizing the force of his thighs and the slimness of his hips. He ran his fingers through his sandy brown locks, which had grown longer than usual in recent months. He knelt down at my feet and brought my knees up, pushing them apart.

“Gabe.” I snapped my legs closed. “I… um… I’ve been working all day.”

“So?”

“So, I was thinking we might skip this part. I haven’t showered.” I covered my face with my hands and slowly peeked at him.

“Do you think I care?”

I giggled. “What if I care?”

“You shouldn’t. You always taste good.”

A rush of heat flooded my body, and once again he pushed my legs apart, and this time I let them fall. His liquid lips descended, massaging the most intimate part of me and awakening my hidden desire.

His tongue swirled and darted in all the right ways. He’d memorized my body and knew what to do, how to take me there. I closed my eyes and rid myself of any lingering reservations and got lost in the feelings.

Each nuance of his tongue tickled every inch of my flesh, and every warm brush of his breath painted my core with his scent. His hands held my hips, and I pushed my body against his mouth, guiding him to the perfect place. He moved and I moved; we began climbing our mountain together.

I fisted his hair and caressed his head as he continued his effort against my body. His teeth raked along the inside of my thighs to torture me a little before returning to his home. I was almost there already.

“Wait,” I panted. “Stop.”

He lifted his head. “Why?”

I held his face in my hands. “Because I want you in every way. Come here and kiss me.”

An inner light glowed from within as he flicked his brows. He licked his lips and wiggled out of his underwear, gliding along my body and resting his heat against my stomach. His mouth left me wet and waiting, and then his soft, sweet lips covered mine. I welcomed the distraction, and together we swelled in each other’s kiss.

As he caressed my breast and teased my nipple, I breathed, “Gabe.”

With the full weight of his body on mine, he pushed himself between my thighs. “Is this what you want?”

My eyes met his hazel stare as he throbbed, hot and hard. “Yes.” I tried to nestle him in deeper, but he resisted. Both his restraint and timing were something I’d always admired. It was no wonder he was so good in the boardroom. The man had a keen eye for reading people and knowing how to play them; I was no exception.

“How much?” He brushed my lips with his.

My body arched toward him, inching him into me. “Enough to take it.”

He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip and withdrew, shaking his head. “Tell me you want me like I want you.”

“I want you. Isn’t it obvious? Now stop teasing me.” I pushed my feet against his butt, but he held firm.

His amusement was splashed across his face. “Tell me you don’t want anyone but me.”

“Who could ever love me like you do? There’s only you.”

With a satisfied smile, he plunged into me, and I cried out in sweet agony. He rocked, and I countered his thrusts to extract every ounce of pleasure, hooking my legs around his hips so he could torment me no more. A slow tingle gained momentum into a full vibration. I buzzed from the inside. I thought of his mouth against my body and felt the domination of every thrust. Passion pounded its way through my blood, my heart, and my head as waves of ecstasy consumed me. Not a moment behind, Gabe gave into himself, and the tension in his chest melted into mine. Skin on skin, we were one.

We settled into our peace and lay still, my head on his chest. He picked up a lock of my hair and caressed it. The faint burn of the street lamp off in the distance was the only light filtering through the window. My eyes got heavy, and I slipped away. I began to dream.

I’d stolen a candy bar. I’d snatched it off the shelf and crammed it in my pocket. I kept trying to sneak a bite, but every time I did, a store clerk was right there watching me, so I couldn’t. I thought about paying for it, but rationalized it was already in my pocket, and if anyone caught me, they’d know I’d been trying to steal it. I was stuck and groaned in irritation, but then a sound yanked me from sleep. Gabe stood next to my bed, locking his belt into place.