The Movie Star's Red Hot Holiday Fling: A novella (Entangled Indulgence) (Sweetbriar Springs) (3 page)

Chapter Three

Jessie’s lungs screamed for air, but she refused to slow down after convincing Blake to compromise his ten miles to run the five-mile trail with her. He’d agreed after she’d said yes to using her sister Hannah’s massage lotion on her leg.

“You still think your sister’s stuff is for sissies?” Blake called over his shoulder.

Hannah had given Blake a basket of samples when she’d run into him the night before. Sometimes having her entire family live and work on the property could be a real pain in the tuchus.

She smelled a hint of the lavender in the ointment’s lingering scent, which also evoked a sexy memory flash of Blake’s gentle, yet firm, touch on her skin. A memory that made her insides tumble with glee.

The initial shock of cold when they’d first started the run had been replaced by the blood pumping through her veins, warming her from the inside out. A warmth that had more to do with the man running next to her than exercise. “Heck, if the lotion’s good enough for you, I figure it’s got to have something going for it.” She drew in a deep breath of icy air and stared at his extremely awesome derriere.

He shot her a look over his shoulder. “That cream could be marketed in wellness spas all over the world. Massage therapists would love it.”

Oh, she would love a massage of a different kind with Blake Johnston. All kinds of sexy fantasies popped into her brain as she ran through the evergreens lining the trail. Wind rustled and snow drifted from their branches, landing on her nose, eyelashes, and cheeks. She shook them off and wished she could do the same for her decadent thoughts. Because Blake was wrong for her and ten million miles out of her league. But he hadn’t flinched when he’d smoothed his hands across her leg’s scar tissue.

Stand down. Stop staring. Switch subjects.
“So besides midnight chats with my mom, aka the master manipulator, why do you want to work out with me?” she asked.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a parent to son chat. I’ll take a surrogate like your mother every day of the week.”

“I see,” she said. Of course Blake had been drawn to her mother’s cozy, down to earth, and ready acceptance. Jessie wondered how long it had been since he’d experienced it—or if he ever had known the simplicity of a parent’s undivided attention given how eagerly he’d taken to her family.

Blake slowed his pace, letting her catch up to him. “You deserve to get into the fire academy. Even though you’re pricklier than a porcupine facing down a semi truck barreling down I-40.”

She heard the respect in his voice as well as the hint of humor underscoring his words. He accepted her as she was today, and had no expectation of her returning to whom she’d been before she’d joined the Marine Corps.

A crazy exhilaration swirled through her, making her dizzy. Jessie waited a beat until she regained her internal equilibrium. “I’ll cut you some slack,” she said. And she’d stop snarling at her family. Maybe then she’d find a way to truly forgive herself.

“Don’t get too soft on me. I’d miss the sparring.”

For some inexplicable reason, she wanted to believe him. “Good to know,” she huffed before rushing ahead of him. “Beat you to the lodge.”

He raced after her. Early rays of sun reflected on the ground as they rounded the final curve and entered the lodge’s expansive, snow-covered lawn.

“Hell of a picture.” Blake jogged in place, his breath misting the air. “Would make a great movie location.”

He didn’t even sound like he’d broken a sweat. The man was a physical machine—and so good-looking he could defrost the ground. Her insides hummed with awareness, though not loud enough to mask the pain stabbing her leg. Would she ever be free of the constant reminder that she wasn’t up to par? “I doubt Quinn Sawyer’s next mission will involve a rustic lodge nestled in the mountains of North Carolina.” She scanned the distance, jogged to avoid aggravating the scar tissue. “Unless he’s going to battle the chipmunk population.”

He shot her an enigmatic look and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “You’d be surprised where Quinn Sawyer might turn up next.”

“Considering I’m working out with one of the most eligible heartthrobs in Hollywood, I’ve had enough surprises for one week.”

“I’m not the most eligible, just the least accessible.”

“Ha. What about that last starlet you dated?”

He slowed his tempo to a walk. “Arranged by the studio.”

Jessie strolled next to him toward the lodge. “Please don’t tell me you’re gay. Though I’m cool with it if you are,” she teased.

“Straight as an arrow,” he said. “Just haven’t got time for love, marriage, and kids.”

“Neither do I,” she said. And she doubted that anyone would want her now that she was damaged goods.

Ahead she spotted the resort’s assistant manager Zach Tanner leaning against a column and talking to her friend. “Kennedy had better watch out. That guy’s trouble with a capital
T
and an exclamation point.”

“Who?”

“My brother’s latest stray.” She kicked a rock, watched it skitter across the ground. “Michael brought Zach home last summer. Now he’s like the second son my mother never had—as if we aren’t always packed to the rafters with kids and pets and guests.”

“Your mother’s got a knack for sniffing out strays. One I appreciate. And she’s given Maisey and me a way to connect with our mother. The high school yearbooks, old photographs, and stories she’s shared have given us a new way of remembering our mom.”

“Point made.” Jessie couldn’t fault her mother for reaching out and drawing people in to her fold. Not when the most recent Shannon Sullivan stray turned out to be the man beside her. “But I worry about Kennedy.”

“I see her when she works the breakfast shift with Zach,” Blake said. “I’m sure she can handle anything he’s got in mind.”

Which right now was a kiss. A long, lingering, mouth-to-mouth lock that fused them into one. Tension knotted at the back of her neck. “He’s going to break her heart.” She kicked another stone.

“She’ll survive.”

“Yeah, and she’ll have no trouble finding another guy to replace Zach. She’s gorgeous, funny, smart.” Jessie whacked the stone again. “Everyone loves Kennedy.” Unlike her.

“Jealous much?” Blake asked.

“She’s everything I’m not. At least not anymore,” she said. “I’m not strong. I was never beautiful. And now I’m not even whole.”

Blake stopped her. “You’re a hero. A war-decorated Marine. From where I stand, I see a beautiful, somewhat snarky, damned amazing woman. Don’t ever think less of yourself because of the scars on your leg. They tell a story. I respect and admire the hell out of you for your service, your sacrifice.”

The reality of that terrible day thundered through her ears, crashed against her temples, and threatened to scatter her back to the four corners of the world. She couldn’t cross the bridge to fill the gaps in her mind. Gaps that had the power of shrapnel to shred the few remaining pieces of normalcy she’d managed to stitch back together.

Worry creased lines into his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Every beat of her heart pounded a horrible tympani in her ears. “The sad truth is I didn’t earn the medals, not even the Purple Heart. You deserve to wear it more than I do.” She couldn’t suppress the sick feeling churning in her stomach.

“Hell no.” He shook his head. “I’m just a commercial commodity who plays a military hero. But you? You’re the real deal.”

She clasped Blake’s hand, wanting an anchor. Searched his face for the strength to drag her ugliness to the surface, read the unwavering support as an opening to reveal her secret. “I’m no hero,” she whispered. “I’m just a bitch of a Marine who can’t forget that the only reason I’m standing here is because my team leader saved my ass.”

…

Blake rolled back on his heels. His gut clenched as he digested Jessie’s words. He’d never heard her talk this way. Snarky? Check. Sassy? Double check. Sarcastic? Triple check. But defeated? That tone of voice had no place in her Richter scale of communication.

“What happened?” he asked. The sun’s hot rays on his exposed neck were a warm counterpoint to the chill creeping up his spine.

“The device shouldn’t have blown,” she said. “We all thought it was a routine dismantle. Just your everyday booby trap with a blasting cap, rubber, and some wires sticking out. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.”

She sounded small, scared, soulless. “But it did,” he said.

Her shoulders drooped. “The guys were ribbing my team leader—Rodriguez—about letting a woman do all the heavy lifting. He told them to cut the crap.” She smiled a little at the memory. “The cap teetered. I got it under control, but something was off. Before I could figure it out, Rodriguez shouted. I turned to see him run toward me. He slammed against me, and then boom. He went flying. I caught the tail end of the blast. Blood everywhere. Constanza screaming. Woodall mopping up the mess, radioing for medics, and carrying us one by one to the JERRV truck to shield us from potential enemy fire.”

His lungs pressed against his sternum. He’d only experienced acting through that kind of chaos. Jessie’s personal background of that type of carnage staggered him. “Where’s Rodriguez?”

“Not where he belongs. Not home. And not with his family,” she whispered, her voice clinging to the edge of a sharp point. “I want to remember what went wrong, but I’m terrified to face it. What if I screwed something up? What if Rodriguez is dead because of me, and I’m the one who should be six feet under? What if my mom’s the parent who should have a folded American flag in a shadow box? Not Rodriguez’s wife. Not his two little girls.” Her smoky eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them break through the dam.

Blake’s heart clenched. The weight she carried was too great a burden, the guilt unfairly shouldered. “Jessie.” He caressed her cheek. “You need to talk to someone. There are doctors…”

“I’m tired of doctors and hospitals and well-meaning, encouraging words. I don’t want to be treated like a specimen in a petri dish. I don’t want people poking and probing and prodding me anymore. I want…” She closed her eyes and two rebel tears traveled down her cheek, dampening his fingers.

The rustling of the trees, the heat of the sun on his back, and the mountains in the distance evaporated. There was only this time. This space. And this woman standing before him with the strength of a warrior, but with her heart vulnerable and exposed and anticipating.

“What do you want?” he asked.

She opened her beautiful gray-blue eyes and tears glistened on her black-as-night lashes. “I want someone to hold me,” she said. “Not because I’m wounded. Not because I’m alive. But because I’m me.”

Something shifted inside Blake. A fierce desire to protect Jessie, to offer her more than the comfort of his arms around her, rushed through him. He fought to suppress the force of his attraction and contain the forbidden, emerging emotions.

This proud, obstinate, and fiery woman deserved a worthy man. It wasn’t him.

With his life at a crossroads, he couldn’t offer her more than a brief escape. But damn it all to hell, he couldn’t deny her, or himself, any longer. Not when she’d flayed her soul.

His heart punched him in the solar plexus. She’d called him a hero. Though he was wrong for her, and he shouldn’t act on his attraction, Blake wanted to be the man who lived up to her expectations. At least for now.

He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “I’ve got you, Jessie.” Blake kissed the top of her head, inhaled her unique scent, felt the spasm of sorrow travel through her slender frame.

Her arms coiled around his waist. “Don’t let go.”

The sound of her soft keening, the desperation of her grip on him, undid him. “I won’t.” He tilted her face upward and swiped the tears from her cheeks. Her chin wobbled, and her breath misted the air between them.

Time slowed. He heard every rough beat of his heart, felt the fire building in his groin, and the desire he’d banked roared to life. “I couldn’t stop even if I tried.” He lowered his lips to touch hers and tasted the salt of her sorrow.

Chapter Four

“You can’t possibly want me,” Jessie protested, but the tension knotting her shoulders unwound as Blake’s lips moved over hers.

For over six months after leaving her stateside rehab center and returning to Sweetbriar Springs, Jessie had felt imprisoned by her internal fears about what had happened the day the bomb exploded. She’d been unable to move forward, and yet desperate to regain some measure of who she’d been before her grievous injuries. Applying for the fire academy two months ago had been the first tentative step toward that goal. But this kiss, the soothing touch of Blake’s lips against hers, unleashed the very essence she’d lost. And for the first time in what seemed like decades, Jessie felt alive.

Truly, wonderfully, fantastically alive.

Blake’s tongue glided along the seam of her lips, parting them. Jessie sighed, wanting only his possession. Wanting his powerful body melded to hers. His strong hands glided up and down her back, bringing her closer. Everything inside her somersaulted into a wild need for more. More of him. More of his sensual kiss’s promise.

Blake was as delicious and decadent as she’d expected. His incredible control intoxicated her. She opened herself to him, tasting mint and man. Hungry. Insatiable. Starving for his possession.

The world tilted on its axis beneath her feet. She held on, believing in the sizzling spell Blake had cast. Over and over they kissed, the intensity deepening with each sweep of his tongue against hers. Jessie lost all ability to think, her mind muddled by the exciting movement of his hips against hers. The ridge of his arousal pressed against her pelvis. And her sex ached exquisitely, as if she’d been made to answer his masculine call to action.

She leaned against him, wanting to ease the building ache. Pain sliced through her leg, bit into her thigh with its razor sharp teeth.
Ignore it. Pretend it doesn’t exist. Stay in the dream.
Unfortunately, fairy tales were for children, and Jessie’s bubble—the fantasy of being woman enough for a man like Blake Johnston—popped as soon as she winced.

He broke their physical connection, raking his fingers through his tousled blond hair. “Shit. I’m an ass. You’ve got to get inside, rub down that leg.”

The only rubdown she wanted was one that involved Blake. By the way he’d backed down, she figured he’d realized the gargantuan mistake of playing tonsil hockey with her. She wasn’t his usual type. His type was glamor, glitz, and golden.

She was maimed, battle-scarred, and royally messed up. “This shouldn’t have happened.” Jessie pushed the words past the ball of emotion constricting her throat. “You were just being nice. I appreciate it, but I don’t need any more mercy kisses.” Better she retreat first rather than be rejected again.

She turned to go, but he caught her arm. “Kissing you wasn’t about me being nice. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I want you?”

“Then why treat me like spun glass?”

“Because acting on this attraction between us isn’t good for you.”

“Who are you to tell me what’s good for me?” She jerked from his grip. “The explosion may have rattled my brain, but my hormones didn’t blast into outer space. I know what I want—what I need.”

“You deserve more than a casual affair, Jessie. You deserve a man who can give you a future. I can’t be that guy,” he said.

“Again. Memo to the male brain currently not working properly. I’m not interested in a permanent arrangement. I’ve got a physical to pass and a life to jump-start.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Why can’t this be about having fun?”

Blake’s brow creased. “You want to have fun?” he asked. “No strings attached?”

“Why not? I want you.” She peeked down, then back at his face. “And it appears that the other half of your brain wants to have a little fun, too.”

He covered his erection. “I like you, Jessie,” Blake said. “Even though you’re obstinate, stubborn, and mule-headed.”

“Gee, thanks for the compliment.”

Blake tilted his head, regarding her. “You’re also tough, motivated, and stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. But I’ve heard women claim they don’t want a future, then change their minds. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m a big girl, Blake. I don’t want forever,” Jessie said. “I won’t limp after you when you return to Hollyweird in the new year.”

She waited a beat, then another, as Blake held her riveted with his gleaming green eyes. When he didn’t answer her, she crossed her fingers inside her pockets. He’d said he wanted her, but he’d retreated because he was afraid he’d break her heart.

Her heart wasn’t on the line. It was the fervent desire to be wanted, to be seen as more than a problem to be solved, to be the object of Blake’s attention. And being with him, letting herself be touched and tasted and taken by this gorgeous man, might help her find a way back to herself. Back to the woman she’d been and maybe restore the strength she’d need to embrace a new life—a different future than she’d planned—here in Sweetbriar Springs.

The place from which she’d once wanted to escape. But that had brought her to the brink of disaster. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. Being with Blake offered her a way out—albeit a temporary one—and she wanted to feel like a woman of worth again.

…

Blake watched the play of emotions on Jessie’s face. The tough stance she’d taken when she’d jammed her fists in her fleece jacket’s pockets hadn’t fooled him. Not. One. Bit. He’d caught the slight movement of her fingers crossing and heard the underpinning of fear in her voice. The sting of her internal throbbing panic, the storm gathering in her expressive gray-blue eyes, unhinged him.

She was terrified of being rejected. And yet he knew with every thundering beat of his heart that if he acted on the attraction drawing him to her, he’d risk inflicting collateral damage.

Damage he wanted to avoid. Damage he wanted to minimize. Damage he wanted to outmaneuver.

Because the feisty Marine standing in front of him, all sassy attitude and wickedly tantalizing in her figure-hugging spandex black pants, moved him in ways that unsettled him. And that sent a dangerous signal to his brain. The fallout of this so-called holiday fling Jessie proposed could damage him, too.

But when Jessie slanted her strong-as-steel eyes suggestively, licked her luscious lips, and cocked her hip at a sexy angle, he knew what to do.

He wanted her. And if he showed her how beautiful she was to him, maybe she’d realize how much more she deserved from a different man. Because his life could upend in less than a month, should his franchise refuse to let him change his career’s direction.

His mind warred with the desire pulsing between them. The sweet, tantalizing pull of attraction won. He couldn’t be the guy worthy of someone like Jessie, but he could be the guy who set her free to discover the right one.

“You want to have fun?” he asked. “I say we start with a date that doesn’t involve gym shorts and barbells.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You heard me.” He framed her face with his palms. “As it turns out, the most eligible bachelor in
Hollyweird
doesn’t have a date to his sister’s wedding. You game?”

She blinked and her mouth fell open, then she snapped it shut and gave her head a little shake.

“What? You turning me down?”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” she mumbled.

“Not a problem.” He wanted to nibble her lip, kiss her again. But now that he’d taken charge, he’d make sure she was 100 percent romanced before they moved on to having
fun.
“I happen to have a lot of resources at my disposal.”

Her pulse fluttered in her throat. She looked left, right, left again. “Won’t my attending the reception mess up your sister’s wedding arrangements?”

His pulse drummed in his ears. She was so adorable when she was flustered. “I’m paying for it.” Blake refused to take “no” for an answer. “Shouldn’t be a problem to add your plate to the tab.”

“I’m on kitchen duty that night.”

“Jessie, I’m sure your mom will let you come out and play.”

“I suppose.”

A hint of hopeful expectation danced alongside her hesitation. Would she ever believe that the only thing he saw standing in front of him was a tight, sexy-as-hell, gorgeous package?

There was one way for her to find out how much he wanted to unwrap her, layer by sexy layer.

Show her.

He pressed his lips against her delicate ear. “We’ll skip our workout tomorrow morning. You’ll need time to get ready, ’cause it’ll be a long night.”

He saw the hairs on her nape rise. Heard her sudden intake of breath. “How long?” she whispered.

“As long as you want it to be,” he answered.

“And afterward?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of ways to fill the time.” Blake nibbled her earlobe. “We should make the most of every minute.”