Chapter 22
Sutton
I’m warm. My belly is full, my leg all better, yet I’m on edge, because a ten-year-old is sweeping me up in a game of poker.
“Full house,” James says, placing his cards on the table.
Chuckling, I throw my cards down. “You’re a shark!” How the hell does this kid know how to play poker so well?
“He’s good.” Nikki nods, her expression gleaming with pride from where she stands in the kitchen doorway, watching.
“How did you get so good?” I’m in awe. If he keeps playing, he’ll rule Vegas for sure.
“I was stuck in my room a lot, so I played cards to pass the time.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
These two are so unique. I still haven’t gotten to the bottom of why she’s building a fucking wind turbine out of junk, but the fact that she is, that’s astounding. How does anyone know how to do that?
“Yeah, when I’m stuck in my room, I just watch TV.”
Looking glum, he admits, “I wasn’t allowed.” Again, another piece of their life falls from his lips, and I pocket the information away for later.
“Looks like you gained an amazing skill through it, though. I just wasted my brain watching TV and movies.”
“No, you didn’t.” Nikki steps over to us, frowning at me. “All those hours of TV are probably what got you so interested in acting. You were studying the craft, watching how others did it. You used Social Learning Theory.”
“Social what?” As usual, I have no idea what she’s talking about, and I could hang on to every word she speaks.
“It's a concept in psychology, emphasizing that people learn through observation, imitation, and modeling.” Her words come to me with warmth. There she goes again, spouting these highly intellectual facts like she’s asking me to pass the butter.
“Sawyer just told me I was wasting my time.” I think back to those days when his head was always in a book, studying for exams or tests, trying hard to get his law degree.
Me? I was laid out on the sofa, a bowl of potato chips balanced on my chest, watching whatever TV show or movie was on at the time.
“Everyone learns differently. I bet Sawyer is probably a cognitive learner. Someone who absorbs and processes information through reading and thinking.”
She’s right. He is. But I never knew there were other ways. I just felt like the dumb brother. For most of my life, people have told me that my looks would only get me so far. Well, so far, they led me to Hollywood to be a global movie star, and right now, they’ve led me to her.
“Social Learning Theory…” I murmur, wanting to remember it. “How do you learn?”
“Good question. I’m probably like Sawyer. I was pretty studious at school. Always had my head in a book.”
“Like you,” I tell James, and he nods. They’re both textbook fiends.
James yawns, and I look at my watch. It’s getting late.
“I’m going to bed,” James says, giving his sister a hug, and I offer my fist.
“Night, Sutton.” He fist-bumps me, then wanders down the small hall, and I hear his door close.
Turning to Nikki, I smile. “He’s a good kid.”
She gives me a small smile in return. She’s not telling me everything; I can feel it. But I don’t expect her to. Considering they could be anyone, though, I feel extremely comfortable here, in her home, in her presence.
“I love him. I would put my life down for his.” There’s something about the way she says those words that makes me think that might be a choice she has to make in the future. I don’t like it one bit.
“Is that something you need to consider?”
She bites the inside of her lip. “I hope not.”
Well, that doesn’t leave me feeling any more settled.
“Sawyer thinks you might have a record.”
Her eyes widen. “Like, a criminal record?”
When I nod, she laughs, and then snorts, making me grin. “Not yet,” she teases.
“His bruised ego for rejecting his job had him thinking all kinds of things, I’m sure.” I watch her, waiting to see how much she’ll tell me.
“I need a cash job. I can’t be traceable. Rochelle provides that. And I want to be close to the school… I don’t ever want to be away from James.”
I pull in a sharp breath. She’s doing all this for that kid. She herself is an adult, so she can go anywhere, do anything she wants. But she won't leave him.
“My turn to ask some questions…”
Surprised, I nod. “Sure.”
“What’s a global movie star hiding from that he’s here in Whispers, sitting in my little garden cottage on an old timber chair?”
That has me sighing. “Well, starting tomorrow, I’m working on a top secret project with Tanner and Connor at the distillery.”
“But that isn’t what brought you here was it?”
I forgot how smart she was.
“No, it wasn’t.” Taking a deep breath, I clear my throat. “The media was getting increasingly intense in LA. It made it almost impossible to stay there. Weird things kept happening…”
“What kind of weird things?”
I can’t help but wince before sharing. “I got home from a trip I took to Cabo and found a young girl naked in my bed.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Is that a common theme among movie stars?”
“Nope. This one was underage. Not sure how she got in, and not sure why. I had my security team with me who dealt with it, but now I can’t even walk into my own home without them completing a thorough sweep. It’s creepy. Doesn't feel like my safe place anymore.”
“Your house?” she asks softly.
“LA.” As I speak it, the truth hits me. LA isn’t home anymore. It’s not the sanctuary I need now. And it hasn’t been for a long time.
She nods like she understands. “I guess fans can be crazy.”
I frown in thought. “I went out for dinner a few nights before I landed here in Whispers. My driver hit a young man. We were going slow, just pulling out from the curb, but this guy got up, smiled, waved, and walked off like nothing happened. The next day, it was all over the media that he ended up in the hospital with a broken leg and my name was plastered everywhere for all the wrong reasons.”
Her smile falters a little. “Coincidence?” She’s smart; I should’ve known she would come to the same conclusion as I did.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I shrug. I have no idea if my fans are just too fanatical, or if someone is deliberately trying to drag my name through the mud. But a hit-and-run and spending alone time with an underage girl are crimes, and I don’t want to be pinned for something I didn’t do.
“So we’re both in hiding…” she concludes, though we already knew that.
“Here at this little cottage…” I whisper.
“In Whispers…”
The fact that we’re both in the same circumstance has us feeling more connected than I have with anyone else. I have her back and I know she has mine. A low rumble of thunder rolls through the sky outside, and I know I should probably go.
“I’ll text Sawyer to come get me.” I don’t want to. I want to stay here with her all night. But she has to be up early tomorrow for work, and she already looks tired.
“Here.” She passes me her phone, since mine is broken from the fall. I send him a quick text before passing her cell back.
“I’ll make sure he deletes your number,” I tell her.
“Thank you. But I’m okay with Sawyer having my number. I trust you. I trust him by association.”
My heart swirls at that. “I’ll never break your trust.”
She swallows, biting her lip as my eyes canvass her body, appreciating every inch of her.
“I should pack up.” As she stands, leaning over me to scrape together all the playing cards, my hands move before I think.
“Come here…” My voice cracks a little as I grab her waist, turning her to face me.
I hear her sharp intake of breath as I sit forward.
Her low height in comparison to my large frame puts her not too much taller as I sit at her side.
I glide my hands up her curves and back down again, getting a feel for her as her hands land on my forearms.
“Sutton?” Her eyes search mine, full of heat, as her body leans toward me a little more.
“You’re pretty fucking amazing, Tinker Bell.”
She’s tentative, but as her hands trail up my arms and settle on my neck, it’s like she’s telling me I’m safe in her arms too.
This is what I need. Maybe I just need another taste of her, another touch.
Maybe this infatuation I seem to have developed is all in my head.
Maybe one night with her and it’ll be all out of my system…
“You’re not too bad yourself.” Her voice becomes even quieter, if that’s possible, like she's too scared to say what she really thinks. Not because she’s shy, but if I could hazard a guess, it’s because she’s running from someone who’s told her she can’t be the person she is.
I lower my hands to her ass and down one of her thighs, lifting her leg from behind her knee so she straddles me, before she lowers onto my lap.
She relaxes against me, and I grip under her knees to slide her body up my thighs until her hips hit mine.
That’s one benefit of our size difference; I can put her anywhere I want to.
She swallows, her neck right in my line of sight.
My dick pulses right underneath her, and her hips shift in response.
“That’s a little better,” I hum, looking up at her.
“What now?” Her question holds many meanings. What now for right now? What now, as in what the hell are we doing? What now, as in, where’s this going?
“Right now… right now, I want your lips on mine.” The words barely leave my lips before I’m claiming hers.
With a sigh, her hands delve into my hair, and I pull her flush against me, our mouths searching each other’s before I delve my tongue inside.
It felt good to kiss her in the rain the other day.
It feels fucking fantastic to taste her right now.
My whole body melts completely when she’s in my arms, my stress and worries leaving me instantly.