Chapter 13
Justin lugged the cloth shopping bags up to her apartment and set them on the kitchen counter where she pointed.
He wanted to linger, especially after the heavy pieces of her past she’d trusted him with, but there were things he needed to take care of.
And she had mentioned the long list of chores that would keep her busy the rest of the afternoon.
“You okay?” he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.
“I am. Thanks.” Her voice was as soft as his. “And … sorry about dumping my stuff on you earlier.”
“I’m not.” His thumb skimmed her cheek. “You trusted me with your hurts. That means a lot, sweetheart. If you want to talk more, call me. Anytime. Yeah?”
“Okay.” She rose onto her toes and pressed a light kiss to his lips.
He felt the pull to deepen it, to lose himself in her for just one more moment, but forced himself to step back, calling on every ounce of restraint he had.
The door clicked shut behind him, and Justin hurried down the stairs. At the bottom step, his security team lead stepped forward, posture alert.
“What happened?” Anders asked.
“I was recognized at the supermarket.” Justin kept walking as he relayed everything. The man with the phone, the rushed walk to the car, trying to keep an eye out for anyone following them, their stop at the cheesecake restaurant.
Anders muttered a few choice curses as the details came out. “Did you see him follow you out of the supermarket?”
Justin shook his head. “I was more focused on getting Suzette out of there. But the Honda was parked in full view of the store windows. If he snapped a picture of her car, it won’t take much to track her here.” His jaw tightened. “I need her protected.”
“I’ll contact Southern Cross Security,” Anders said. “Get additional personnel on-site.”
Their footsteps crunched on the gravel fronting the holiday home as they turned into the small yard.
“Thanks.” Justin blew out a breath. “And you were right. Ditching security was reckless. I got complacent. And worse” — he nodded toward the two vehicles rented under an alias — “I broke protocol using a traceable car.”
Anders gave a crooked smile as he opened the front door. “Let’s not make a habit of it.”
“You have my word.”
He was fine risking his safety, but not Suzette’s. What he said to Anders was true — the anonymity here had made him complacent. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
His next call was to his publicist.
She answered on the first ring. “Tell me you’re calling because you miss my sunshine personality.”
He couldn’t even muster a smile. Emily Waters was many things, but sunshine wasn’t one of them.
“Not today,” Justin said quietly. “I need you on high alert. Someone might have taken pictures of me with … someone. At a grocery store in Stellenbosch.”
He heard the instant shift in her tone — bright to razor-sharp. “Tell me what I need to be on the lookout for.”
“Emily—” His throat tightened unexpectedly. “She’s important to me. Very important.”
A beat of silence. Then a short, incredulous bark of laughter. “Don’t tell me the invincible JK has finally been felled by a woman?”
“Like a hundred-year oak.”
Another telling pause. “Wow. Okay then. I’m on it, JK. Send me her details and a photo or two. I’ve got your back. As always.”
He closed his eyes. “Thanks.”
After the call, after sending images he’s taken during the wedding and adding Suzette’s details, he stepped out onto the balcony and looked toward the hotel. A coil of dread wound tight along his spine. Fame was a double-edged sword. Today, it had swung dangerously close to Suzette.
And he’d do anything to keep it from cutting her.
He really hoped that it did not entail walking away from her.
*
The next morning, a soft knock on the open office door was followed by an excited, “Mies Suzette, he’s here.” Alma’s broad grin practically swallowed her face.
Suzette’s heart somersaulted. One hard, traitorous flip she felt all the way to her toes. “Thanks, Alma,” she managed, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
Their day yesterday had ended on a low note, and she needed to clear the air. No more unfinished moments hanging between them. He’d said he heard the unspoken message — she would never be second to another man again.
There could never be anything between them.
It was unrealistic to think otherwise.
The thought twisted through her as she closed the spreadsheet and rose from her chair, smoothing a hand down her blouse as if that might quiet the flutter in her chest.
A quick detour through the kitchen to collect his order — Chef’s Special — and she stepped out onto the patio, sunlight spilling across the wooden planks as she made her way toward him.
Every step felt like a contradiction.
Part of her wanted to retreat, to protect the fragile places he kept reaching for. The other part — the reckless, hopeful part — carried her forward.
He sat with his back to her, cap in place, the curls at his nape escaping through the gap above the Velcro strap. One forearm rested along the armrest, relaxed, the sun glinting off his watch in brief, bright flashes. He looked so at ease, so unaware of the storm twisting through her.
She resisted the sudden, treacherous urge to throw caution to the wind and simply embrace everything he was offering. To step into that easy warmth, that steady presence, and let herself fall.
But she knew better.
Life had taught her better.
She tightened her grip on the plate, the heat seeping into her palms as she crossed the space between them, bracing herself for whatever came next.
The instant smile that lit his face when she set the plate in front of him only sent those inconvenient flutters skittering through her chest all over again. “Well, hello, sweet Suze. I thought I’d have to come searching for you today.”
She eased into the chair set at an angle to his, careful to keep things light even though her pulse was misbehaving. “Morning, Justin. Breakfast is on me today. I dumped some heavy stuff on you yesterday.”
“I’m strong,” he replied simply. “I can help you carry your load.”
She let out a long, helpless sigh. “Why do you do that? Say such nice things?”
His smile faded into something quieter, steadier. “Because I mean it, Suzette. Every word.”
He leaned in just a fraction, close enough that she felt the weight of his attention settle warmly between them, but not enough to crowd her. “You shared something raw with me yesterday. That wasn’t a burden — it was trust. And I take that seriously.”
Her breath caught. Darn it. This man. He was killing her sensibilities.
*
Hoping, praying he was getting his intentions across, Justin added, “I’m not trying to impress you. I’m trying to show you who I am. And that I’m here … if you want me to be.”
“Until you leave.”
“I have to go back.”
The flicker of disappointment crossing her face was quick, but he caught it — a tiny crack in her composure that hit him harder than it should have.
“For now.” He forced a steadiness into his voice, tried to thread hope into the space between them, to let her see the truth beneath it — the worry he couldn’t hide, and the quiet, desperate plea for her not to pull away.
Especially after the blow he needed to share with her.
She threw her hands up, exasperation bursting through her composure. “Surely you weren’t serious when you talked about buying a place here.”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
“Why?”
Her voice cracked on the word, not with drama but with genuine bewilderment. Like she couldn’t fathom why anyone would choose her, choose this, choose the quiet life she’d built out of ashes.
And it hit him again just how deep those old wounds ran.
And how careful he needed to be with her.
He didn’t smile as he continued. “I’ve lived a charmed, glamorous life.
At least on the outside. But once the credits roll, I’m alone.
It’s … lonely.” His gaze drifted briefly toward the horizon before returning to her.
“My mother once said a soulmate isn’t someone who completes your script, but someone who makes you forget you ever had one. ”
He huffed out a soft breath, something like a laugh but not quite. “My father was her love, and she never married again after he passed away. Said she’d already had her leading man.” His eyes held hers, steady and unflinching. “I’ve never found that. Not once.”
His voice softened. “Not until you walked up to me in that airport terminal.” He shook his head slightly, almost in disbelief. “Hard to imagine it’s only been a month. Feels like my life split into before you … and after you.”
A charged beat passed.
“You might not believe it yet,” he went on, “but I’m starting to think you’re my soulmate, Suzette. My leading lady. And if this” — he gestured gently to the hotel, the ocean, her world — “is where you need to be … then it’s where I want to be too.”
He paused, letting the truth settle between them. “It’ll take time to honor the commitments I’ve already made. But after that … I’m willing to walk away from that life. To embrace something different.” His voice dropped, rough with sincerity. “Something with you at the center.”
She would always be center. He’d make sure it.
“Justin,” she whispered, the sound barely carrying across the small space between them. “You’re not playing fair.”
“There’s nothing fair about fighting for what you want,” he said gently, though a quiet steel threaded his words. “And what I’m asking — begging, if I’m honest — is that you don’t dismiss what’s growing between us.”
He drew a breath, forcing himself to hold her gaze even as fear scraped at the inside of his ribs. He wanted, so badly, to protect her from the ugliness that goes with his life, but that wouldn’t be honest of him. And Suzette deserved honesty.
“I need to tell you something about yesterday.” His chest tightened. “Something that might decide … us for you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What about yesterday?”
“I think we were photographed,” he said.
She slumped back. “At the supermarket?”
His nod was reluctant.
“Wait.” Her eyes narrowed. “You said … think?”
“He had a cellphone aimed in our direction at the checkout.”
“Maybe it was coincidental.”
“I’m hoping that’s the case.”
“But you don’t think so.”
“I don’t, no.” He exhaled. “King Security pulled the store’s surveillance. The man moved to the window when we left, but it’s unclear whether he took photos from there.”
It only took her a moment to connect the dots. “So … it’s possible he could trace me through my car’s registration.”
“It’s possible. I’m sorry, Suzette. Truly.”
“Is anything online?”
“Not yet. I warned my publicist. She’ll tell me the second anything surfaces.”
She tipped her head back, staring up at the ceiling. He wished he could read her mind. When she finally looked at him again, her expression was unreadable. “If the images do surface,” she asked quietly, “what do you intend to do?”
“That’s up to you,” he said as softly. “We can spin a story, lean on the family angle. I’m taking a break, visiting your beautiful part of the world.
Make it clear we were just two friends running errands.
There was nothing in our behavior to suggest otherwise.
I leave after New Year.” His throat closed and he forced the words out. “And never come back.”
He paused, drawing a steadying breath.
“Or … we can be open and say we met at a wedding and are taking some time to explore our feelings for each other.” His gaze searched hers, hated that the next words were necessary.
“That will put you in the limelight. You’ll be talked about.
Your past will be dissected. Some people will vilify you, and for that, I am truly sorry. ”
The moment the words left his mouth, his gut clenched.
What kind of selfish bastard was he? Chasing his own wants, his own desire for her, while pushing her into a danger she never asked for.
He’d shoved her straight into the crosshairs.
“As much as I talk about withdrawing from the industry — and I am prepared to do that — the hard truth is that I’d always be JK Kenzie. ”
He dragged a hand over his face, then down the back of his neck, the weight of it all pressing on him.
“Believe me, if I could go back and rewrite my history, I would. But I can’t.
” His voice lowered. “What I can do is protect you. I’ve already contracted extra security. You won’t be harmed. Not physically.”
Brows raised, she said, “You really know how to charm a woman, Justin.”
“Again—”
She lifted a hand, stopping him. “Yes, you’re sorry. Yet you came here knowing full well this could happen. And it didn’t stop you.”
Her words landed like a blow, his gut dropping. “No. It didn’t.”
“Why?”
“You woke something in me, Suzette. And yeah, I’m a selfish bastard, because I wanted more,” he admitted, voice rough. “I wanted to get to know you. Really know you. To see if what I felt — that spark, that pull — wasn’t just in my head.”
He reached toward her before he could stop himself, then forced his hand back down. “Not taking that chance? That would’ve been the biggest mistake of my life.”