Chapter Eleven
Ridge
I was stunned when Beverly left the movie set. She claimed she wasn’t feeling well. And when I called her later that night, she took it a step further and told me she couldn’t accompany me to the party over the weekend.
But I could see right through her. I’d hurt her feelings somehow by not giving her a kiss. I didn’t realize how important it was to her. The woman is a diehard romanticist. My bad.
Wanting to give her a little breather to think things over, I accepted the distance she put between us. However, that didn’t stop me from sending her another bouquet of sunflowers and a delivery of chicken soup with a note saying, “Feel better soon. With fondness, Ridge.”
I thought she might send me a thank-you text for my thoughtfulness. Isn’t that what polite Southern girls do? But after two days without a response, I knew she had closed the door between us. And I was devastated.
Looking back, I should’ve kissed her. I should’ve let down my guard and pressed my mouth to her soft, rose-colored lips and melded our bodies together in a romantic embrace.
I should’ve begged her to accompany me to the wrap party.
But in hindsight, maybe it was best she hadn’t come.
The party turned out to be like every other dull studio gathering, with celebrities preening and drinking way too much. Beverly would’ve hated it.
Should’a, would’a, could’a… I feel like a man who allowed a brilliant jewel to slip through his fingers into the deep end of the ocean.
“Knock, knock,” Arthur says, bringing me out of my funk as he enters my hotel room. “All of your luggage is loaded in the car. The driver is ready to take you to the airport whenever you’re ready.” He hands me my room key and smiles.
“Thank you, Arthur.” I stand, resting my hands on my hips. “You don’t have any, uh, messages for me, do you?” I tilt my chin into the air, hoping he can’t read between the lines.
“No, sir.”
I disappointedly exhale a puff of air through my nose and look at the carpet. “Very well. I’ll be down in a few.”
“I’ll see you back in LA after my brief respite.”
“That’s right, you’re headed to New York for a few days. Well, have some fun. You deserve it.” I slap a hand across his shoulder and squeeze.
“Thank you, Captain.” He starts toward the door but stops and turns around. “You know, your flight doesn’t leave for another few hours. The driver waiting for you downstairs is the same one who took you to Beverly’s home last week.”
I stare back at him, aware of the slight twinkle in his beady little eyes. I know exactly what he’s doing.
I chuckle and run a hand through my hair. “Nice try, wise guy. But you forgot one crucial detail.”
“What?”
“Beverly is at school. It’s a weekday and she’s teaching.”
Arthur clasps his hands together and nods.
“Ah, that’s right. Well, I recall the same driver also took you to the school on more than one occasion during filming.
I’m sure the administrators will remember you and graciously grant you a hall pass.
Now I know you didn’t ask for it, but in my humble opinion, I think you should pay our Lovely a little visit so you can have a proper goodbye. ”
“You’re right, I didn’t ask for your opinion. And I’m pretty sure Beverly doesn’t ever want to see me again.”
Arthur cocks his head and smiles. “Oh, Captain. My sweet, talented, foolish friend, she does. Believe me, she does.”
***
Joan, the friendly school secretary escorts me through the vacant hallways.
She stops in front of a closed door decorated in an autumn theme.
The construction paper cutouts of pumpkins, leaves, and children’s hands are adorable, with hand shapes made to look like turkeys featuring little eyes and beaks added to each thumb.
I smile.
“This is Miss Adler’s classroom,” she whispers.
I can hear children’s chatter and Beverly from inside saying something like “criss-cross applesauce.”
“I’ll gladly watch over her students while you have a word with her,” the secretary says. Her face is flushed, and I swear she’s batting her lashes at me.
“Thank you very much,” I reply.
Joan nods with eagerness, then gently knocks and slips inside. I continue to wait for a few seconds before Beverly exits the room, a look of confusion highlighting her face.
“Ridge? What is it? What’s wrong?”
For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss for words, the sight of Beverly stopping me in my tracks.
Her face is flawless, the rosy hue of her cheeks indicating she’s slightly embarrassed by my unannounced visit during school hours.
Her dark hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, the long strands spilling over one shoulder.
She’s wearing an evergreen sweater dress with black leggings and well-worn boots.
She reminds me of a fresh-faced Ralph Lauren model, not a thirty-something kindergarten teacher.
Beverly is beyond surface-level beauty—she’s the real deal.
And she’s absolutely gorgeous.
“Ridge?”
I clear my throat. “Yes. I’m sorry to disturb you during school hours. But I had to see you before my flight back to LA.”
I watch her shoulders sag. And was that a flash of disappointment in her eyes?
I lean low, my voice laced with borderline desperation. “Is there somewhere private we could talk? It will only take a few minutes.”
She hesitates. “Sure. Follow me.”
We walk through a familiar hallway, our steps on the tiles echoing in tandem with my beating heart. It’s go time.
I blink back a huge grin when I realize she’s brought me to the library.
She takes a key from her lanyard and unlocks the door.
There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. Mrs. Hash isn’t even at the circulation desk.
The quiet sanctuary with the distinct smell of old books is strangely comforting, and I’m glad to be back.
Beverly waves me forward, and I follow her to the last row of shelves. We walk all the way to the end, where no one can see us, even if they do come in.
“We can talk here but make it quick. I need to get back to my class,” she whispers.
“Great.”
“Mrs. Hash is at lunch, but she’ll be returning soon.”
I lean against a shelf and wait for her to settle, her nervous pacing adorable.
“Why are you here, Ridge?” Her soft voice holds vulnerability, as if she thinks I’m going to disappoint her all over again.
“I was worried about you, and I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay.”
She nods. “I’m fine.”
“So, you’re feeling better? You don’t have a cold?”
She looks at her feet and taps her boot against the floor. “You and I both know I never had a cold. It was an excuse to leave the studio.”
“Hmmm,” I mumble. “Well, I’m glad you’re not sick. I also wanted to see you so I could apologize in person.”
She flicks her eyes to mine and frowns. “Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me, Ridge. You’re… perfect.”
“No, I’m not.” I shake my head.
“Yes, you are. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman. You’re kind and interesting, funny and handsome. I’m grateful for the time we spent together. Thank you for the remarkable glimpse into your world.”
I’m bold and reach for her hand, sliding my fingers across her skin.
“Ridge, please. This will never work…”
“—Hear me out. That’s all I ask,” I interrupt.
Her body rises in a deep sigh, and she nods.
“I like you, Beverly. Very much. And I should’ve followed my gut when I had the chance.”
“What do you mean?”
I bring both of my hands up to her beautiful face and stroke my thumbs across her cheeks. She blinks back at me, her eyes scanning my features, her mouth slightly open, allowing little puffs of heated air to escape her full lips.
“What are you doing?”
“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
Time seems to stand still as I lean in and tenderly press my mouth against hers, our lips brushing together so softly it doesn’t seem real. She’s stiff in my arms, her body unyielding.
I move my lips across her cheek in several feather-light kisses and whisper into her ear, “Relax, Lovely.”
“Okay,” she squeaks.
I pull back and offer her a heartfelt smile. A slight grin tweaks at the corners of her mouth, her large doe eyes staring back at me. Something searing and honest passes between us.
“I’m going to kiss you for real this time.”
“That wasn’t real before?” she asks, her brow furrowing.
I shake my head, and I love the way her lashes flutter and her mouth falls open in a sigh.
“Okay,” she exhales. “For real this time. Lay it on me, Ridge.”
She humorously puckers her lips, and I chuckle, wondering how many times I’ve fantasized about our first kiss.
Her breath heavy with anticipation, her voice almost desperate as my name falls from her lips among the rows of library books.
I take a deep breath, her scent flooding through me.
She smells fantastic, like honeysuckle and sunshine.
I sweep my thumb across her bottom lip and take my time. I’m holding back, giving her the lead on these precious moments leading up to our first official kiss. I graze my nose with hers, warm wisps of her staggered breath hitting my cheeks.
And then I gasp when her mouth suddenly plunders mine in a demanding kiss, her fingers threading through my hair.
My hands lock around her waist, squeezing, my tongue sweeping between her lips.
She knows exactly what she’s doing and kisses me long and hard and deep before she pulls back, our mouths hovering inches apart. Tingling. Hot breath between us.
I pull her in for a hug, holding her so close I can feel her heartbeat. We sway among the book spines to an imaginary song, and I turn her in a slow circle.
“Wow,” she whispers. That one word says it all.
She studies me silently for a moment before I lean in and kiss her again. I revel in the soft curves of her cheek against my jaw. The pressure of her mouth against mine, and the undeniable heat pouring into me.
One kiss from this remarkable woman is all it takes to make me realize that I want more.
So much more. Deep inside, I can feel my heart uncoiling.
Letting go. I’m finally taking my life into my hands on my own terms. Taking what I want.
And I definitely want her. But I’m not stupid.
I know it will be difficult navigating our schedules and the long distance between us.
I really want to be different with her. I want to take my time and get to know her. I want to woo her and shower her with so much romance and chivalry, she’ll feel like she’s living out her very own fantasy. Maybe even one with a happy ending.
I can’t explain it. Somewhere along the way, I went from grumpy anti-hero to Prince Charming. And if that’s what I’m meant to be so Beverly stays in my life, so be it. I suppose with the right woman, anything is possible.
Pressing my forehead against hers, I fumble with my words. “I don’t want to leave you. I… I want more.”
“Me too,” she whispers.
“Would you consider flying out to LA for a visit?”
“I have to work during the week. It would be a lot of travel for such a short two-day weekend.”
I groan and wrap my arms around her in another hug. “What about your fall break?”
“I’ll be with my sister in Heartsboro.”
I’m silent, my mind screaming for her to change her plans.
Or even to invite me to her sister’s house for a few days.
My schedule is wide open through the end of the year, before all of the press junkets and promotional events for the movie premiere.
A little country getaway with this woman, whose kiss has awakened something deep inside of me, would be heaven for sure.
Maybe I could stay here in Atlanta. Where? I don’t know. But I’m a grown man. I can figure this out.
“But maybe…”
“—Maybe what?” I hold my breath.
“Maybe I could change my plans and come to LA for the week?”
I tuck a strand of hair over her ear and stroke her cheek. Her lips are swollen, and her face is flushed. I’ve never seen a woman look more beautiful.
“You’d do that for me?”
“I think so. But I’ll need to speak with Maddy and sleep on it if that’s okay. And I do have one condition.”
“Anything.”
She dips her head and chews on her lower lip before she responds. “I’ll need to stay in your guest room.” When she looks up at me, I’m taken aback by the profound look of trust in her eyes. “I’ve, uh… never spent the night with a man before.”
I swallow hard, the true meaning behind her carefully chosen words not lost on me. That she’s always completely honest says a lot about her character.
“Perfectly fine,” I croak with reassurance, trying to hide my surprise.
I told myself at the hotel that I wouldn’t go back to the school and look for her.
But the thought of not seeing her again left me reeling.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Beverly fills the empty places in my heart.
She’s careful and patient, with her lovely smile and kindness.
And that kiss. Wow! I’ll never get over it.
She makes me feel like I can be myself at all times, and I’m willing to do anything to see her again. To kiss her. To hold her hand and touch her face. To be in the presence of pure light and serenity. Beverly is unlike any woman I’ve ever met, but I know I’ll have to tread lightly moving forward.
If she needs to stay in my guest room, I can make that happen. I was raised right, and I know my mother and my stepfather would expect nothing less of me. I don’t expect anything less of myself.
I know men in Hollywood have a bad reputation for being players and treating women poorly. The last thing I want is for Beverly to think of me that way, even though I’m well aware I royally screwed up with Whitney. Pun intended.
But now is not the time to tell her about my unfortunate one-night stand. Or about my infant son, whom I’ve never met. Or the self-loathing I struggle with when I think about being brutally honest and telling her my truth. I’m not like all the others. It was one mistake.
I just hope I can convince her otherwise.