Chapter 15
Fifteen
Beck crossed the parking lot to The Tower.
In the lobby, he eyed the house phone. He picked it up and put it back down just as quickly.
Pacing the beautifully decorated lobby, he went through all the reasons that pursuing this fascination with Jessie was a bad idea and kept coming back to the same thing—she had come here for peace and quiet, not to get wrapped up with him.
Besides, it couldn’t go anywhere. In a week or two, she’d go back to her life, and he’d get on with his.
What was the point? And who needed the heartache?
Not him. That’s for sure. He’d already had enough of that to last him a lifetime.
Determined to get control of the madness that had temporarily overtaken him, Beck picked up the phone to dial her extension.
She answered as if she had run for the phone, and his gut contracted with regret.
“Hey,” he said. “Something’s come up. I can’t make it tonight.”
“Oh.”
Feeling like a total shit, he closed his eyes and worked at keeping his tone gruff. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” she said in a small voice. “I cooked.”
“Listen, Jessie—”
“Nothing good ever follows those words.”
His whole body thrummed with tension.
“Are you trying to tell me it’s over between us?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’ll never work. You know that as well as I do.”
“Since you’re not even man enough to talk to me about this in person, I suppose you’re right.”
“Jessie—”
“Save it, Peter. You disappoint me. I thought you were different.”
Now that made him mad. He was trying to do what was best for her. “I’m coming up.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not interested.”
“I’m coming.” He slammed down the phone and stalked to the elevator. Being a good guy was never as great as it was cracked up to be. That was for sure. On the fifth floor, he pounded on her door. “Open up, Jessie.”
“Go away before I call security.”
“I am security. Now open up.”
“I’ll call Travis and tell him you’re harassing me.”
“No, you won’t.” In a softer tone, he added, “Open the door. Please.” With his forehead resting on the door, he waited for several long moments while beating himself up for being so stupid.
The moment she told him she wasn’t interested, he realized she was the only thing he really wanted.
He had no idea how he’d managed to convince himself that walking away from her was in any way the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Jessie. I’m sorry.”
The door opened so suddenly he fell into the apartment and landed hard on his back. With the wind knocked out of him, he looked up at her in a filmy, floral dress that was sexy as hell. Her cascade of blond curls fell untamed, framing her exquisite face, which was currently convulsed with laughter.
He tried and failed to draw a breath. Clutching his chest, he sat up and forced air into his lungs.
“I’d give the execution a five out of six,” she said, one hand propped on her hip in a saucy pose. “You really stuck the landing.”
“I’m glad you’re amused,” he said when he could speak again. Rising gingerly to his knees, he took a few more breaths for good measure and discovered that something smelled really good. “What’d you make?”
“Tenderloin, my grandmother’s au gratin potatoes, asparagus, and my famous tossed salad. Too bad you broke up with me over the phone.” Leaning far enough forward to give him a dazzling view of her cleavage, she added, “I bet you would’ve enjoyed it.”
Beck swallowed hard. “I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”
“And what would that be?”
“It’s not me. You know that, Jessie.”
Big blue eyes flashed with anger. “What I know is I felt something different for you the first instant I saw you. How can you take that away from me before I’ve had a chance to find out what it means?” Her tough exterior began to crumble. “How can you do that to me?”
He pushed himself up to his feet. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I’d rather regret than continue to wonder.”
Not sure if he still had the right, he reached out to her and breathed a sigh of relief when she let him bring her into his embrace. “My intentions were good.”
“Maybe so but your delivery stinks.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He tipped up her chin and kissed her softly. “Am I forgiven?”
Looking up at him with bottomless blue eyes, she said, “Do you really care about forgiveness or are you just hungry?”
He smiled. “I really care, and that scares the hell out of me.”
“Me, too.”
He held her for a long time, filled with relief even as it sunk in that he’d probably missed his last chance to escape.
Late on Friday afternoon, Liana sat with Travis at the club’s bar to go over everything one last time. She nursed a glass of wine as she went through her checklist point by point.
“You’re so organized,” Travis said, impressed.
“Everyone here has been incredibly nice and helpful. Did you ask them to hold my hand?”
He shrugged. “I asked them to do their jobs, but I also had every confidence you could do yours.”
She smiled. “Well, you have some very fine people working for you.” An entertainment show on the TV over the bar caught her eye when she saw herself and Travis walking into the hospital the day before. “There we are.”
He looked up in time to see a montage of headlines from the day’s tabloids:
“Travis and Liana Engaged?”
“Liana Giving Up Modeling for Travis?”
“Travis Scores a Touchdown with Liana”
“Has Liana Found Her True North?”
The last headline, “Travis Puts Liana to Work,” included a photo taken from a boat as she supervised workers in the tent.
Liana swallowed hard when she noticed the tick of tension pulsing in Travis’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Travis. I know it’s so invasive.”
“I don’t like the reference to scoring,” he said quietly. “Not one bit.”
She reached for his hand. “They think they’re being clever referring to football. That’s all.”
His eyes, riveted to the television, widened all at once.
“What?” she asked.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “They’re chasing down my high school football coach.”
Liana winced watching the older man wave his hand to say “no comment” as he pushed through a crowd of reporters. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Travis recovered and forced a smile. “You have nothing to be sorry about. At least it’s not my kindergarten teacher.”
“I’m glad you can joke about it.”
“Hey,” he said with a finger to her chin. “It’s no big deal, all right?”
“It’s horrible.”
“It’s gossip. That’s all it is.”
“What your employees must think—”
“I don’t care what they think. I pay them well for their discretion.”
“I didn’t intend for our fling to turn your whole life upside down.”
“It hasn’t,” he insisted. “Well, not in the way you mean, anyway.”
Intrigued, she studied him. “How then?”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. “All I can think about—morning, noon, and night—is how long I have to wait until I can get you back in my bed.”
A bolt of heat shot straight through her.
Travis smiled at her flustered reaction and skimmed a finger over her blush. “I’ve missed that the last few days. I’m glad to know I can still make it happen.”
Liana finished her wine in one big gulp. “Let’s get out of here.”
Travis got up and held out his hand to her. They went to his office to drop off the wedding file and pick up Dash before they headed to The Tower. The dog ran on ahead of them, and Liana laughed when Dash unearthed a rabbit and gave chase toward the beach.
Travis groaned. “Great. She’ll be gone for half an hour.”
Liana looped her arm around his waist. “You’ve waited this long. Another half hour won’t kill you.”
“It might,” he said. “It very well might.”
She laughed at the look of dismay that crossed his handsome face. “How about a walk on the beach until we find her?”
“The press has taken to the high seas,” he reminded her, gesturing to the boats anchored just off the shore of North Point. Photographers with huge zoom lenses sat waiting for a glimpse of them.
“That’s okay. It’ll be dark soon anyway. They won’t get much.”
“You’ve gotten ballsy this week,” he said with pride.
“In more ways than one,” she said with a giggle that made him groan with desire. She rendered him silent when she shifted their joined hands so she could trail a fingertip over his palm.
“Dash knows the way home,” he said in a choked voice.
“Can she operate an elevator, too?” Liana teased, tugging him toward the beach. “What kind of daddy are you to let your little girl run off on her own?”
He whistled for Dash and swore when he got no response. “Come on,” he said begrudgingly. “Let’s go find the disobedient brat.”
Beck took a rare half-day on Friday to go to the beach with Jessie. He’d done his best to teach her how to body surf, but they’d spent more time making out than surfing. By the time they returned to The Tower at sunset, his nerves were beginning to fray. He wanted her so badly he ached.
“You were quiet on the way home.” She handed him a beer and sat down next to him on the patio. “Everything all right?”
He reached for her hand. “Today was fun.”
“It was. I loved the waves.”
“I loved the bikini—and so did every other guy on the beach.”
She winced. “I’m sorry if that bothers you. I don’t even notice it anymore.”
“That’s not what bothers me.”
“Then what?”
“The thought of some guy out there being fixated on you, scaring you, following you. That really bothers me. You can’t hide out here forever. Eventually, you’ll have to go back to your life.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh.
“I’d like to contact the New York police. I know some people. I could pull some strings. I want to help you, Jessie. Will you let me?”
“You have so much to deal with here—the vandals and the press. I don’t want to be a distraction.”
He brought their joined hands to his lips. “Too late.”
She rested her head back on the lounge, turning to study him. “You’re very sweet to want to help.”
“I need to help.”
“All right. But your first priority is your own work.”