An image of Bethany’s father, sitting in her high school auditorium, flashed through her mind. Although she’d never had a solo, her dad had attended every one of her high school choir concerts, closing the restaurant early just for her. He’d beam at Bethany from the front center row—her mom and grandparents next to him with their own wide smiles.
The limo stopped but neither moved to open the door.
“Did he ever visit, your dad?”
Hank studied his fingernails. “Once or twice. Each time he’d talk about his new girlfriend and show me a picture of a new sibling. Meanwhile, my mother struggled to keep food on the table and me in shoes.”
He flicked a glance her way before looking out the window, and Bethany almost cringed at the harshness reflected there. Gone was the television star who always broadcasted a glowing smile. In his place was a man at war with himself—a man who knew a world of hurt.
The change was so drastic, Bethany blinked, wonderingif she’d really witnessed it. She touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Hank. Not every man is meant to be a father.”
Now he did look at her. His face lost all expression. “You’re right.” He seemed surprised and dumbfounded.
“Hank?” Why did she have the feeling they weren’t talking about his father? “Hank, I didn’t mean?—”
“We’re here. Let’s forget about my father.”
Louis opened the door, interrupting their conversation.
“C’mon,” Hank said, unfolding his long legs to climb out of the car.
She scrambled to follow, trailing him to the graveyard. He stopped and swung the flashlight beam on a simple white gravestone. A dozen yellow roses, which could have been plucked that morning, rested in a vase at the foot of the grave. Bethany gazed at the words etched in the stone:Katherine Anne Haverill, Beloved Daughter, Sister, Mother. If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.
“I was in college when she died—completely floored—it happened so fast. I’d talked to her the night before. She said she had a headache, but other than that, sounded like her normal self. I didn’t think anything of it. The next day, she was gone. I never got to say goodbye. I dropped out of school—I couldn’t concentrate.”
Bethany touched his arm. “I’m so sorry, Hank.”
He turned to look at her. “Don’t be. It’s been years since her death. I’ve had a lot of time to adjust. And dropping out of college landed me my big break in television.”
She shivered, and he wrapped one long arm around her shoulders. “Cold?”
“No.”
“I didn’t bring you here to make you feel sorry for me.”
She turned toward him. “Why did you bring me here?”
It was dark, which made it hard to get a good read on his expression. But she knew coming to his mother’s grave was not an impulsive decision. He’d planned it, just like he’d planned to show her his grandfather’s house and the stars from the tree in the backyard.
She shivered again despite the hot, humid air, which kissed her shoulders. Crickets chirped, filling the silence.
“I brought you here because I’ve never brought another living soul here.”
“No one? Not your dad or your friends?”
“No one. At first, because I couldn’t bear to come here when my mom passed away, and later, because I viewed it as private. When you’re in the public eye, there’s not much considered sacred. I don’t want my mother’s gravesite to be featured in a magazine or plastered across the Internet.”
“Your secret is safe with me, I promise.”
“I know. And I know you’ve read some of those gossipy magazine stories that talk about who I’m dating or will date or ditched. I’ve had my share of relationships that didn’t work out, and I’m not going to apologize or deny my past. But I’m more than the Hollywood heartthrob the media has labeled me...thatyouthink I am. I want you to see that. I want you to see the real me.”
He kissed her then—long, tender, lingering kisses in the moonlight that could have gone on forever as far as Bethany was concerned. When they finally pulled apart, they were both gasping for air.
“Beth,” he breathed, framing her face with his large hands.
“Yes,” she managed.
“I’m not going to deny I want you. You’d have to be blind not to know how much. But I’ll never pressure you todo something you don’t want to do. Especially when you’re under my roof. You’ll be safe with me. Do you understand?”
