Page 15

Glancing to the right, I see that a crowd has gathered. That was her “ocean wave soundtrack”. They were cheering at our kiss.

Twisting in my seat, I block Julia as much as possible with my shoulders and back. "Please don't freak out," I say, in as low and steady a voice as I can manage. “There's a small crowd down on the sand, and a few people right in front of the restaurant."

Her face falls. "Will you have to stop for a million autographs on the way out?"

"No." I clasp her hand. "I recognize two of them from a large paparazzi site. They've been digging into me for a while."

Her lovely eyes are huge. "They aren't going to hurt you or anything, right?"

"Not at all, we're safe.” My thumb brushes across her bottom lip. "I just don't want you to get crowded. And I really don't want them to find out where you live if they follow us."

She stares. "It's okay. I have a plan," I murmur. Watching her eyes carefully, I whisper, "I have tons of security at my house and live in a gated neighborhood, so they can't follow us in. It would be much safer if you came to my place tonight. Is that all right?"

She nods quickly. "Whatever you think."

I call the server over and slip her my credit card. "This is for our dinner. Please give yourself a fifty percent tip. Don't look now, but we’re being watched by a crowd out front."

She nods. "Yes, I’ve noticed them gathering for a while."

"I need you to return with a couple of fake drinks – ice water in a fancy glass is fine, just something that makes it look like we're staying a bit longer. Then after a minute or so, we're going to duck out your back door. Cool?"

"Cool." She nods firmly, her blonde ponytail swishing in a way that reminds me of the brunette waitress at Ray’s Diner. "I'll warn the kitchen you're coming through and have the host there to keep an eye on things when you leave."

"Thank you."

She returns in just a few minutes with two ice waters in tall glasses with umbrellas on them, plus my credit card wrapped in the receipt. "Annnd another round of drinks for you," she says brightly and loudly. "I'll be back to check on you again in a little while.”

"Thanks."

Julia is beginning to shake. "We've got this," I say quietly. "The ladies’ room is on the main floor near the kitchen. Go there now and wait right there in the hall, out of sight. I want you to go first, so you can take the stairs slowly, okay?"

She takes a deep breath. "Okay." She leaves, and I sip my drink for about a minute. Then I fake answering a call on my phone, standing up and pacing back and forth along the balcony for a moment before going inside.

We're out the door and in the car before anyone realizes we've left. I see the paparazzi diving for their vehicles in the rearview mirror, but we’re already rounding the corner.

"Wow, smooth, "Julia says. "Did they teach you that in rock star school?"

"I, ahh, may have studied a few websites filled with tips."

"Clever. I appreciate you were so prepared."

"Speaking of which, I have a spare toothbrush and stuff you can sleep in tonight."

When we stop for a red light, I check her eyes. "You're welcome to stay in the guest room. You're also welcome to stay in my bed. You can do anything you like, and I will not be offended by any of your choices.” Leaning close, I give her a brief but tender kiss. "I just want you to be comfortable with me, angel."

She smiles. "I really appreciate that, Sam. More than you know."

9

JULIA

Just two days ago, if you’d told me I was about to walk into Sam Silverton's house, I’d have pinched myself, sure I was dreaming. But he's just Sam now.

He's no longer a mystical rock star with a gorgeous profile and bedroom eyes. A rocker who became a composer of heartfelt love songs. Now, he's just a breathtakingly kind man who offers me more than my fair share of chocolate cake and is always trying to make sure I’m comfortable.

The house isn't huge, just large enough to be quietly classy, and looks extremely cozy. Sam is clearly stoked to have me here, too. He makes us some cinnamon cocoa, finds a nature channel with mountains and autumn leaves, then curls up with me on the couch.

“Listen," he says, turning so our knees are touching. "I know this is fast, and more than a little crazy. But all that crap from the truck thing…” He waves his hand vaguely to the front door. "Can we assume that it's over? That my PR situation is probably fine again?"