Touched by Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons) by Melissa Foster
“Yes. Yes. Yes.”
With that one word, they succumbed to the heat between them. He sank deeper into the kiss, into her soft, supple body, into the essence of the woman he loved. Her right leg slid up his thigh, bringing them even closer together as the front door flew open and their friends charged in.
“Go play,” he said to Friday, who immediately sought the ruckus of their cheering, laughing friends.
“They knew?” Janie asked against his lips.
“I couldn’t let you get engaged without your entourage here to celebrate.”
“What if I’d said no?” she teased as the girls pulled her into a hug and Chet slapped him on the back.
“That’s what my entourage was for. To scrape me off the floor after you broke my heart.”
As their friends congratulated them, Boyd never took his eyes off his future wife. She was smiling and laughing and showing off her ring. Janie lifted her eyes in his direction and as she mouthed, I love you, he knew she could see him better than anyone else ever had.
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—Ready For More Love in Bloom?—
Have you met the RYDERS?
Chapter One -- Chased by Love
“I’M GOING OVER. Should I go over? Tell me I shouldn’t. Or should I?” Trish Ryder clutched her cell phone, pacing inside her trailer on the set of her latest film, No Strings. She’d been trying to study her lines all night, but her costar, famed rocker Boone Stryker, had a full-blown party going on at his trailer, and she could barely think past the noise.
“It’s midnight and you have to be on set in seven hours,” her best friend, Fiona, reminded her. “You’re the star, so yes. Get your ass over there and pull a diva.”
Trish stopped cold. “But I’m not a diva!”
“Of course not, but you know that’s what his groupies will think, which you do not care about. Right?”
“Right.” She nodded curtly, but she did care. She cared a lot, and Fiona knew that about her. She’d worked hard to keep a professional reputation clear of any diva attitude or impressions, and she didn’t want to blow it for a self-centered rock star making his film debut.
Fiona groaned, and Trish heard her friend’s fiancé, Jake Braden, say, “Give me the phone.”
“Do not give him the phone.” Trish paced again. She adored Jake. Not only was he an amazing stuntman, but he treated her bestie like a princess. But Jake, like each of Trish’s five brothers, had the protective alpha thing down pat, which meant he’d want to take care of this for her.
“Like I have a choice?” Fiona giggled, and Trish heard them struggling over the phone.
“Trish?” Jake’s tone made her name sound like a command she should salute.
Trish Ryder saluted no man. “No, it’s Mary Poppins.”
“Okay. Well, listen, Mary,” Jake said without missing a beat. “March your pretty little ass over there and tell the guy to straighten up. If he gives you any crap, call me back, and I’ll come to the set and knock some sense into him.”
Of course you will. “Thanks, Jake, but I can handle it. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to stir up trouble. He’s already messed up so badly, the whole crew knows the film’s on thin ice.”
“Even more of a reason for you to set him straight,” Jake said. “You don’t have to be a bitch. Just be your normal, confident self. He’d have to be a real dick not to rectify the situation.”
She sighed, and heard Jake pass the phone back to Fiona. Maybe they were right. She was a well-respected actress, and this was Boone’s first film. Maybe he simply wasn’t up to speed on film-set etiquette. Obviously, since in the span of a few weeks he’d missed the preproduction meeting, showed up late to the set, and screwed up too many scenes to count.
“I’m back. You okay?” Fiona asked.
“Yes. No. I don’t know, but I’m going over. You guys are right. If I’m awake all night, I’ll be the one messing up tomorrow, and I don’t need the director upset with me.”
After Trish ended the call, she set her phone down beside a copy of Rolling Stone magazine. A picture of Boone, shirtless, graced the cover. She’d read the article. She’d read every article about Boone taking on the role in No Strings, and they all said the same thing. Boone Stryker is everything fantasies are made of: warm brown eyes that say “help me,” “do me and you’ll never forget me,” body ink indicative of a troubled soul, and an insurmountable dedication to his craft.
They left out self-centered asshole with no respect for anyone but himself. And based on his behavior, she wasn’t even sure he had that.
Well, guess what? It’s time to grow up.
Her phone vibrated with a call from her eldest brother, Duke. She groaned. Damn it, Jake. You’ve got a big freaking mouth. Sometimes being a little sister sucked—even at almost thirty years old. She let the call go to voicemail. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with her overprotective eldest brother who was ten years her senior. When would he learn that having ovaries didn’t mean she needed looking after?
She stormed out of her trailer, assaulted by the sounds of rock and roll coming from across the lot. Groups of scantily clad women and shirtless men, smoking and drinking, created a buffer between Boone’s trailer and the rest of the world. Trish stood and watched for a moment, trying to spot Boone among the mass of swaying bodies. She couldn’t imagine living with groupies around all the time. It was no wonder he showed up late and was never prepared. How could anyone deal with this and concentrate on anything?
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin, squaring her shoulders like she wasn’t nervous at all. She was an actress. She could do this, and Jake was right. There was no need to be a bitch. She’d act calm and cool, and hopefully Boone would respond reasonably. Cool. Yeah, right. She didn’t usually have trouble with confrontations, but the badass rocker struck chords she’d never had tweaked before, and he did it with little more than a glance, which was horribly embarrassing. She couldn’t deny the rush of heat that consumed her every time their eyes connected. Unfortunately, as hot as their chemistry was off set, when she and Boone were acting, he became cold, like he didn’t want to feel the heat. In an effort to keep the situation from becoming even more uncomfortable, she’d kept her distance when they were off set. She hated that this would be their first real interaction. But that was on him, she decided, and set out across the lot, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.
The smell of cigarettes, weed, sweat, and sex hung heavily in the air. She pulled her arms in close, turning sideways to fit between less-than-accommodating people, and weaved through the drunken mob toward his trailer. She scanned the crowd for Boone, trying to ignore the way men and women were eyeing her up. She was used to being looked at, and she wasn’t generally judgmental, but the groupie vibe and raunchy smell made her feel like she needed a shower. Stat!
“Hey, babe,” a long-haired guy said as she squeezed between him and a busty brunette.
She forced a smile and pushed past, making a beeline for the trailer door. It seemed ridiculous to knock, given the scene she’d just waded through, but she knocked anyway. No one answered. She knocked again, louder, and when no one answered, she tried the knob. Locked. Perfect. The asshole was probably passed out naked with a harem of women. An icy chill rushed down her spine. Yuck. She pushed her way back through the crowd, determined to give him hell tomorrow, regardless of how it affected the movie. This was bullshit. How could he sleep with all that racket?
“Trish?”
She startled at the sound of Boone’s voice coming from the direction of the parking lot and spun around. He had the most sensual voice she’d ever heard. It didn’t matter if he was singing or acting, it affected her every time. It was deep and rich, and somehow rough, demanding both attention and intimacy. She tried to steady her racing heart with a few deep breaths as she drank him in. He held his guitar case
She swallowed a puddle of drool, drew her shoulders back again, and set a hand on her hip, hoping to mask her attraction. His smile turned smug, and his eyes lit with a spark of intel that made her gut twist. Bastard.
“Did I wake you?” She might not have been able to mask her attraction, but every word she spoke was laden with sarcasm.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, as if he were bored with the conversation. Or maybe with life.
“Wake me?” he said with an arched brow. “I just got here.”
She glanced at the crowd and pointed to her ears, indicating the blaring music there was no way he could miss, and glared at him. “You just let your groupies run wild like this while you’re not even around?”
He strode toward her, his piercing dark eyes sucking her right into his vortex. He stopped when they were toe to toe, filling the air with his confident arrogance and making it hard to breathe, much less concentrate.
“I had no idea they were partying. I’ll shut it down. But for the record, no. I don’t let my groupies run wild.” His gaze roved over her face, and she narrowed her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see the way every sweep sent waves of heat to all her best parts. “You went over there?”
“Some of us take this movie seriously. I can’t prepare with that noise going on all night.”
Boone raked his eyes down her body, causing her to nearly combust. A sinful smile curved his lips as his eyes began a slow stroll north, over her hips, lingering on her breasts, and bringing her traitorous nipples to attention, greeting him like a long-lost lover.
“Pretty woman like you shouldn’t scowl so much.” His rich voice slid over her skin like a caress, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
God, she hated herself right now.
Unwilling to give him the upper hand, she flashed a haughty smirk and returned his assessment with a lecherous leer of her own, drinking in every inch of his athletic build, from his bulging biceps to the ripped abs evident beneath his clingy shirt, all the way to the formidable package at the juncture of his powerful thighs. She lingered there, brazenly licking her lips.
He leaned in close—so close she thought he might kiss her. And damn it to hell, she wanted him to. Lust and challenge pulsed between them, thick and alive like a third heart. She shifted her eyes away and noticed a gorgeous platinum blonde standing in the shadows behind him. Embarrassment and something that felt far too similar to the claws of jealousy dug into her.
Her eyes shot to Boone, but before she could say a word, he said, “I’ll take care of the noise,” and stalked away with an arm around the blonde.
~To continue reading~
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Melissa Foster, Touched by Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons)