Decked with Holly (18 page)

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Authors: Marni Bates

BOOK: Decked with Holly
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Chapter 26
Dominic
 
N
othing was going the way I expected . . . and not just because I had talked a high school girl into pretending to be my girlfriend.
Sure, I was stuck with The Mess, but that didn't mean I should be enjoying her company. Especially if it came at the price of my freedom—and my ability to scuba wherever and whenever I wanted. Still, seeing her grin widen when we surfaced. . . it almost made up for being on the losing end of our compromise.
Maybe I just wasn't thinking clearly because she hadn't looked like The Mess with her hair fanning out into a puffy cloud underwater. For a moment, I almost forgot the girl was a walking disaster who enjoyed massacring songs in the shower and annoying me. Especially when we began strolling around the marketplace together.
She studied the caricatures of a street artist briefly before tugging me down onto his stool and perching herself on my lap. I tried to remove her but she held on tight, smiled widely for the artist while she muttered, “I tried scuba diving. Payback.”
“But you at least enjoyed it,” I grumbled, forcing a pained smile for the man sketching furiously at his easel.
“You're not supposed to talk.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist and tugged her more fully against me. Since her whole posture went rigid I had a feeling my move startled her.
Good.
“Now just me.” Holly sprang up the moment the artist set down his charcoal. “For my grandpa. I still need a birthday present.”
I eyed the drawing. My hair was shaggy to the point of making me look like a sheepdog, and Holly's nose resembled a map of Argentina. “What's wrong with giving him this one?”
I turned it to her and she laughed. “That's great!” Then she sobered. “Except my grandpa will want to hang it on the wall. And since we're not really . . . I mean, it's just . . . he won't take it down, and since we're not
actually
. . . it needs to be of me. Alone.”
Right. Of course, that made sense. No one would want their grandpa to have a picture of their fake rock star ex-boyfriend immortalized on their living room wall.
“What should we do with this then?”
She shrugged and then forced herself to remain still while the street artist finished her solo portrait. “You can keep it. I have plenty of sketches of you already.”
Not exactly comforting.
Holly glanced back at her watch. “We should probably head back to the ship. We've got a wonderful family dinner, after all.”
Her tone made it clear that the two of us were equally unenthused at the prospect of eating with her closest relatives. But she shrugged off her unease as we made our way to the ship and changed for dinner. Holly didn't even act concerned about it as she sat applying some of the midnight-black mascara I had purchased. Instead, she cracked up as I had related my shopping difficulties. Which made it somehow harder to watch. Her aunt started in on her again the second we joined everyone at the dinner table. Except this time instead of focusing on calories, she pointed out that Holly had applied the
wrong
kind of makeup in the
wrong
way, making everything “just wrong!”
I didn't even know what Holly's aunt was yammering on about, since I hadn't seen her try anything beyond the mascara. Considering that she hadn't given herself racoon eyes, I figured it worked just fine. Then again, I had been a little distracted when she stepped out of the bathroom wearing a skirt.
Not that I had let on.
Still, Holly listened to her aunt's critique in silence. Then she turned to her grandpa, the one member of her family who didn't treat her like a charity case.
Of course, he also had to be the one person in her family who hated me.
“I went scuba diving today,” Holly informed the old man triumphantly.
Maybe not the smoothest topic change, but it worked.
“You
what?
” Holly's grandfather didn't look pleased—instead he looked absolutely furious, and it wasn't difficult to guess who he held responsible. “
He
took you scuba diving! Without any regard to
safety
or—”
“It was entirely safe,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear him rattle off the billion reasons why Holly never should have agreed to it. “She took a lesson. In a pool. No fatalities either.”
“Hmph.”
The old man didn't look appeased. “I guess it was foolish of me to think that my granddaughter might want to spend some time with
her own family
on vacation.”
Holly's smile vanished.
“If you want to do something with me then I'll be there. You know that, Grandpa. Always.”
I didn't need Tim's skill with girls to understand she was talking about much more than a vacation. I'd even bet my share of profits from ReadySet's debut album that if her grandpa ever became ill, Holly would drop out of college, fly home, and put her life on hold indefinitely.
Something that I had never been forced to consider before.
Damn, I was glad I wasn't in that situation. I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to cope with it.
Then again, Holly didn't seem to know how to handle it either since her grandpa was able to maneuver her into agreeing to go on a Christmas horseback riding excursion on the beaches of Puerto Vallarta with her entire family the next day. In the space of three sentences.
The man might hate me but he was undeniably brilliant.
Although Holly hadn't exactly wanted to evade the outing.
“We haven't done that together in years!” She gestured excitedly with her hands, nearly knocking over her water glass. “Are you sure, Grandpa?”
He let out another one of his
hmph
s. “I wouldn't have suggested it if I weren't!”
Holly turned to me. “Doesn't that sound great, Nick!”
In a word: no.
“Uh, yeah. I'm going to have to sit that one out.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I'm just not big on horseback riding. And I don't want to prevent you from having quality time with your grandpa.”
I was willing to use whatever excuse I needed.
“I'll spend time with Dominic,” one of the twins volunteered instantly. “Claire and I can keep him entertained.”
Holly kicked me under the table. Hard.
“I, uh, I have to work.”
Not the smoothest of excuses. But at least it was the truth. I needed to check in with the guys and find out how the nonstop good publicity campaign was going.
“I wonder what your publicist will have to say about that,” Holly commented.
“I'm sure she'll be glad to hear that I'm making business my top priority.”
“I wouldn't bet on it.”
I shrugged. “She's overcontrolling, if you ask me. I'll probably fire her soon anyway. Damn nuisance, really.”
Holly forced a strained smile and shot a pointed glance in her aunt's direction. “I really think you should join us for horseback riding, Nick.”
Her message came through loud and clear: She wanted me to go as her buffer.
Too bad.
“Holly, I don't want to impose on your family.”
Which was the wrong thing to say because a strange glint appeared in her grandpa's eyes. “You already impose at dinner—”
“Grandpa!”
“You're welcome to join us,” he continued smugly. “I think it's time for us to get to know each other.”
Crap.
“Well, if
everyone
is going horseback riding then we're in too!” Claire (or was it Allison?) announced.
Holly's uncle cleared his throat. “I'm taking the boys out on ATVs.”
That sounded great to me. Four wheels, I can do. Four legs, I avoid.
I was about to suggest that I spend the day with her uncle and cousins instead, when Holly sent me a pained look. One hour with the other women and she'd probably lose it for good.
And she might let it slip that our relationship wasn't real.
“Horseback riding it is.”
It could have been worse. Not for me, maybe, but Hollywood does love it when a knight rides in on his trusty steed.
Unless the knight happens to get trampled by his own horse and left in a pile of mangled flesh right in front of the princess.
But, really, what could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 27
Holly
 
N
ick looked genuinely terrified.
In the past three days I had seen him disgusted, annoyed, nervous, cynical, and snarky . . . but never with this look of full-blown panic crossed his face.
Unless I counted the time he mistook me for a zombie. But considering that a millisecond later I was blasted with pepper spray, it was hard to gauge the accuracy of that particular memory.
Performing in front of millions of screaming teenagers didn't seem to faze him, but apparently horses were an entirely different story.
Dominic Wyatt was practically quaking with nerves.
Hilarious.
“Come on, they don't bite,” I told him as I slowly stroked my horse's neck. “They're very sweet.”
“They have huge teeth.”
“And?” I waited for him to make a point.
“I don't want to give him any reason to sharpen them on me.”
Apparently, there were a lot of things I still didn't know about Nick, including where he had gone after dinner the night before. As soon as we left the dining room together he went cryptic on me and disappeared.
I probably shouldn't have cared. He didn't owe me any explanations. If he wanted to drink and gamble in the casino all night there was nothing stopping him. He was a twenty-one-year-old rock star; he could do whatever he wanted.
It just struck me as strange since we hadn't had anything even bordering on a serious dispute in . . . days? I thought we were becoming . . . friends.
I must have misread the situation. And even though I knew it wasn't worth obsessing over, I kept trying to identify what had triggered his need to ditch me. Plus the air of secrecy around it had definitely piqued my curiosity.
Especially since he wouldn't say a word about it in the morning.
Of course, one glimpse at a horse and he looked ready to tell me almost anything if it got him out of horseback riding.
“Hurry up, Nick.”
He glared at me, then the horse, then back at me. “I'm not sure which of you is a bigger nag.”
“Very funny.”
“Not really. I fail to see any humor in this situation.”
I dismounted from my horse, handed the reins to one of our guides, and walked over to Nick. “It's simple. You put your feet in the stirrups and you sit. No buttons or hand signals or oxygen pumps or . . . whatever required.”
“I'll stick with scuba diving, thanks.”
“I was nervous but I gave that a shot.” I gestured toward the horse. “Your turn.”
“
Or
we could try trekking together. Or rent off-road vehicles. What do you say?”
“I say, get on the horse already.”
But because I knew the press was probably lurking around somewhere, I leaned in to him and ruffled his hair in a very proprietary girlfriend kind of way. “You don't want America thinking that a few little horses scare you, right?”
He glared at me again, but this time the look was more out of determination.
“I'm not scared. Merely cautious.”
I grinned and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. It felt warm and a little scratchy and . . . nice. Definitely time for me to get some space. Clear my head. “Saddle up, rock star.”
He began to slowly approach his horse, flinching when it flicked its tail. “You know, ‘rock star' doesn't sound like a compliment when you put it that way.”
I was about to tell him that it wasn't meant to be a compliment when Allison and Claire nudged their horses over to us.
Well, over to Nick anyway. They ignored me entirely.
“Hey, Dominic. So Claire and I were just thinking—”
Never a good sign.
Nick just let out a quiet
“Mhm?”
as he took a few more halting steps toward his horse.
“Well, we heard that Heidi Klum always throws this outrageous New Year's party. Masks. Costumes. The works.”
“Uh, okay.”
Nick gripped onto the saddle for dear life and managed to get one foot in a stirrup before sliding into the seat. His every muscle remained perfectly tense as if he expected to be tossed and trampled at any minute. The poor guy looked downright miserable.
Allison continued right on anyway.
“So Claire and I were hoping you could get us in.” She laughed softly. “We thought you might have some friends we could meet, you know, if you're still unavailable.”
Wow. Talk about obvious. I was a little appalled by just how transparent they were being. And for the life of me I couldn't figure it out. Normally, the twins are so good at toying with people, it's scary. But Nick's celebrity status seemed to have them off their game. Either that or they felt supremely confident that they hadn't overplayed their hand.
“Uh, I can't make any promises right now.”
Probably because he didn't think he'd return to the ship in one piece. The guy was really terrified of horses.
I probably shouldn't have found that cute, but I did.
“Oh, sure. We understand.” For the first time that day, Claire turned to me and I saw something nasty glitter in her eyes. “Holly, we need to talk.”
I could have insisted that anything they had to say in front of me they could say in front of Nick . . . but the last thing he needed was to be caught playing interference with my cousins. So, I mounted my horse again and followed Allison and Claire down the beach for a bit more privacy.
Although I instantly regretted it when Allison hissed, “We haven't mentioned that you're screwing Dominic to Grandpa. . . yet. But if you expect us to keep quiet, you better get us invited to that party.”
As if I had any control over the guest list. Not so much. Plus, it felt skeezier somehow to be using Nick for his famous contacts. I didn't know why that seemed worse than wanting a rock star–related popularity bump at school, but it did.
Maybe because we had agreed to those terms. And Victoria's Secret parties had not been part of our deal.
“You wouldn't want Grandpa finding out that his innocent little girl has been deflowered, do you?” Claire added nastily. “He'd be so disappointed.”
I tried to play it off with a shrug. “He already knows we're dating. It's not like it'd come as a complete surprise to him. Besides, who says we're having sex?”
Allison snorted. “Of course you are. Why else would a guy like Dominic Wyatt waste his time with a girl like
you?
”
Ah, cousinly love. So sweet.
“Well, I'm not worried about Grandpa,” I lied. “You'll have to do better than that to scare me.”
“We still have those photos, don't we, Allie?”
Crap. I had forgotten all about the Santa debacle.
'Tis the season, all right . . . for blackmail.
“There are some tabloids that'll pay good money for those shots. Especially the ones where Holly's skirt is around her waist and she's straddling—”
“Fine! I'll ask him!”
Claire smirked at me. “You do that. And remember: Say anything we don't like, and we'll destroy you.”
This is why I don't understand the appeal of “quality family time.” It never ends well. Then again, maybe most people aren't engaged in a Cold War–type situation where only the threat of mutually assured destruction keeps even the semblance of peace.
There was no childhood grievance at the root of it either. The girls had just taken a dislike to me, and years later . . . nothing had changed. And my grandpa probably thought it was normal “girl stuff” that would pass with time. Yeah, and the Israelis and Palestinians had a few “issues” that some therapy could fix.
Not likely.
I was still scowling at the Twins from Hell when my grandpa waved me over.
“Ride with me, Holly. I want to hear more about this
Nick
fellow of yours.”
Which was pretty funny considering that if he actually wanted to get to know Nick he could have steered his horse over to where the rock star sat tightly clutching his reins. I felt guilty for insisting he join us. I would have backed off if I had known he legitimately feared horses. Then again, he wasn't actually there for me: He was playing it up for the press. Horseback riding on the beach with his new girlfriend and her family . . . girls like Jen would be swooning for sure.
Not that it usually required effort on his part to make that happen.
Still, he was a rock star and nothing mattered to him more than staying on top. Although I had a feeling that staying on top of his horse was his current number-one priority.
Oh, yeah, this was going to be one really long beach ride . . . for him.

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