Malibu Betrayals (18 page)

Sam nodded. It really was, sitting with his family without having to judge every move, poker face every emotion. She wished for a different time and place where it could be real. She stood. “I’m going to get more wine. Can I get you anything?”

Gage stood. “I’ll help you.”

Stepping into the kitchen, he leaned against the counter as she looked over his choices of wine. “Let me take you out, on a real date.”

She shook her head, the past warping to the present, leaving her motion sick.

Turning toward her, Gage took her hands. “Sam, you keep telling me we can’t be together because of what happened with Ethan, because of how intrusive Hollywood is, and how you’re afraid your past will hurt my future. Let me show you it doesn’t have to be that way.” He held her gaze with such eagerness she couldn’t look away. He had strength, he was different now, steady and strong, but would he be able to sustain that?

“Yes, there will be paparazzi, yes, there will be fans, but there will also be
us
…you and me. We’re different from you and Ethan, Sam. Let me show you.”

Fear snaked up Sam’s spine, but no faster than complete and utter joy. She wanted to say yes, hell, she wanted to shout yes, but the fear still had a muzzling effect.

He squeezed her hand, pleading with his eyes.

“Can we talk about this later? I can’t think. I—”

Gage stilled and pressed his lips together with a curt nod. “We’ll talk more once they leave.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he grabbed a bottle and headed back into the living room. “Grab the other bottle.”

She joined Gage and his family, pasting on a game face worthy of an Oscar. They laughed and teased until Bel yawned and Mr. Cutler called it a night. Sam stood and wrapped her arms around Bel. “It was so nice meeting you. Enjoy your students.”

Bel laughed. “You say that like you won’t be hearing all about it, but I assure you, you will. I need someone else to complain to besides these two.”

Sam cleared her throat and then nodded. “Of course.”

More hugs and goodbyes found Mr. Cutler and Bel on their way, and Gage closed the door. He stood a moment and then turned to Sam.

She refused to look away but couldn’t help stepping back as he approached from down the hall. He strode right past her, and she released a huge breath and hung her head. Following the sounds of dishes clinking, she made her way back into the kitchen. Gage couldn’t stand the thought of dishes in the sink overnight, so regardless of the hour, if he entertained, he washed every one. Sam swore he was the only celebrity she knew who even knew how to wash dishes. The corners of her lips turned up. His back was to her, broad and strong, capable of carrying a lot, but there were times he shouldn’t have to.

“Need any help?”

He turned from the sink and tossed her a towel. “You can dry.” Turning back, he picked up a plate and scrubbed it until it was covered in a sudsy froth. “I love you, Sam. I know that’ll scare you, but I do.”

She placed her hand to her chest, and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Everything she ever wanted and always feared lay at her feet. “You love me.”

“I. Love. You.” He set the plate down and angled toward her, leaning his hip against the counter.

The truth of his words swelled in her chest. She wanted to run from him and to him at the same time. “Gage, I…” She stepped toward him, but he put his hand up.

She slid her fingers through his. “You know I have strong feelings for you, too.”

He pressed her hand to his chest. “We can make this whatever we want. It’s one of the things you’ve worked so hard for,
you
making choices for your life.
You
.”

“I know, you’re right.”

“We need to at least try, Sam.”

“We are trying.”

Shaking his head, he glanced down at the floor. “No, we’ve been dancing around the idea. It’s beginning to look like the woman I love doesn’t think I’m worth the hassle of Hollywood.”

A gasp spilled past her lips. “I never, I—”

“Then prove it. We can do things to lessen how intrusive Hollywood can be, my attorney can handle anything that comes up with Ethan’s family, and like I’ve said before, we can minimize the effects of any paparazzi. There are ways, Sam. We’re not helpless. You’re not helpless. Hell, you’re hands down one of the strongest women I know.”

A small light warmed her chest and grew, spreading over her shoulders and down her back. She was strong, and this was her life.

“I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m asking for us to try. I can’t show you how it really could be between us if you don’t let me.”

She looked into eyes that saw her so much more clearly than she saw herself. Maybe the only way was to let him try. “It might work, but I’m afraid it will eventually fail, and I hate to think what that might do to us.”

“One day at a time.” He stepped to her, this strong man with deep emotions, and as he slid his warm hands up her arms to her shoulders, her body naturally melted into him, his words rumbling against her chest. “But what we have? We’re worth the try.”

Her heart turned over, as if waking for the first time. As happiness welled, her grin stretched so wide her cheeks hurt. She didn’t nod meekly or whisper, but rather looked him straight in the eye. “Okay.”

He leaned back, holding her gaze. “Okay?”

She smiled and nodded again.

Yanking her to him, Gage wrapped her in a hug so tight she could barely breathe, but she needed more. Pushing her hands up between their bodies, she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers. Tears she hadn’t even known were falling mixed with dinner’s wine, and she pushed into him tighter still. These tears were different than all the others, almost sweet.

There was so much more of him she wanted to feel, to taste, but his words whispered in her mind, reminding her of something she kept forgetting.

One day at a time.

Chapter Eighteen

Sam laughed as Gage pulled her along behind him. Wednesday nights at Café Habana were one of his favorite things to do. It was time Sam had some fun, and he was just the man to show her. The spot was located in the Country Mart’s paparazzi-free zone, the perfect way to ease her into being out with him.

“Karaoke? Are you serious?” The panic in her voice was adorable.

A palm leaf caught on his shoulder and smacked her right in the face. “Ow!”

Concerned, he spun around to check her face and distractedly placed a kiss to her forehead as she giggled. “I’m sorry. Come on.”

A camera flashed here and there, and a slew of fans stopped them for autographs and cell pics. Gage took care of as many as he could and then with a “thank you” moved Sam farther into the restaurant. He skirted around tables until he found his favorite. Karaoke was a long-time love of his and one he loved to share—with the right person. It was a mix of theater and music, entertaining the performer as much as the audience.

Pulling out a chair for Sam, he waited until she settled in her seat and then took the space across the table from her. “They have the best Cuban-Mexican food on the planet. Do you want a drink?” He signaled to the waitress.

Sam blew out a breath but laughed and slowly lowered her hand to her lap. “Cuban Mexican?”

Gage acknowledged with a raised brow. “You’ll see.”

They ordered their drinks and an appetizer, some sort of Sangria special and shrimp ceviche to start. The drinks were dangerous, and Gage couldn’t wait to see Sam let her guard down a bit. She’d held it tightly in place since they started work on the film, and it was way past time for her to let it go.

He’d loved seeing her with his dad and sister, knowing they’d see in her what he saw. The people he loved most in the world together laughing, sharing stories, making memories.

She closed her lips around her straw and his gut tightened. Images messed with his brain, none of which were appropriate at the moment, but when she was around he couldn’t quite help his baser instincts.

“Wow. That is good.”

Gage grinned. The energy of the restaurant raised his own to the occasion. He tapped his fingers to the rhythm beating over the speakers. They’d filmed late, which accommodated his plans perfectly. The fun here really started at ten.

Sam bit into a fresh shrimp and closed her eyes.

He shifted in his seat. “Told ya.”

“You’re right. It’s different, really good.”

She studied him with deep brown eyes. Always so serious, he loved to see them lit in amusement or passion. He wanted to remove all of her fears. He wanted to protect her; since the night they’d met, he’d never stopped wanting. It sucked ass. But tonight held the promise of something more.

Reaching out, she tapped the top of his hand with her fingertips, lingering a moment before she wrapped them around her glass. “So, karaoke. What else do you like?”

A ghost of the sensation remained, and Gage missed the contact. He chewed, lost in thought. They talked about a lot of things the night they’d met, but not everything. He knew she loved peanut butter and had an athlete’s passion for swimming. She knew he enjoyed volunteering at Pepperdine’s Smothers Theatre and worked to move his career behind the camera instead of in front of it.

He jabbed his fork in the direction of the Pacific. “I love the water. Anything in the water, surfing, knee boarding, floating on a raft. The heat of the sun, the cold lapping of the ocean against my skin. The solitude.”

They ignored the periodic flashes of cell phone cameras, the whispers, and turning heads. Most were subtle, a few overt, but nothing aggressive or rude. After a while, they became a sort of white noise, like a fan buffering the silence when trying to sleep.

Sam leaned toward him while he spoke, really listened. One of the things he loved about her—damn, there was that word again. Full eye contact, leaning in, as if there wasn’t anything more important in the world than hearing his next word.

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made him feel that way. Usually people were happy to humor him. They laughed at all the right times, nodded their heads appropriately, and answered with agreeable smiles. It drove him nuts. No one cared what
he
said. They just wanted to get on
Gage Cutler’s
good side.

“I can see you out there. Surfing is so you, Mr. ‘I like to live on the edge.’”

Gage couldn’t deny her claim, but there was more, always more. “Partly, but it’s also the idea that being me has nothing to do with it. The waves aren’t going to be gentle just because of the movies I’m in. The sun isn’t going to not burn me just because I’m good publicity. It’s real. Just me and physics. Mother Nature. A challenge and freedom.”

Sam nodded. “I can see that. I feel like that when I’m swimming, but come on. You can’t tell me you don’t like the adoration.” Her tone was light, teasing.

He shifted in his seat. “It’s hard to explain. If the adoration were honest, then I’d love it. But none of it is. Or rarely. Most of the time it’s pure bullshit, people only using me to gain something for themselves. I have a hard time knowing if I’m even any good anymore, because no one will tell me when I do suck. The public as a whole will, hell yeah, even when I don’t. But my associates? They’re on the hunt for the next buck.” He took a long swallow from his glass, the frost on the sides melting under his fingertips. “It’s exhausting. I’m constantly judging my performance while I’m performing. I’d love to just let go, get lost in each scene, but I fear losing sight of what I’m doing and not being told that I need to fix it.”

He pushed back in his seat. “I can’t afford to in this movie. Especially with my name attached as director as well. I’m a serious artist and want to be seen as one.”

Sam smiled. “You’re incredibly talented.”

His chest squeezed. He couldn’t help the goodness that spread through him with her words. She had no desire to fill him with shallow praise, on the contrary. She enjoyed putting him in his place. He lifted his glass in a toast. “Thank you.”

Looking around the restaurant, she turned back to him with a smile. “This is nice, being with you here, I mean. I knew you were a big deal, but even the starring actor from
Stranded
is watching you from the corner of his eye.”

He squeezed his hand into a fist under the table to keep from grabbing her and pulling her to him. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“I thought a lot about what you said, about how strong I really am.”

He stilled.

She pulled her shoulders back. “I’m building the life I want, and spending time with you is one of the things I want. It might not work out, but I want to try.”

The heat in his chest was too much, and he drew a long swallow from his glass. It was everything he could do to keep from dragging her the hell outta there and making her his over and over again. That’s all he could ask for, for now, her to try. They clinked glasses, and the sound lent a cheerful note to the buzzing melody in the room.

“So, why directing?”

Gage leaned forward onto his forearms. “I want to have more options. More control.” He looked about the room. “Hollywood isn’t sweet. It’s bitter and jealous, and eventually I’m not going to measure up. Hell, as it is, my past misdeeds seem to color opinions everywhere I go, though I’m slowly working on that. When the masses decide I’m not handsome enough, hot enough, or
it
enough, I want something else to fall back on that still enables me to create.”

She nodded. “I get that, the need to create.”

He smiled. “Of course. You would. There’s something amazing about connecting with people on such a visceral level, isn’t there? We make them feel. That’s powerful.”

“The most powerful. Isn’t that what people look for or avoid every second of every day? Experience, emotion. We take them there. Sometimes we yank them, and sometimes we tiptoe in, and they never even know what hit them.”

She got him in ways no one ever had before. Creating was as much part of him as his next breath, and he didn’t want to limit it to paper or the screen. Having a family was another form of creation, the purest form.

He emptied his glass, the cool liquid warming his head and loosening his tongue. “I want to create a stable environment for my kids—tuck them in at night, and see their smiling faces each morning. Like my dad did for Bel and me.”

Sam squeezed his hand, and he held her gaze.

“I think it’s really sweet, but do you think it’s realistic?”

Her tone tightened his shoulders. “I’m not asking you to think it’s sweet. It just is.”

Sam sipped from her glass, holding his gaze over the rim, and then set it down, reaching out for his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. It’s just that we see it all the time. Hollywood couples have children and then the poor kids are left in the care of a nanny or shipped off to school, under the guise of offering the best education, so the parents don’t have to give up their Hollywood lifestyle. Or else, only one of the parents is in the game. I feel bad for the kids. I certainly don’t want that for my own children. You only have to look as far as your own mother to see what I’m saying.”

He felt like a sledgehammer hit him in the face, and he released her hand.

Sam threw her hands out. “No, I’m not saying you’re like her in any way. I’m not.”

Gage pulled air in through his nose. “No? Because that’s exactly what it sounded like.”

“I was wrong to even bring her up, I’m sorry. You are nothing, nothing like her. I only meant, that we see it everywhere, even in our own lives.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Like with Ethan.”

She nodded and twisted her hands together at her waist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up that way, but what I’m saying is true. The celebrity lifestyle has commitments that don’t allow much quality time.”

Not for him. Not for his kids. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Sam.”

Her gaze darted around the room, then returned to him. She leaned back as the waiter removed their plates. “Let’s have some fun. What songs are you singing?”

He raised a brow in challenge. “You mean
we
.”

“What?” she squeaked, and her eyes widened.

Their names boomed over the speakers, and he stood. Immediate applause roared from the crowd with catcalls and whistles.

Sam shook her head from side to side. “No, no, no. Gage! I can’t sing,” she finished in a furious whisper.

“Well, lucky for you, I can. I’ve loved karaoke since college.” Before she could decide to leave, he wrapped his hand around her small wrist and helped her to her feet.

“I’m going to kill you. Seriously. Murder you.”

A full-bellied laugh erupted from his throat. It felt good.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I am not going up there.”

Their names were announced again, and cameras flashed. Cell phones lifted with the red recording button on. Gage didn’t care if there were videos of him singing all over YouTube, but she would.

He turned her toward him. “It’ll be fine, fun. This is a paparazzi-free area. Relax.” Turning her toward the stage he added, “You have to. At this point, resisting will make a bigger scene.” He enjoyed this too much. Why, he should even be ashamed. But he wasn’t. Shit. Sam needed to loosen up and quit taking herself, and everybody else, so seriously. It was impossible to get in front of a group of strangers and sing without letting go a little. He counted on it.

Sam drew back her shoulders and narrowed her gaze at him. “I’ll do it, but not because I have to, but because I like a challenge. Got it? But you owe me.”

“What’s that?”

“Ice cream.”

He raised a brow, but she simply nodded. “My favorite place is down at the Country Mart.”

Adrenaline surged through him, and he grinned, followed by a fist pump. “Deal. Ha ha! Let’s do this!”

A look of horror crossed her face but determination soon took its place. Gage had no idea what ran through that head of hers. He bet in about five minutes she’d be having too much fun to care.

…

The flashes, hoots, and hollers sucked the air from her lungs as Sam and Gage stepped onto the stage. How was she supposed to sing with no breath? Her fingers tingled with the pins and needles of shock. Holy hell, the last thing she needed was to pass out on stage.

Pull it together, Dekker.
She shook out her hands and pulled in a breath.

She watched as Gage said a few words to the D.J. and then joined her front and center.

“Ya ready?” The look of excitement on his face did something to her insides.

She was over being so afraid of everything. This was a chance to be bold and brave, and damn it, she
was
ready. “Yes.”

He stared at her a minute. “Sam…I…”

“You what?”

The familiar heavy chords of “Enter Sandman” keyed up.

Sam squealed. “Oh my God.”

She closed her eyes, focusing on the intro music, willing herself to absorb the dark strength of the song and chase the butterflies from her stomach. She glanced out over the expectant faces of the crowd and then over to find Gage rocking his air guitar, and she laughed.

Adrenaline built within her, and with one last breath in, she belted out the first line of the song in unison with Gage.

His eyes shot to hers, wide with surprise as they continued on singing, he with a huge grin stretching his mouth wide. After the first two lines, Sam’s heart found its way back to a gentler cadence, and her lungs filled with air. She felt like she was flying, so light, carefree. How long had it been?

Maybe the song was right, maybe the beast
was
inside her head, and all this time she’d blamed Hollywood.

A warmth of love infused her as she sang, staring into Gage’s eyes. The man opened her up, helped her face her fears, the world. She grinned at him, and he yanked her close, smacking a kiss to her lips in the exhilaration of it all, lights flashed like a disco ball and the crowd roared, but before she could even think, the next song’s guitar blend blasted from the speakers.