The Morning After (13 page)

“Brightman?” Cara’s head swam. Stephen Brightman was the hottest director in America. Juliet had been modest when she’d said it was going to be made into a movie. With Brightman behind it, it would be a blockbuster.

“Anyway, that’s why I said it was weird that you were reading it,” Manny continued, beaming at Ethan. “Stephen Brightman rang me this afternoon, and wants you to screen-test for the lead.”

Chapter Fourteen

The discussion with Manny continued through dinner, that they ate with the rest of the crew in the catering double-decker bus, huddled at a table on the upper deck, at the back. Ethan’s hand caressed her knee under the table, making it darned difficult to concentrate on the conversation. Luckily, she was there only as an observer, so didn’t have to worry too much about it.

When Manny eventually left, they sipped hot coffee from Styrofoam cups.

Cara gazed out at the darkening sky. It would be night by the time they were back in Malibu.

“Penny for them?” Ethan asked, leaning close.

“You’ve really made a life for yourself here,” Cara whispered. Any lingering dreams she been having about Ethan coming home had finally burned up when she’d realized that after this film would be another one. And another. He needed to be here, in America for his career. It was what he’d been working for all his life, from the early days when he went to Dublin stage school.

Donabridge held too many painful memories for him. When his parents’ died he’d felt responsible because his father had started drinking again, and he hadn’t known it. No matter how she’d tried to tell him his mother had hidden the fact from everyone, Ethan believed he could have made a difference. If he’d been home, he would have known, and could have averted the tragedy.

And her life…

In a few weeks she’d be gone. Back to try to remake some sort of life in Donabridge. Realistically, he couldn’t follow. The likelihood of being able to keep a long distance romance going was slim to none. Cara bit her lip, reality sucked.

“Are you regretting last night?” Ethan reached for her hand, and laced his long, tanned fingers through hers. “Because I’m not.”

She turned her head to his. Stared into his dark eyes.
Honesty
. Would she tell him the truth, that the thought of their time together trickling away made her heart feel heavy in her chest, or would she lie, and say she was content with what they had, no matter how fleeting?

“I couldn’t regret last night.” She tried for a smile. “I guess I’m just tired.”

This was Ethan’s life. Not hers. They’d been flung together by a quirk of fate, tied together by the desires and expectations of a capricious public. And when the time was right, they’d part, and no doubt the press would report that Ethan Quinn had broken another heart.

“There’s no more filming for a couple of days. We can sleep late, and then I’ll take you to all my favorite places.” His lips pressed her temple in a quick kiss.

Cara pulled her hand from his and pushed back her hair. Her past lay in ruins; her future would be lonely without him. But she had now. And, no matter the outcome, she intended to enjoy it.

****

The following morning, the phone rang over breakfast.

“I thought you should know,” Maggie’s voice was apologetic. “Zane Blackwell got drunk last night at a strip-club, and took off with a stripper. It’s all over the news.”

Ethan sighed. Aoife’s wedding could be off then, depending on how things panned out over the next few hours. “Have either of them made a statement?”

“Not yet,” Maggie said. “But the stripper is everywhere, telling her story. Apparently they had a wild, sex crazed night, and she has a sex tape to prove it.”

Ethan felt nothing. Not even sympathy for the anguish Aoife would doubtless be feeling now her fantasy love life was in tatters. He’d always protected the ones he loved, and he’d loved Aoife, once. But no more. He walked to the security console and flicked on the camera which focused on the area outside the gate. The paparazzi had gone.

One man’s scandal was another man’s reprieve.

“Thanks for letting me know.” Ethan hung up. At least if he were called for a comment, he’d know what the journalist was talking about. It was small minded to rejoice in the freedom the lack of attention gave, but he reveled in it, nonetheless.

“News?” Cara bit into her toast, and poured him another cup of coffee.

“Aoife’s fiancé caught in sex tape scandal.” He didn’t want to dwell on it. Didn’t want even the shadow of his ex’s distress to fall over their time together.

Cara’s smile wobbled. “Was that her?”

“It was Maggie.” He swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “She wanted me to know in case anyone asks for a comment.”

“Are you going to call Aoife?” Cara’s head tilted to the side. “Because I know…”

“Aoife and I are history. Have been for a long time. Events in her love life aren’t anything to do with me, and believe me,” he leaned close and wiped a tiny crumb off her top lip, “I’m not even remotely interested in Aoife.”

Cara’s throat moved. She blinked a couple of times, then lifted her lips to his. “Good,” she murmured against his mouth, moments before she kissed him.

The prospect of investigating all that Malibu had to offer alone had never held much appeal, but with Cara by his side, it became fun. In the days that followed, they trekked through Malibu Creek, stopping to watch climbers scaling the Planet of the Apes wall, and continued down the rocky path to Century Lake, with hills of porous lava and striped layers of rock.

They went to Zuma Beach because Cara wanted to check out the Baywatch lifeguards. Shared a pizza in a little restaurant with tables that faced the blue ocean. And talked about everything. When he’d brought Aoife out, she’d always wanted to go to the celebrity haunts, had her head turned by the attention. Cara was the complete opposite. But of course, she’d always been more interested in spending time with him than being seen, hadn’t she?

Not for one moment would Ethan have believed he’d fall for his best friend so quickly, so completely. Their time together was ticking away. He didn’t want her to go. Couldn’t stand the thought of there being an ocean between them. Laughing with Cara, watching the way the sun glinted in her golden hair, and the way her eyes turned dark navy when he kissed her were becoming so familiar, so needed, that his gut clenched at the thought of being without her.

The matter of her departure lay like a dark boulder between them. He hadn’t missed her words to the press that she was staying for a couple of weeks, even when he suggested she should stay longer. Even a month, to see how things panned out between them, was too short. They were going to have to talk about it.

“Wow.” Cara looked down at the chocolate dessert the waitress had just delivered to their beachside table. “That’s one hell of a pudding.”

“If you can’t manage it…” Ethan eyed the concoction, regretting choosing only coffee to finish their meal.

Cara waved to the waitress. “Can I have another spoon?”

The blonde grinned, nodded and brought one over.

“I’ll share. If you’re sure you can risk the calories?” One eyebrow rose. Her gaze scanned his torso.

Ethan surreptitiously tugged up his T-shirt, flashing his abs. “What do you think?”

Cara’s tongue swiped over her top lip. She flushed pink. “Stop that,” she muttered in a deep voice.

Ethan let his shirt drop, and leaned close, gazing at her lips. “You like?”

Cara shifted on her seat. “You know damn well I like. And if you don’t stop looking at me like that…”

“Like what?” Ethan teased, moving his chair closer so he could stroke a hand across her thigh covered in the light cotton of her yellow sundress.

Cara’s eyes widened. Her hand landed on top of his, halting his slow exploration of her thigh. “Stop.”

“No one’s watching.”

She picked his hand up, and deposited it on his lap.

“Eat your dessert.” She handed him the spoon. Helped herself to a spoonful, and licked the chocolate cream off her lip with barely disguised delight. “Then you can show me how quickly you can drive us home.”

****

Ethan was useless at obeying. As she dipped into the dessert again, his jaw line tightened, and he reached for the spoon and put it down on the plate.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you look, eating that bloody cake?” he muttered. “Watching you is torture.”

Desire, which was already taking over her entire body, flooded Cara, tightening her nipples beneath the gauzy top of her sundress. Heat pooled between her thighs as his eyes swept over her. Dessert forgotten, she reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. “Let’s go.”

Her hand rested on his thigh as he drove home as if the hounds of hell were pursuing them. The engine had barely stopped when he jerked her door open, and pulled her out into his arms.

His hands molded her breasts, and with a muttered curse, he picked her up and strode inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

By the sofa, facing the sea, he undid the zip, and pulled the dress down, leaving her standing in only her lacy panties and high heeled sandals. With harsh movements, he quickly stripped, and tumbled her onto the sofa, urgency ripping away finesse as he kissed her frantically, hands cupping her breasts.

Cara’s heart raced. Her hands were at the nape of his neck, her fingers brushing his hair, feeling the warmth of his neck. She was shaking. So turned on, she couldn’t hold back the moans that escaped her throat.

Ethan pulled down her panties and tossed them over the sofa. His mouth pressed against her neck, lower and lower, each kiss setting off tiny explosions within.

They’d made love all night. And again this morning. But she wanted him with an urgency that defied reason. All that mattered was being closer. Being one. She reached between their bodies, and stroked him.

Ethan groaned, and she felt him shudder.

“Condom.” He eased off her, and reached for his jeans, pulling out a small foil packet and quickly sheathing himself.

As his hand feathered across her hip, Ethan’s forehead rested on hers. His dark eyes were almost black as their gazes locked. Time stood still. Cara’s heart expanded, beating hard against her ribcage.

“You know I love you, don’t you, Cara mia?” He dusted his lips across hers in a soft caress.

Words dried in Cara’s throat. She swallowed. “Yes.” With her whispered word, a slow smile tilted the corners of Ethan’s lips. His hand stroked across her stomach, and her legs parted. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Look at me,” Ethan murmured.

Her eyes fluttered open, surrendering to the intensity of his gaze.

Ethan’s body claimed hers in a slow slide.

Cara gasped.

“Cara mia,” Ethan whispered. The intimacy of their bodies moving together was matched by the connection of their souls as his mouth met hers in a drugging kiss.

Cara was falling, losing herself in the perfection of the moment, the knowledge that she couldn’t deny the truth to herself any longer.

She mustn’t read more into his words than he’d meant. He’d always said he loved her. They were friends, had always been friends. He couldn’t mean he loved her the way she wanted him to, the way she loved him.

But on cresting the wave together, staring into each other’s eyes, his soul was as naked as their bodies, and for a foolish moment, Cara let herself believe what her heart wanted, and showed him she loved him too.

Chapter Fifteen

Cara woke to a hand on her shoulder.

Ethan stood by the bed, fully dressed. “It’s the last day of filming. If all the rushes are okay, this movie is wrapping tonight.” He sat down next to her and kissed her neck. “When I get home, I’m taking you out for dinner.”

He’d be exhausted. “I could cook?”

Ethan shook his head. “No, I’ll be hungry. Better not risk it,” he teased.

Cara scooted up in bed. “I’m not that bad a cook you know, I’ve been practicing while you’ve been away.”

One dark eyebrow arched.

“Well, I’m not great either,” she admitted. “Maybe we could get a takeaway?”

Ethan glanced at the clock. “I better run, the car is waiting. What are you going to do today? You can take the car if you like.”

“I thought I’d read for a while.” She reached for the paperback on the bedside table. “I’ve almost finished Juliet’s book. I’m dying to see what happens.”

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, and stood. “I got a text from Maggie last night. Apparently we’ve been invited to a party tomorrow night. At Stephen Brightman’s.”

Excitement bubbled through Cara’s veins. Her first, and no doubt last, Hollywood party. Luckily, she’d brought the perfect dress, never really thinking she’d have the opportunity to wear it.

“I guess this means you’ll need to go shopping?” Ethan asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Ethan kissed her quickly and squeezed her upper arm. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever known who would pass up a chance at a shopping trip.” He glanced at his watch. “See you later.” And with that, he was gone.

Yet another example of how different she was from his usual girlfriends.
She had no job, no prospect of one, and fairly scant savings, which would be taking a hit for the ticket home again.

Cara sighed, and pulled the duvet up to her chin. There was no way she was splurging on a dress she didn’t need. No doubt Ethan’s other girlfriends had been quite happy to let him pay for their clothes too. The mere idea irritated. There had to be some way she could use her English degree—maybe teaching a night class, or teaching foreign students English.

Her job prospects in Donabridge were non-existent. But maybe in Dublin… She rubbed her palms over her eyes. The school would have to give her a reference. She’d been a good teacher. She couldn’t let one ridiculous incident change her life so completely. She needed to come up with a plan for her future. And quick.

She picked up Juliet’s book. At least she could finish the book, so if Juliet was at Brightman’s party she could talk about it knowledgeably.

****

In the moments between takes, Ethan’s mind returned relentlessly to the previous night. He’d asked Cara if she knew he loved her. And all she’d said was yes. She hadn’t told him she loved him too.