Текст книги "Crazy Beautiful"

Автор книги: Penny Dee

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HARLOW

“It’s called a hangover,” Bridge said, handing me a glass of water and two aspirin. “Hanging out in a club all night drinking beer and bourbon will do that to you.”

She sat on the edge of the bed next to me. The movement on the mattress made my brain cartwheel inside my skull. I looked at her as blood drained from my face and then I bolted to the bathroom to throw up.

“You know, you’re going to have to toughen up if you plan on hanging out with a band at a club till all hours,” Bridge called out, with what sounded like a smile in her voice.

I squeezed my eyes shut, threw up again, and then fell against the bathroom wall, cursing the invention of alcohol.

Bridge ducked her head around the corner. “Are you okay?”

Keeping my eyes shut, I whispered, “If you love me, you will kill me.”

In fear of the jackhammer starting up again in my brain I didn’t want to move.

Bridge knelt down in front of me. “Did Heath Dillinger do this to you?”

“No.” I opened one eye. “Why would you assume he was involved?”

“Because where there is trouble, there is usually Heath Dillinger.”

“He was too busy to even notice me,” I murmured, shutting my eye. My fractured brain rolled back to the image of the stunning redhead and how he was too consumed sticking his tongue down her throat to notice me leave.

“Well that’s not what I heard.”

“Heard? It’s nine am and you’ve already heard something?”

“I have my spies.” I felt her stand up. “You didn’t think I’d let you stay out all night and not have someone out there keeping an eye on you did you? I’m your older cousin. I take the responsibility of keeping you alive very seriously, you know.”

She grabbed my hands to help me up. “Come on, a shower will make you feel better.”

The motion of standing up sent waves of nausea crashing over me and I threw up into the toilet again.

“I’m sorry,” I groaned, forcing myself upright. “It’s my first hangover.”

“I know. And lucky me gets to witness it.”

Chapter Three HARLOW

Fat Tony’s Pizza Palace was an Orange County icon. For more than three decades it had served the best tasting pizza this side of Tuscany.

It was also known for the bands that played on the small stage across the far side of the room. Unknown bands would play one night, followed by well-known bands the next. It was a lucky dip. You never knew what you were going to get. Fat Tony never advertised who would be playing. If the band wanted to advertise, it was up to them, but he never tried to attract customers with band names. He didn’t have to. His pizzeria was an icon, like the Rainbow Bar on Sunset, or The Roxy and the Troubadour.

Over the years some of the larger, more famous bands that sold out stadiums began to use it as a venue for side gigs, or surprise gigs. Fat Tony figured they liked to relive the early days, when a small crowd gave them more intimacy with their fans. After a few big names had done it, others followed and soon he had a wall full of signed plates from some of the biggest names in the music industry.

Fat Tony’s Pizza Palace, or The Palace, as it was called, was in desperate need of renovation. Dimly lit, with carpet that had seen better days, the interior was stuck in the seventies and the once shiny red vinyl in the booths that lined the walls had worn down to a dull sheen. But it was easy to forgive the weathered interior because of the atmosphere. If there wasn’t a band playing, the awesome jukebox across the room was always belting out something worth singing along to.

Five minutes into my shift I was positive I was going to love working there. Both Bridget and Piper were rostered on and they were guaranteed to make my time working there a lot of fun.

When Leo arrived, I knew without a doubt that I belonged there.

The uniform was simple; we either wore jeans or denim shorts and a top. Because I had never owned a pair of jeans (my mama didn’t allow denim in the house) Bridget had loaned me a pair of her denim shorts until I could go shopping for my own. They were short and showed off more leg than my daddy would like. But they were comfortable and cool.

Leo nudged me on the ass with his hip as he strutted by.

“Hot patootie! Wait ’til the animals get a look at those pins … girlfriend, you’ll retire to the Bahamas on those tips.” And then he smacked his lips together and made noises like he was enjoying a delicious rack of ribs.

As far as jobs went, it was pretty easy. I took orders for pizza and drinks, sent them to the kitchen or the bar, and then served the customers with their orders when they were ready. It looked pretty straightforward.

Not that I’d ever done it before. My high-society affected parents were filthy rich and frowned upon the idea of their children working until after college when we would get proper jobs. It didn’t matter how much their unaffected children begged them. So when my friends were serving fries and pizzas, I was somewhere being taught how to be a proper Southern lady or raising funds for one of my Mama’s charities.

But this didn’t look difficult. In fact, it looked like a bit of fun.

Thankfully we started off slow so I could learn and work out a system. And by the time I was rushed off my feet taking orders and serving, I had pretty much found my groove. It was fun and I managed to score plenty in tips, which I think had more to do with the amount of leg I was showing, than my waitressing skills.

Overall it had been a pretty successful first day. That is, if you didn’t take into consideration the beer I accidently tipped over the hot looking guy sitting by himself in one of the booths near the jukebox.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” I gasped horrified, quickly grabbing some serviettes to wipe up the beer. I was sure he’d be pissed at me but when I looked up, he was smiling.

“It’s okay. No harm done.” He seemed more amused by my fussing than pissed about the beer all over his sleeve.

“I’m not usually such a klutz.”

“First day?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Either that or you wanted to get my attention.” His green eyes twinkled up at me. “Which I think would be very cool, by the way.”

Was he flirting with me?

“Let’s put it down to being my first day. And after this, hopefully not my last.”

“I promise not to tell … on one condition.”

I raised a brow. “And what’s that?”

He leaned forward and grinned. “You tell me your name.”

What was it with these Californian guys? Why did they feel they needed to blackmail me into telling them my name? Back in Georgia when we wanted to know someone’s name, we asked them.

I smiled. Because it made me think of Heath. Which was unexpected. Just like the butterflies in my belly.

“Harlow,” I replied, pushing Heath and the butterflies he gave me, aside.

He offered me his hand. “Nice to meet you Harlow. I’m Dean.”

“Nice to meet you too, Dean. Sorry about throwing your beer at you,” I joked and his grin grew wider as his eyes studied me.

“It’s no problem. It gave us the opportunity to meet. And for that I’m grateful.”

I threw the wet serviettes onto my tray. “I’ll be back with another beer and this time I promise not to throw it all over you.”

When I returned with a freshly poured beer, I noticed Piper had brought him his pizza in my absence.

“So Harlow, do you get a lunch break?” he asked. “Because I would love you to join me.”

I shook my head. Even though I was due for a break, I didn’t know what the policy was about dining with the customers. “I appreciate the offer but I’m not due for a break for a while. But you enjoy.”

He stopped me from leaving by putting his hand on my forearm. “How about dinner then? Or is the real reason you’re turning down this delicious pizza because you have a boyfriend? I imagine a girl as beautiful as you would have a boyfriend?”

I shook my head. “No. No boyfriend. And I didn’t come to California looking for one either.”

He nodded and after thinking about it for a moment, asked, “What about a guy who is a friend?”

I smiled. He was very cute. I nodded.

“Now that, I can handle.”

“Excellent. Then let me take you for coffee tomorrow.”

I relaxed a little, grateful I wouldn’t have to go into the whole spiel about not wanting to date anyone. Tomorrow was my day off and other than shopping for jeans, I really didn’t have much else planned. Plus, this guy was a hottie. And he seemed like a nice enough guy. Friendly. Funny. Easy going.

“Okay. Coffee sounds like fun.”

We made arrangements to meet at a coffee shop just down from the Pier the following day.

The lunchtime rush hit not long afterwards and I didn’t see him again until I was standing at the bar waiting for Leo to pour a couple of beers. He ducked his head around the corner on his way out the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at ten?”

I nodded, my cheeks flushed because I could feel Leo smirking next to me. Dean grinned and disappeared out the door.

Fully aware Leo had something smart-assed tumbling around on his tongue, I turned to him and warned, “Don’t you say a word.”

He looked at me with a flamboyant what me? and then mimed zipping his lips closed with his fingers.

“It’s just coffee. With a friend,” I insisted. When Leo didn’t reply and just stared at me like he was holding his breath, I sighed, frustrated. “Okay. Speak.”

He dramatically unzipped his lips. “Honey, his idea of coffee will get you pregnant.”

I threw a dishrag at him. “It’s not like that.”

He shrugged. “Hey, don’t sweat it, patootie. I like coffee. I’d coffee all day and all night if I could. I’d coffee for breakfast, lunch and for dinner.”

“Of course you would.”

He winked. “You just gotta ask yourself if he is who you really want to have coffee with.”

* * * * *

I worked until four o’clock and on my way home stopped in at the grocery store across the road to get something for dinner. There was a homeless man sitting in the sun on the steps outside the supermarket. He was unshaven, quiet and despite the heat of the afternoon he wore an army jacket. What looked like his life’s possessions were tied up in a bundle behind him. He strummed a guitar and his guitar case was open with only a handful of coins glinting in the late afternoon sunlight.

Before heading into the market I stopped in front of him, and dug into my pocket for what I had received in tips and handed him the roll of notes. There was close to a hundred dollars. He stopped strumming and looked up at me. I didn’t say anything to him but I nodded and he nodded back. He had kind eyes and I could see his face masked the pain and grief of whatever had led him to be there, on the side of the road, alone.

As I entered the supermarket I heard him say in a gravelly voice, “Thank you, Miss. God bless you.”

It was nothing. I’d grown up surrounded in wealth and I would never have to go without if I didn’t want to. I liked earning my pay, but my tips were best used by someone less fortunate.

Standing in front of the freezer section, I was too busy deciding which frozen TV meal was going to be my dinner to notice him until he spoke.

“Are you stalking me?”

Looking up I saw his reflection in the glass doors of the freezer. He was standing behind me, dressed in jeans, his sleeves pushed up to reveal strong, tattooed forearms. With his closed-lip smile and dimples the overall package was ridiculously hot.

“Stalking?” I turned to face him and flashed him a look of mild disgust. “Hardly.”

Blue eyes took in the length of me and then settled on mine. Penetrating. Magnetic. It was a look I felt all over me. His appreciation for my tiny shorts and tight shirt was reflected all over his amazing face.

“What happened to you the other night? Why did you run away?” he asked.

“Run away?”

Wait. Had he really expected me to hang around and wait for him to finish mauling the girl in the red dress so we could go to breakfast together?

I raised a brow at his directness, and smiled. “Last I saw you were … preoccupied.”

When he realized what I was talking about, he grimaced. At least he had the courtesy to look uncomfortable.

“Oh … you saw that.”

Amused by his discomfort, I tipped my head to the side. “Yeah, I saw that.”

“Sorry, H-bomb,” he said sincerely. “She’s a friend from out of town … I hadn’t expected her to turn up …”

I smiled and shrugged. “It’s okay … you don’t owe me an explanation. It doesn’t bother me.”

His perfectly shaped brows drew in as he frowned. I don’t think he liked that I’d seen him with the redhead. Either that, or he didn’t like the idea that it didn’t bother me. I couldn’t be sure. But I think he was hoping for more of a response from me. Who knew with him?

His eyes dropped to the frozen dinners in my hand. “I didn’t take you for a TV dinner kinda girl.”

“It’s not by choice, believe me. But it’ll do until I can do a proper grocery shop.” I held up both boxes. “Mac and cheese? Or chicken parmigiana with roast vegetables?”

“Neither.” He shook his head and took the frozen dinners from me and put them back into the freezer. “C’mon. I still owe you breakfast,” he said closing the freezer doors.

“It’s five o’clock in the afternoon. A little too late for breakfast don’t you think?”

“Or early. Depends on which way you look at it.” He winked and started to head down the cereal aisle towards the front doors. “C’mon, I’m starving.”

I followed him out the front doors and into the late afternoon sunlight. When I saw the Harley, I faltered.

“Oh don’t be a baby!” he said climbing on.

Hesitantly, I followed him, awkwardly straddling the back of the Harley.

“I guess it’s one way to get between my legs,” I grumbled as I tied my hair into a knot on top of my head.

Heath laughed and grabbed my hands, securing them around his waist.

“I like how you think, H-bomb,” he said, flicking down his aviators.

With a flick of his strong wrist the Harley rumbled to life and he eased us into the traffic. It only took me a few minutes to relax and begin to enjoy our ride through the sunny streets. The warmth of his body against my chest and the deep vibration of the motorbike sent tiny tremors down my spine and throughout my body. I could hold onto him all day and night and not get tired of it.

Wind whipped past us and I ducked in closer to shield myself against its cool bite. Holding him this close I could feel the taut muscles beneath his t-shirt whenever he moved and the sensation was … wow.

All too soon our ride was over and we pulled up out the front of a dinner with the name Johnny Rockets illuminated in a neon sign out the front.

Johnny Rockets was a quintessential 1950s diner with a shiny checkered floor and gleaming red booths. Framed posters of Marilyn Monroe, James Dean and other icons of the era lined the walls alongside ’50s pin up girls in modest bikinis. Against one wall an old-style jukebox played early rock n roll. The smell of burgers and fries lingered with that of milkshake and cherry pie.

We slid into a booth along the far wall. It was too early for the dinner crowd, and apart from a couple at the soda bar and a table of tourists at a booth by the front windows, it was quiet.

Straightaway an eager blonde waitress appeared at our table.

“Hey, Heath, sugar,” she greeted Heath in a heavy Texan accent and with a playful wink. Shiny pink lips parted into a large white smile. Her blonde hair was pulled into a style reminiscent of the era and she wore a tight Rockabilly dress that did little to hide her curves. “How’s my favorite babe? Have you been behaving?”

Heath smiled, feigning innocence. “When don’t I?”

Her long lashes blinked and she smiled. “Oh I can think of a few times. Can I get you your usual drink?”

He nodded. “Thanks Elly.”

“What about you honey?” She turned her attention to me, her blue eyes twinkling and rolling over me. “What can I get you?”

Heath leaned forward. “You should try the malt shakes here. They’ll ruin you.”

I was all for a bit of ruining so I shrugged, “Okay. Why not.”

I could feel the waitress looking at me. “Sure thing. I’ll be back with your drinks and I’ll take your order then.” An unusual look passed between her and Heath. It was a secret smile from her that made his dimples crease in his cheeks.

I frowned.

“What?” Heath asked.

After watching the gorgeous blonde disappear into the kitchen, I asked, “A fan of yours?”

Heath looked puzzled. “Elly?”

“If that’s what her name is.”

“It’s what’s on her name badge,” he said with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

“Whatever. I guess I should just be pleased she isn’t throwing a drink at you.”

Heath laughed. “She hasn’t come out with them yet. Maybe you should get ready to duck.”

“Really? You’ve nailed her too?” I rolled my eyes. “Why am I surprised?”

Heath burst into laughter, holding his palm flat against his stomach. “Oh c’mon H-bomb! You seem think if it has girlie bits and a pulse that I have nailed it. I’m not really that bad.”

Girlie bits? Did he really just say that?

I shrugged. “I don’t care.”

His smile faded and his eyes were serious. “I didn’t nail her.”

I shrugged again. “Like I said, I don’t care. Y’all can sleep with whomever you like. It makes no difference to me.”

He took on a mischievous look. “H-bomb, I wouldn’t have a chance with Elly if I were the last man on earth.”

“C’mon Heath. I saw the look she gave you when she was walking away. It’s okay. I’m here for the food. Not to sleep with you.”

“You’re not going to sleep with me, I get it.” He leaned in, his eyes bright and a playful smile on his face. “And that look … that was Elly letting me know she approves.”

“Of what?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “You.”

“Me?”

“Don’t be so surprised. You’re gorgeous.”

“I’m confused.”

He grinned. “Let’s just say, you would have more of a chance with Elly, than me.”

Momentarily, I was puzzled and then it dawned on me. “She…?”

Heath nodded. “Likes women … yes.”

I cocked a brow at him. “Bullshit.”

“True story.”

I studied his face for a moment and then shrugged. “Whatever.”

“She thinks you’re hot. I can tell.”

“Of course you can.” I studied my menu.

He cocked his brow in the sexist way. “I do too.”

I shot him a warning look over my menu. Even if it was kind of nice hearing him say it. I decided to change the subject.

“So, are there more Dillingers, or did they break the mold when they made you?”

He grinned. “I have an older brother, Leigh, and a younger brother and sister, Nikki and Rhett. They’re twins.”

“Do you see them often?”

“I live with them. A few years back Mom and Dad bought a property in Napa Valley but us kids stayed in the family home.” He shrugged. “We make it work. And it’s nice having them around. As a family we’re pretty close. Although, Leigh is away a lot because he competes in the UFC and Rhett’s at college and lives on campus. Well he says he does, but he always seems to be at our place eating our food.”

He dipped his French fries in mayo and then ketchup. “We also have cousins in Alabama. Dad was born in Eureka and still has family there.” He bit into his French fries. “What about you? Is it just you or are there more of you back in Georgia?”

“I have an older brother, Harry. Well it’s Harrison, actually, but he’d cringe if y’all called him that. He’s twenty-one. And then there’s Harper, my younger sister. She’s sixteen going on twenty-one.”

When I looked up Heath was grinning.

“What?”

“I just enjoy listening to your accent.”

“I don’t have an accent.”

“You’re in my town now, remember? You’ve got an accent and it’s awesome.”

I rolled my eyes and Elly arrived with our drinks. I had to admit that the malt shake was just as amazing as Heath had said. Trying not to make eye contact with Elly, only because I knew it would make Heath happy to see me blush under her gaze, I ordered my burger and fries off the menu, fully aware of Heath’s amused grin.

When she left, I took a mouthful of my frothy milkshake.

“So how did you come up with the name Vengeance?”

“It’s from a John Legend song called ‘Who Did That To You?’ Do you know it?”

When I shook my head he explained. “It’s from the first two lines of the song.” He sang them to me and added, “It’s an awesome song. Slow tempo. Distinct beat. Dark undertones. It’s a promise of revenge.” His blue eyes gleamed. “Quiet revenge.”

“Have you thought of doing a cover of it?” I asked.

“I thought about it. But I don’t really want to mess with it.”

“Do you have any other favorite songs you’d like to do?”

“In the real early days we use to do quite a few covers. Credence Clearwater’s ‘Run Through the Jungle’, Pink Floyd’s ‘Young Lust’, hell, I even managed to get David Bowie’s ‘Starman’ mashed into one of our sets mid-performance one night. 70s glam rock with twenty-first century metal … who would’ve thought it would prove to be so popular.” He shrugged and asked, “What about you, H-bomb? What song do you think we should cover?” before biting into his burger.

I picked up a fry, dipped it into mayonnaise and thought for a moment, before popping it into my mouth. Music had been a big part of my growing up back in Georgia. My cousin, Bobby—Bridget’s older brother—was a massive music lover and had bought me my first iPod. He introduced me to good old rock n roll.

“That’s easy,” I said. “Gimme Shelter. The Rolling Stones. It would have to be my favorite of all time.”

Heath’s eyebrows disappeared all the way up his brow. “You know The Stones?”

“I grew up in Georgia, Heath. Not on Mars.” I took a sip of my milkshake. “I grew up on the classics. Led Zepplin. Hendrix. Pink Floyd. Ozzy.”

Heath smiled broadly. “So under all that cashmere and pearls, you’re just a badass rock chick.”

I laughed. “Hardly.”

“Zeppelin? Hendrix? I think I just fell in love with you.” His eyes twinkled and he looked amused as he popped fries into his mouth. “Enough about me. What’s your story? Is there someone back home? Some preppy prince back on the plantation pining away for you amongst all his money?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore. We broke up just before I came out here.”

“Oh yeah? Why? Did the good girl want to be bad out west?”

“He was cheating on me.”

Heath paused and was still and then said with what seemed like genuine regret, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m okay with it now.  I got over it.” I smiled. “Anyway, the more time I spend out here the more I realize he did me a favor.”

A half-smile curled on his lips. “How long were you together?”

“Two years.”

He whistled. “I haven’t been with a girl for two days let alone two years.”

I didn’t go into details about Colton’s cheating but I did notice how the thought of it didn’t register even the remotest hint of hurt inside. It hadn’t always been the case. When I’d discovered Colton had been having an affair with my best friend I had been devastated. It was like my world had been ripped away. On the same day I had lost my boyfriend and my best friend. It was one of the reasons my parents had relented and let me come out to California. They thought the break from Colton would do me some good. I guess they assumed I was still pining for him. The truth was I wasn’t but I just used their assumptions to my benefit.

“So you’ve never been in a long-term relationship?” I asked.

He chuckled. “No. Never.”

“Really?”

He smiled. “I’m not boyfriend material. Or so I’ve been told.”

After we’d finished our burgers, I noticed the smallest amount of mayonnaise on the corner of his mouth and without thinking, reached over and wiped it with my napkin. It surprised both of us.

Immediately, heat flamed against my cheeks.

OMG, why the hell did I do that?

Heath’s eyes were bright and then gleamed. They held mine in a blue gaze that drew the air from my lungs. A small half-smile tugged at his lips, deepening the dimples either side of his mouth.

Embarrassed, I sat back and looked away.

“We should go,” I mumbled, not sure what had just happened.

“I like that you did that,” he said quietly.

I looked up at him and felt a small tug on my heart. Away from the stage lights and hordes of screaming women, he looked harmless and gentle. Not that he was your regular Joe. The absence of his stage persona didn’t make him any less attractive. In truth, he was devastating. I could see why all the girls fell for him.

But I could also see he was trouble. And not someone you could trust with your heart. It would be exhausting trying to compete with all those girls who went to watch them play. I’d just left a whole world of trouble behind me and I was done with the popular boys. The next guy was going to be vanilla safe, not beautiful dangerous like Heath Dillinger.

“Can I take you for a ride somewhere?” he asked.

“Where to?”

“Somewhere special,” he said as he pulled several bills from his billfold and dropped them on the table.

“Sure. Why not.”

I may have been wary of this beautiful man but I wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet. I guess you could say my curiosity was piqued. He was a nice guy and I actually enjoyed being around him.

Plus, I was pretty much friendless in California so I was running low on offers.

We slid out of the booth and I turned to grab my denim jacket. I didn’t notice the attractive brunette until she was standing in front of us. Her face was a contorted mask of anger. Eyes heavy with makeup bounced back and forth between Heath and me.

Before I could avoid it, she flung her milkshake at us. Chocolate milk flew out of the silver milkshake cup and, of course, I bore the brunt of it.

“You’ve. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me!” I exclaimed, shaking chocolate milk from my hands. I glared at Heath. “Really? REALLY?”

Seriously? What was the go with this guy and these women throwing their drinks at him?

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled at the brunette. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“You, you jerk!” she shrieked. “I had a great time, you said. I’ll call you, you said. So I wait for you to call me. I wait for two fucking weeks but no fucking phone call. Did you lose my number? Or are you really just the prick they say you are?”

“Listen I don’t know what your fucking deal is …” He meant to say her name but stalled. This only enraged her further. Her eyes widened and her face went so red I thought she would pop.

“Sherry! My fucking name is Sherry! Or did you forget that right after you fucked me on my grandmother’s couch?”

Eeeeeewwwww! I wrinkled my nose.

“Apologize to Harlow,” Heath demanded looking furious.

She flicked me a vile look, glaring at me as if I had just run over her cat.

“Fuck you and your Harlot!” she snapped, and turning on her stiletto heels, stormed off.

Elly magically appeared with a towel. “Here Sugar, it won’t take the stain out but at least it’ll help dry you off.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, wiping at the stain across my chest. But it was pointless. My white shirt looked like Willy Wonka had thrown up on me.

“Harlow I am so sorry …”

I held up my arms but bit my tongue, afraid of the words that might tumble out. Heath looked crestfallen.

I gave up on my stained shirt and sighed. “I’m going home. Don’t worry about taking me, I’ll catch the bus.”

“No! Please,” He stood in front of me, gently stopping me with his big hands. “I am so sorry …”

“So you keep saying.”

“Please let me take you home. It’s the least I can do,” he said, humbly.

The idea of catching the bus home with a shirt soaked in milkshake didn’t appeal to me. Especially when it made the fabric cling tightly to every curve.

“Fine,” I mumbled and handed Elly the towel. “Thanks Elly.”

“No problem, sugar.” She nodded and then patted Heath gently on the arm. “Take care, babe.”

He nodded solemnly and we left the diner in silence.

* * * * *