Текст книги "Love Unrehearsed"

Автор книги: Tina Reber

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

I glanced out our hotel window, basking in the beautiful sunrise over Rome. It was our last stop on the Thousand Miles press junket and in a few hours we’d be on another plane heading back to the States.

I felt Ryan’s warm chest press into my back. I wrapped my hands over his. “I don’t want to go home.”

He kissed my neck. “We’re not.”

I looked up to see if he was kidding. “We’re not?”

“Nope. We are taking a three-day detour.”

That sounded wonderful. “Can I even ask, or is it a surprise?”

Ryan smirked. “Well, it is sort of a surprise, but there’s this awesome restaurant built inside a cave on this cliff that my woman said she wanted to see.”

It was better than winning the lottery. “For real? You’re not just teasing me, are you?”

He patted my rear end. “I’d never tease. Mike’s taking Marie, too. The four of us are going, but I don’t expect to see much of them.”

I was so happy, I started bouncing on my toes and clapping.

He bounced with me, mocking me. “You want more good news?”

I smiled wider. “Yes!”

“We’re going by helicopter to Polignano a Mare.”

I wanted to bounce out of my skin.

“So pack up, because we catch our ride in two hours.”

After kissing him wickedly for this huge surprise, I dashed around the room, packing up our stuff.

Ryan folded up the dress shirt he wore last night. “Pack only what you’ll need in your backpack.

There’s not a lot of room for luggage inside the cabin.”

I had to do a carry-on overhaul. I had so much crap in my bag that things were starting to fall out.

“I want to call Mike, see if we have a car coming,” Ryan said.

I took the big manila envelope that the woman at the press panel gave me the day before out of my backpack. I was starting to believe I was turning into Ryan Christensen’s briefcase. I had receipts and notes and signed documents galore.

I made a pile of important paper stuff, thinking that the manila folder would be a perfect place to shove it all; unfortunately, it didn’t work out so well. I dumped the contents out on the bed, trying to re-access what was really important to keep.

Papers, brochures, you name it. Junk, junk . . .

Something fell and hit the bed when I opened up one of the brochures from the manila envelope. It was a small piece of folded magazine paper, made into what looked like a tiny envelope.

What the hell? I opened it up and gasped.

My hands started to shake. “Ryan?”

Hearing the alarm in my voice, he came right to my side.

“What’s this?” It looked like chunks of compressed baby powder, and there was a lot of it.

He studied the item in my hands before attempting to take it away from me. “What the fuck? Don’t spill it.”

“What is it?” I asked.

I watched him take a careful sniff, and then his face twisted. “I’m not exactly sure, babe, but I think this is cocaine.”

Chapter 25

Done

I paced nervously while Mike and Ryan analyzed the contents of the little envelope.

“I think Ryan’s right,” Mike announced. “I’m pretty sure this is cocaine.”

I felt my throat tighten. That was in my backpack.

Mike pegged me with inquisitive eyes. “Where did you say you found this?”

I pointed at the manila envelope. “It was in there.”

He picked it up, looking inside. “What else was in here?”

I shuffled through the papers, separating what I believed were the original contents.

To say Ryan was pissed was putting it mildly. “Where did that envelope even come from?”

“Remember the gorgeous redhead? The one with the painted-on skirt and legs that started here?” I pointed to my neck. “She gave it to me. She said it was for you.”

Ryan suddenly slammed his fist into the dining table, stringing along a whole host of expletives.

“I think we should flush this down the toilet,” Mike said, appearing less than happy with Ryan’s outburst. “And then we are going to do a comprehensive check of all our luggage. Shirt pockets, pants, envelopes, everything gets checked. Marie, help Taryn. Go through everything and I mean everything.”

Marie and I dumped out our suitcases.

“Make a fucking list of names,” Ryan ordered. “There are only so many suspects here. When I find out who did this, I’m going to rip their throat out and bury them.”

“We’ve all touched the envelope so prints are out. I don’t think going to the authorities with it would be wise.” Mike shook his head. “We can speculate all we want. Unless someone brags or confesses, I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

Ryan stood, grabbed the little envelope thing with his fingers, and stormed off to the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush a few times.

The evidence was gone.

Ryan came back, staring at Mike as if he could magically come up with answers.

Mike was just as aggravated. “I don’t know, man. Someone was trying to set you up. If one of us had been caught with that, we’d be looking at international jail time.”

Ryan scoffed. “No shit.”

Mike ran his hand over his head. “Well, the good news is you found it before we tried to leave the country. We came in on a commercial flight, so that means the drugs had to be purchased here. Unless we contact the authorities, we have no way of launching an investigation, and you just flushed the evidence.”

“It was in my backpack,” I uttered somberly, holding back tears while I searched Ryan’s pockets for planted drugs. I turned his pocket inside out, feeling as if someone had just done the same thing to me. “I would have gone to jail.” The thought cracked me. Tears blurred my vision while deep. burning sobs rolled up my throat. Visions of being handcuffed again, hauled away like some druggie to be locked away in some foreign women’s prison for years—I couldn’t deal with that.

I’d endured so much, knowing what it felt like to be placed under arrest, seeing Ryan being carted away from me in the back of a police car, the stress, the loss, the lies, the sacrifices.

It was finally too much. Too much.

Ryan fell to his knees next to me on the floor. “Hey, hey, baby. It will be okay. Shh.”

I was shaking so hard, I couldn’t breathe. How much more of this could I endure? “Cocaine, Ryan? I can’t. I want to go home. Take me home.”

Ryan wrapped me in his arms, pulling me between his thighs. “Shh. I’ll take you home.” He kissed my hair repeatedly, rocking me. “It’s you and me, babe. You and me. Everything else is getting cut off. I promise. No more. I won’t put you through this ever again.” I heard his words but I couldn’t believe them.

What was to stop another Lauren or Nicole or even a disgruntled manager from repeating this nonsense?

Nothing.

When Ryan said we needed some air to clear our heads, he wasn’t kidding. He warmed my body as he leaned into me to share the view out of my side of the helicopter after insisting that we follow through on our vacation instead of heading back to the States. He hadn’t let go of my hand since we left the hotel in Rome. I think he was afraid I was going to end things with him.

This trip to Polignano a Mare was definitely a distraction.

Ryan was on edge, pacing around our room after we’d checked into the hotel. I opened the doors, finding some breathing space out on the balcony.

Ryan wrapped his arms around my stomach. “Nice view.”

Staring out at the vast Mediterranean Sea, that was an understatement. “It’s pretty spectacular. Thank you. It was a good idea to come here. Thank you for bringing me here.”

He kissed my neck, lingering for a bit. “Don’t leave me, Taryn.”

I looked up into his eyes, shocked by his words, seeing the fear in his eyes. It gripped my heart.

“You’ve been so quiet. I’m scared to imagine what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ryan. I love you.”

He sighed and met my lips for a kiss. “Thank God. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my heart, Taryn. My heart. I don’t know who did this to us, but I swear I will find out. There will be retribution.”

I shook my head. “Nothing good ever comes from revenge. And any attempt at retaliation will surely bring more problems. No, our best bet is to just let it drop.”

He rested his forehead on my shoulder. “I can’t.”

“Oh sweetheart, you have to. News like this gets out and your picture will be splattered all over the press again. No. No more. We’ve been humiliated enough and I’m sure something will happen to put us back in the news regardless. You’ll sneeze, I’ll have a jealous fit when you have to kiss another actress—it’s always something.”

“No. Not this time. I’m done, Taryn. All I ever wanted to do was make movies but all that brings is fucking pain. No more. When we return to the States, I’m announcing my retirement.”

I looked into his eyes again, not sure if he was actually serious. “Ryan, you love being an actor. It’s what you do.”

He kissed my lips, then rested his forehead against mine. “Not anymore.”

Ryan wasn’t kidding. After we’d returned to the States, he canceled all public appearances, turned down all requests for magazine cover shoots, interviews—everything. He was contractually bound to promote the final Seaside movie but that was it.

Trish and I had talked him out of making any formal public statements about being retired, arguing that

it would only bring more attention. That was something Ryan definitely didn’t want, especially since we had to settle out of court with the photographer he’d punched.

Instead, he devoted himself to building our house—to the point where we practically moved into my pappy’s fishing cabin so we could closely monitor the progress on our adjoining land.

Marie had taken an assignment with Mike in L.A., working private security for a young actor who’d been plagued by an unwanted stalker. She was traveling so much, it was hard to keep up with her, and I missed my best friend. But I also knew she had a job to do; making chitchatty cell calls while protecting someone was frowned upon and could get you killed.

Ryan’s entire celebrity life had ground down to a halt. After a few weeks of the media wondering where he’d disappeared to, other celebrities and their antics took over the front page and Ryan slipped off the radar.

Well, that was until he went grocery shopping with me and was recognized. He’d even grown a light goatee to disguise himself. It didn’t work.

One evening, when I was finally able to talk about the white powder incident again, Ryan had built a nice fire in the fireplace and we curled up on the floor to make a list of suspects.

My money was on Nicole Devin. Lauren had brought her on the European press junket and both of them were always sniffing.

Kyle was also in Rome, but he wasn’t on the top of my list. He’d pretty much ignored me while he hit on the leggy redhead who gave me the envelope and she seemed more than receptive to his charms. But he did have motive and opportunity.

Marla Sullivan was also a suspect to consider. But even though that nasally bitch would probably get her kicks seeing Ryan fall from grace, she didn’t strike me as the type who’d solicit someone to get her cocaine.

And then there was David. Bitter, jaded, asshole David. Ryan had fired him officially in Rome, making sure the weasel knew in no uncertain terms that he’d been terminated. He’d flown off the handle when Ryan had called Aaron, his agent, to make sure the message was passed through the ranks. After that, David spent quite a bit of time scowling at us and bending Marla’s ear, so imagining that those two got together and plotted against us wasn’t too far-fetched.

There were quite a few others that had been on the press tour, but we’d quickly eliminated everyone who had no motive.

But we didn’t make any progress, other than making a short list of people we wanted absolutely nothing to do with ever again. We also had the satisfaction of knowing that whoever did try to set us up had failed miserably.

Despite all the things keeping Ryan busy, I could tell he was unhappy. The sadness was always there, itching like a scab that just wouldn’t heal. I was starting to feel guilty, as if he’d given up acting for me.

As much as I enjoyed being out of the spotlight, I knew in my heart that Ryan wouldn’t be satisfied with life if he didn’t act.

It was in his blood.

It was what he excelled at beyond all other things.

In front of the camera was where he belonged.

Ryan wasn’t living; he was existing. He was doing everything possible to avoid admitting that he was miserable not working. He didn’t need to say it; I could read him well enough to know exactly what

plagued him.

We had set October 20 as our wedding date, taking Mike’s advice and getting married in the Maldives.

I didn’t care where we got married; as long as we had a beachside villa to snuggle in, I’d be content.

But as much as I wanted to marry Ryan, I couldn’t. Not like this.

I needed him whole before he committed to me and he was anything but whole right now.

That light that used to dance in his eyes was gone.

His spirit was broken and it tore me apart.

I had convinced Ryan to return to Seaport with me under the guise that I had business in the bar to attend to, but really I needed a strong Wi-Fi connection, which was nonexistent at the cabin. I knew exactly what I wanted to get Ryan for a wedding gift, but I needed time to execute my plan.

Since the pub wasn’t so busy, Ryan and I decided to have lunch downstairs. We were dying to sample some of the new entrees Tammy was serving up. Even the apartment smelled deliciously edible.

“Did you call your lawyer back?” I asked, trying not to burn my lips on the piping-hot French onion soup I was drooling over.

Ryan nodded, chomping down on his chicken club panini.

“So you told him no prenup? Are you sure?”

Ryan looked me square in the eyes. “Positive. You need a prenup? I’ve got one better.” He grabbed a Mitchell’s Pub napkin from the holder and borrowed a pen from one of the new waitresses. I watched him carefully write on the napkin, doing his best not to tear it. “After all, this love affair of ours really began when you gave me your phone number. Remember?”

I was dying to know what he was writing. I drifted my foot over his under the table. “Of course I remember. I wrote it on a Mitchell’s napkin.”

“Which I still have, by the way.” He smiled fondly. As soon as he was done writing, he placed the napkin across the table in front of me.

I smiled and laughed when I read, “I promise to never fight over the toaster.” It meant a lot that he said that, knowing Marie and Gary had fought over such trivial things.

I motioned for the pen, grabbed another napkin, and wrote, “I promise never to steal your toaster or your TV.”

He laughed and tapped on the napkin. “That better include the remote when I’m watching hockey, hon. Just saying. Give me the pen. It’s my turn.” While he was busy writing, I went behind the bar to grab my own pen.

I came back to “I promise to buy you your own TV so we never have to argue about what’s on.”

That made me laugh. “I draw the line at golf.” I wrote on mine, “I promise to never take your money.”

He stared at me for a few moments and frowned. “That’s a given, Tar.” The note he passed back stated, “I promise to never complain about you spending my money.” And when it comes to stuff for the house, I’m drawing the line at curtain shopping. If you love me, you’ll never ask me what I think about that sort of stuff.”

“Okay, no curtain shopping. Got it.” I put his message on our growing pile and wrote, “I promise to be a good wife.”

His smile was mesmerizing. I got back, “I promise to be a good husband.”

I gazed at the warm, blue eyes that meant everything to me. “We keep this up and we won’t have to write wedding vows.”

“Well if that’s the case.” Ryan quickly scribbled another one. “I promise to start every day and end every night telling you I love you.”

I wanted to climb into his lap. I leaned over the table and kissed him. Trying to top that was difficult. I ended up writing, “I promise to love only you until I take my last dying breath.”

“Till death do us part,” he whispered. His next message: “I promise to love you forever.”

“Well then…” I slapped “I promise to always tend to your needs” in front of him.

He tapped on my napkin vow and grinned. “I’m going to hold you to this one. You know how needy I am.”

His next message said, “I promise to only have eyes for you.”

That one struck me right in the heart. I scribbled on the bottom of it: “For as long as we both shall live?”

He gave me a warm smile, a wink, and a nod.

I quickly followed up with “I promise to give you a blow job on your birthday.”

Ryan held the napkin up, looked like he’d won the lottery for a few seconds, and then asked. “Only on my birthday?” He sorted through the small pile and held up the one that said I’d always tend to his needs.

“I’m thinking I’m way more needy than that, babe. My needs are constant.”

I quickly scribbled, “I promise no matter how needy you get, to never make you sleep on the couch.”

Ryan held up a finger for me to wait while he wrote on his napkin, “Do you promise to talk to me when something is bothering you?”

I wrote on the bottom of it, “Yes, and you?” and passed it back to him.

Ryan wrote his “Yes” underneath mine and underlined it twice.

My next vow stated, “I promise to find a way every day to make you happy.”

He sorted through the sheets and held up the one with the BJ on it. “Can we edit the BJ vow to daily/hourly? That would make me really happy and tend to my needs all in one shot.”

He looked so damn hopeful. How could I ever deny him anything? I sifted through the vows, finding the one that said he’d love me forever. “Since you promised, I’ll see what I can do.”

He reached across the table, took my hand in his, and pulled it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss next to my engagement ring.

Chapter 26

Marry Me

Ryan’s escape from celebrity life only lasted so long. He’d stopped looking at scripts and considering multimillion-dollar roles, which worried me more than he could have ever realized. I knew his career, his A-list status, could only take so much before it would be too late to revive. Fortunately, the premiere for the second Seaside film, Day of Dawn, sucked him right back into the spotlight.

It was almost as if he’d never left. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to miss his hectic lifestyle until we didn’t have it anymore. I missed Mike and Marie even more, and I was grateful that Ryan had another junket to get through so we could all be together again.

I was so glad that the premiere was in L.A. It made making secrets deals that much easier. While Ryan was occupied with the press, I met with two influential producers and negotiated a two-hundred-thousand-dollar purchase. I had to sell all of my family’s vested interests in the wineries to do it, but investing in Ryan’s future was worth it.

Everything had gone off without a hitch.

Things continued to look up two weeks later when we were in Berlin. Mike had stormed into our room, Marie tight on his heels, a grin the size of Texas plastered on his face.

“You will never believe this shit,” he announced, holding out his phone. “I just got a message from my buddy, Nix, who does security out in L.A. If this doesn’t brighten your day, I don’t know what will.”

I’ll never forget the smile on Ryan’s face when he heard Nix say in his message that David Ardazzio, forty-five, was arrested today and charged with possession of 3.5 grams of cocaine.

Justice had been served. We were all able to put that horrible incident behind us.

But that was four weeks ago. I was now looking out at the breathtakingly beautiful blue water from the lanai of our gorgeous beachside villa in the Maldives, getting prepared to make my final walk as a single woman. My groom was off in his parents’ villa, probably feeling just as nervous as I was.

“Your hair looks awesome,” Marie said, spraying to hold it in place. She had twisted my hair into a loose ponytail, fluffing it out to make it look even thicker.

I lightly swatted at her. “Not too much spray. I want Ryan to be able to touch it without it breaking off or getting his fingers stuck.”

Tammy had my sandals in her hands, smiling as if she had a secret. “Shoes or no shoes?”

“You’ve got to go barefoot, Taryn,” Janelle answered. “It’s the only way.”

Tammy smirked. “Well, you may choose not to wear them, but you have to at least read them.”

Read them? “What are you talking about?” She was really excited when she handed over my brand new Stuart Weitzman strappy bridal sandals. I turned them over, seeing a handwritten note penned on the bottom of one of the shoes.

You’re my best friend,

You’re my love,

You’re my life.

I can’t wait to

make you

my wife!

Love, Ryan

My breath hitched as his message sank in. I covered my mouth, holding back from sputtering. I had envisioned the man I would marry one day, and Ryan had transformed that image into an unbelievable dream. I wasn’t nervous anymore. I knew with absolute certainty that my Ryan wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I handed the shoe over to Ellen so she could see her son’s sentiment. Tammy was already reduced to a pool of tears, spurring me to cry harder while I was reprimanded for ruining my makeup.

A few minutes later, Ryan’s mom uncovered my dress. It was white silk and had a thin ribbon crisscrossed over the open back. I received four nods of approval when I first tried it on but my teeth chattered now as I shimmied into my dress.

Janelle unwrapped my three solitaire diamond necklace—my “something new” wedding gift from Ryan. I had my mother’s beaded hair comb that she wore when she’d married my dad, tucked into the top of my loose braid—my something old. As much as I wished my parents could have been alive to see me on this special day, I knew that they were looking down on me. They were be in the sunrays that cracked through the clouds and the warm breeze that tickled my skin.

Jill had a small box in her hand. “This is from Joe and me. Thank you for letting us be a part of your day, Taryn. It means the world to your father and to me that you’ve included us.”

I hugged Jill, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for being here.”

She touched my face and smiled. “Go on. Open it.”

My fingers fumbled opening the lid. I gasped when I saw the exquisite sapphire bracelet. “Oh my God!

This is beautiful!”

“It’s your something blue,” she said happily.

“Thank you so much! Would you help me put it on?”

Leave it to Janelle to yank me back into reality with her humor. “We have to go soon This is the easy part. Not killing him when he ticks you off is the hard part.”

I gaped at Ellen as she was nodding her head. “You’re telling me there are times you want to kill Ryan’s father?”

“Oh yes,” she admitted. “It’s not often—maybe three or four times a year—but it definitely happens.”

I looked over at Tammy.

She agreed. “I threatened to kill Pete on the flight over here.”

Marie was finishing trussing up my dress when I caught a sparkle on her hand. Her fingers were bare when she was putting on my makeup.

I spun so fast I almost fell over. I grabbed her hand. “Oh my God! What is this?”

Marie smiled coyly. “Mike proposed to me last night!”

I was so elated; it was hard to contain myself. Could this day get any better? I hugged her fiercely.

“How? When?”

Marie giggled. “Last night. He took me for a walk on the beach and told me that he’s never felt this way about anyone and he can’t imagine living life without me.”

I think I screamed. I definitely know I was tugging hard on her left hand, taking in the huge rock on her finger.

“He then said he didn’t want to wait to ask; he didn’t want me to think that he was motivated by your wedding or anything.”

I hugged her again, whispering my words of congratulations. This was a big step, but I knew no matter

what happened, I’d always have her in my life. After all, her three-bedroom house was physically attached to mine—separated only by a breezeway.

Marie gave me a smile. “What say we go get you married? Ryan Christensen is waiting.”

There was a gentle knock on my door before I saw my birth father, Joe, peek around the corner.

“Everyone dressed and ready?” he asked.

I smiled at his awkwardly innocent expression. Ryan had flown Joe and his family here for me as a surprise. They may not have been my parents growing up, but without Joe, I wouldn’t have this moment, and that meant a lot to me.

The sun was just starting to set when I walked on shaky knees down the beach. I held Joe’s arm as he steadied me.

I felt instant relief when I saw that Ryan was in fact standing next to the man who would be officiating our union.

As soon as I saw him there with his hands clasped in front of him, his hair gently tussled by the ocean breeze, that breathtaking smile he wore just for me—nothing else mattered. This man was my everything.

He’d been there for me through thick and thin, through the good, the bad, and the ugly. Our vows on silly napkins were framed and mounted above our bed for us to always remember and never take for granted.

As soon as Ryan took my hands in his, all of my nervous worry drifted off into the breeze.

I woke with a smile to tiny kisses peppering my shoulder. I think I actually fell asleep with this same smile on my face. I rubbed my hand over his arm so he’d know I was awake.

“Good morning, Mrs. Christensen,” Ryan said while kissing my neck. It tickled.

“Good morning, husband.” I glanced at the clock. “More like, good afternoon, husband.” I rolled over and nuzzled into his chest. “Do you think they’ll miss us if we skip out on dinner, too?”

Ryan laughed softly. “I have no desire to get out of bed. That’s why they invented room service.”

I drifted my fingertip around his new platinum wedding band; my vow of “Yours Forever” engraved inside. I was hoping that this all wasn’t just a dream. “I never gave you your wedding present.”

Ryan smiled and kissed my forehead. “I think that thing you did last night when you were on top and riding me was a wonderful gift.”

I nudged him. “Smart-ass. Hang on.” I crawled out of bed.

“Gift number two—my wife completely naked.”

I wrinkled my nose at him, retrieving the thin box I had wrapped in gold foil.

He flipped the box over, inspecting both sides. “What’s this?”

I crawled back under the blankets. “A dream.”

His eyes narrowed. “A dream?”

“Yep. Dreams only come true if you point yourself in their direction.”

He fingers combed his hair back. God, that was so damn sexy. I hoped I’d never lose my appreciation for it.

He slid his leg over, tapping me in the foot. “Is that so?”

I fluffed the pillows under my head and nuzzled back into his side. “Yep.”

“Well then, I guess we’re tossing your birth control pills in the garbage.”

He caught me off guard. “You ready for all of that?”

He shrugged. “I’m ready for whatever life throws our way.”

“Good. Now open your gift already!”

Ryan slid his thumb under the edge of the paper, tearing it off. “Gold paper, eh?”

“Yep. That’s what it is. Inside is your golden ticket, too.”

He shook the box, separating the lid. A tinge of panic seeped through me when he frowned at my gift.

“A script? You bought this?”

“Yep. TLC Productions owns it.”

He examined it again. “This is that script you were so adamant about me pushing. Tar, no one wanted to back it.”

I shrugged. “That was then. We have a meeting with Jeff Westfield at Universal whenever you’re ready to put on pants again.”

Ryan was astonished. “You got producers on board?”

I grinned proudly. “Yep. Anna Garrett’s in on it, too. Word on the street is that several big-name directors are interested.”

He grinned at me. “You were a busy girl.”

“Yes, I was. Sneaky.”

He pursed his lips. “You really want me to act again? After all we’ve been through?”

I rubbed my hand over his heart, noting the subtle change of pitch in his voice. “Yes, I do. It’s who you are. It’s what feeds your soul. The rest . . . the rest is just details.”