What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9) Read online

  John led them through the streets with ease, constantly placing his hand on the small of her back. He did this to his sisters as well, but as the afternoon wore on, his hand lingered longer and longer on Shayla’s back. She found herself comforted by his touch, almost leaning into him when they spoke. The rough calluses on his palms snagged at the material of her shirt. Shayla reached for his hand, rubbing her thumb over the scratchy surface of his palm. “Tommy mentioned you were in construction. What do you do?”

  “I’m part owner in my dad’s construction company.” He remained still, allowing her to hold his hand. The crescents of his lashes shadowed his cheeks. “These are from mountain biking.”

  Her thumbs continued to turn circles over the coarse skin. The setting sun deepened the fresh bronze coloring on his face, accentuating the vibrant green of his eyes. She found herself mesmerized by the color and texture of the skin on his neck. “You took over the company after your father died?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t quite that simple. I’ve worked for my dad as far back as I can remember.” He smiled with a sense of pride. “I had to earn my spot at the top. The other partners bought my mom out after he died, and I worked hard to prove myself. They made me a partner three months ago.”

  “Congratulations.” She raised her brows and smiled sweetly. “I’m sure your dad would be proud of you.”

  Tracy clasped her bother by the shoulder. “Yes, Dad would be very proud.”

  Tracy was the quietest of the three. She helped Shayla pick out the perfect wedding gift for Tom and Tess, while JC picked out all the hot-blooded Greeks in the near vicinity.

  Tommy and Tess met them for dinner at a café along the water’s edge. The owner greeted her uncle and his family with gracious, warm smiles, swiftly ushering them to a private table along the terrace. The stark white stucco ignited with colors of cobalt blue and magenta pink mixed with a splash of sunny yellow. A plush throw draped over each chair and gas heaters warmed the chill of the evening air.

  Greece reeked of love and desire, and the seduction of the atmosphere was arresting. Even the local dishes on the menu were crammed with adjectives like lust, kisses, breasts, smoldering and volcanic. Sitting across the table from John, Shayla threatened to erupt with fiery passion at any unsuspecting moment as conversation carried on around her. Each time he smiled through dinner, her spirits soared with shameless delight.

  Lights from catamarans and luxury yachts dotted the serene setting as the darkness overtook the sinking sun. Shayla closed her eyes, her head slant to the side, listening to the echoes of music and voices carrying over the cool moist evening air. She pulled in a deep breath of salty air. Every inch of her mind melted into the moment as it absorbed all that Greece had to offer.

  John rested his hand on her forearm. “Are you going to fall asleep again?”

  Her eyes remained shut, and she basked in the bliss of his hand sparking energy in her skin. “No. I’m not tired at all. I’m just so relaxed.”

  Searching her memory, she wondered if she’d ever felt this content. She opened her eyes, peering out at the horizonless expanse of water. “I don’t remember the last time I felt this calm.”

  “Me either.” Their gazes briefly fixed on each other. John’s hand drifted down her arm, jiggling her finger that adorned a diamond accessory before releasing her hand.

  “I suggest you enjoy it while you can, Shay.”

  She startled at the sound of her uncle’s voice.

  “You’ll be busy when you get home.”

  Sheer insanity. Placing her hands in her lap, Shayla grimaced at his firm warning of the hell coming over the next few months. The paparazzi would call an all out war on Tommy and Tess’s wedding. The Wild West antics would be frightening and precarious. On top of that, Mat would be waiting for her and an answer.

  Leaving the café, they strolled along the dimly lit cobbled streets. White buildings gave stark contrast to the volcanic cliffside. November brought the off-season, giving her uncle the ability to roam the streets freely without too much of a hassle. This would never happen state side and Shayla enjoyed being in public without fans or press breathing down their neck.

  Most of the merchants closed up shop early, leaving only a few shops and a coffee shop to peruse. Shayla veered off alone, finding her way to the end of a narrow corridor. Small balconies hovered above tables set for two. Potted plants and menus written in chalk showing off the day’s fresh catch and specials lined the sidewalks.

  Reaching the end of the passage, she leaned against the lava rock wall, gazing out at the moonbeam igniting the entire cove with its attendance. Caught in a trance, Shayla’s heart measured in painful beats. Mat represented everything she dreamed of as a little girl, but her list of requirements for prince charming had changed over the last few months. Even though Mat had all of the qualities to make a good man, that didn’t make him the right man.

  Tears pooled in her eyes. She buried her face in the palm of her hands, blotting the corner of her damp eyes. With each minute that ticked by, her reflection of their relationship became clearer. Dread of the next few weeks quickly crawled into her mind, wiping out the serene view in front of her.

  Quiet footsteps resonated through the corridor from behind. There was no need to turn, she knew it’d be John.

  “Wow,” he whispered.

  Resting his forearms on the black pumice stone, he stared in awe. Intense energy passed between them. His gaze turned to her ring, yet he remained wordless.

  The tiniest pebble of a stone adorning her finger suddenly became as big as moon hovering above the caldron in the distance.

  She felt the need to explain, but the details caught in her throat, leaving her unable to speak. She cleared her throat and turned to him. “I…I never thought I’d find this place so magical. You know what I mean? You see pictures, but they don’t do it justice.”

  “The view is…mysterious.” His keen stare bore into the depths of her soul. “Breathtaking.”

  A sexy smile threatened to expose itself at the corner of his mouth until her tongue slipped across her bottom lip, nervously tugging it between her teeth. His breath caught and his stare turned hungry. “Why, umm, has it taken you so long to visit Greece?” he stammered, breaking the hum of sensual energy between them.

  “I’ve always wanted to travel here. I just never made the time. Tommy’s only had this place a few years.” She didn’t want to admit or explain that Mat wouldn’t come with her. He was afraid he’d be bored.

  “How long have you worked for Tom?”

  “I started working for him right out of high school, part-time until I finished college.”

  “Did you grow up in California?” he asked, his tone permeated with intrigue as if it would be the first of dozens of questions he needed to ask.

  “No, I grew up in Kentucky.” She smiled, but a bit of sadness forged its way into her voice. “Tommy took me in when I showed up on his doorstep.”

  “You just showed up?” John’s eyes flickered warily. “His brother is your father, right?”

  A chill skittered up her spine from the tenderness in his tone, tugging at her insides. She never spoke of her father. Emotions she put to rest years ago flooded over her unexpectedly. She sniffed back the burning sting pricking her nose, threatening to turn to tears. Shayla bowed her head with a slight nod. “My father isn’t anything like Tommy. The two of them haven’t gotten along in years. He’s not a nice man.”

  She sensed concern rising in his silence.

  “Define not nice.” The uneasiness collecting in the vibrations of his voice closed like a fist around her heart, pulling her to him.

  “He’s an alcoholic,” she admitted, raising her gaze to meet his. She couldn’t explain the comfort and security she felt merely standing next to him. There was just something about John that made her trust him. She continued without a second thought. “And abusive.”

  His face stiffened. A sea of anger brewed in his eyes. They held a
thousand questions in just one look. “Was he abusive to you?”

  “My mother took the brunt of it.” Shayla found herself unable to stop the train wreck of a story spilling from her lips. “I guess I’ve never really forgiven her for staying with him. Or for not sticking up for me.”

  “Parents are supposed to protect their children.” The muscles in his neck tensed. A murderous grumble resonated deep in his chest, rising above the crashing surf in the dark distance. “Your family should be the people you can trust the most. Not the ones who give you nightmares.”

  John protected his family. He defended his mother against one of the most famous men in the world without giving her uncle’s notoriety a second thought.

  “Not everyone is as protective as you.” She managed a smile while brushing the dampness from her face.

  “Your uncle is. He talks about you like you’re his own daughter.” A curious frown puckered between his brows. “Did you run away?”

  Shayla shook her head. “When I was sixteen, Tommy came back to Kentucky for my grandma’s funeral. We talked a lot and I confided in him. I remember thinking, how can he be so nice and my father be so awful? He told me if I ever needed anything I could come to him. I don’t know what went down between them the day of my grandma’s funeral. Tommy would never say, but I suspect he threatened my father.” She added quietly, “I think it almost killed him to leave me there.”

  Hostility hung on him, as he tenderly brushed the slick of wetness from her jaw with the back of his finger. “What happened?”

  “After I graduated, things had gotten really bad one night. He started drinking early in the morning, and by late afternoon, the screaming and yelling had hit full tilt. I locked myself in my room when he started waving a gun around.” Her mind sifted through the ugly memory. “I could hear him beating up my mom, and before I realized what I was doing, I cracked him over the head with a frying pan.”

  “You hit him with a frying pan?” he asked with wide eyes.

  “It kind of plays through my memory like a cartoon.” She cringed, turning her finger in a circle near her temple. “I shoved all I could fit into a backpack, taped a goodbye note to his bottle of vodka, and stepped right over the top of him as I was leaving. I would have asked my mother to come with me, but I knew she would never leave him.”

  “You walked out the door and never went back?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if Tommy has been paying my father off to stay away from me. I’m thankful if he does.” Shayla released a shaky sigh of relief. She’d never confided in Mat this way. She found it too shameful to share her story with him, and he never bothered to dig deeper into her life. She almost got the feeling Mat knew exactly how she had been raised, but never wanted to pry or expose the sad truth of it. Or maybe he knew it would hurt his mother’s campaign.

  “That takes a lot of courage.” John stared at her with a prideful glow.

  A rewarding smile replaced her tears. “I caught a train and showed up at the gate outside my uncle’s house, but he wasn’t home. I waited for hours in the pouring rain. I was soaked to the bone and freezing cold. I finally decided to climb the gate.” She spread her arms high and wide. “Have you seen his place in Malibu? It’s like Fort Knox.”

  His mood lightened when she smiled. John shook his head, enthralled in her story. “No, not yet. What happened? Did security show up? Throw you in jail?”

  “Worse! I was half way over the wall and the old lady next door pointed a shotgun at my butt!”

  They both laughed. Her stiff shoulders loosened as she calmed down.

  He cocked his pretend shotgun, taking aim at her ass. “Nice neighbor.”

  “Oh, my God, wait till you see her! She’s about five feet tall with white hair pulled back in a bun and ornery as the day is long.”

  “Note to self: never jump Tom’s wall.” John pointed his finger, mocking her accent. “I think I just heard a bit of Kentucky in there somewhere.”

  “There you two are!” JC waved frantically from half way down the corridor. “Come on, it’s time to go! The Jacuzzi is calling!”

  John waved from the shadows. “We’re coming!” Glancing down at Shayla with a hopeful grin, he asked, “Jacuzzi?”

  “I’m in.” They passed by the tables and she stopped, giving the seam of his shirt a quick yank. “Thanks for listening. I never talk about my father. Most people don’t know anything about my past.”

  “Oh, we’re just getting started.” Sexual tension streamed along in a constant undercurrent.

  Perspiration gathered at her nape as her gaze locked on the pulse throbbing at the base of his neck, slamming her with a brand of desire she’d never encountered. “We are?”

  “Oh yeah. I want to hear the end of the story. Obviously your ass is still fully intact.” He leaned back taking in the view of her derriere. “I want to hear more about the gun-toting granny who lives next door.”

  “Okay.” Shayla didn’t understand why this man put such a spell on her, but she was certain she’d tell him anything.

  Chapter Six

  “The thermometer reads one hundred and two degrees,” Tracy affirmed as Shayla poked her toe into the hot water.

  Shayla sighed, easing the rest of her body into the rolling bubbles. “This feels incredible.”

  “It’s heavenly.” Tracy’s head tilted back over the edge of the Jacuzzi. “Do you think Tom would let us stay here for vacation?”

  “I’m sure he would.”

  She opened one eye. “As long as you don’t bring friends over. Tommy’s very protective of his privacy. We’ll have to go over a few things, a lot of things, before you get back home. We should all enjoy the moment, because it’s gonna be insane when this hits the media.”

  Tracy sat tall, concern etched across her face. “How insane?”

  “Envision a pack of wolves hunting a very cleaver rabbit.” She warned. “Full on crazy!”

  “I’m up for crazy!” JC interjected, sashaying toward the Jacuzzi with a bottle of wine and four clear plastic cups.

  “Does Mom know you’re drinking wine?” Tracy’s question rang with authority.

  “I’m of age in Europe,” JC snickered. She passed a glass of wine to each of them, descending into the steam next to her sister. “Besides, Mom and Tom already went to bed.”

  Shayla scooted lower in her seat, allowing the jets to work magic on her sore neck.

  “So!” JC wiggled her brows, lifting her cup to cheers them. “How crazy is crazy? Are they going to be on the cover of every magazine? Entertainment TV? Our local news?”

  “Yes.” The pounding jet hit a tight muscle, causing Shayla to wince. “Not to mention complaints made by the millions of women who will be crying into their morning cup of coffee.”

  Tracy’s expression bounced between uneasy worry and sheer panic.

  “It’s okay, the other millions will be saying, Finally! It’s about time!”

  JC giggled dismissively.

  “Life will be completely different from now on, absolutely wonderful in some ways and a complete pain in the ass in others. The paparazzi are like predators. It’s easy to get caught up in the bright shiny lights and friendly faces, but make no mistake”—Shayla looked her in the eye, needing her to understand the gravity of the situation—“these people are not nice. Every single eye roll and swear word is bound to get caught on tape and God forbid you give the finger to the paparazzi.”

  “I don’t know if my mom is ready for this.” Concern deepened in Tracy’s blue eyes.

  “I’m not trying to scare you. Tommy will keep her safe,” Shayla assured. “I just want you to understand the magnitude of the situation. He has a lot of pull and everyone owes him favors, including the paparazzi. I’m sure he’ll call in every one of them owed to him. Plus he has bodyguards most of the time.”

  Both the girls’ eyes widened.

  “We might need a bodyguard?” Tracy’s finger wafted between her and her sister.

  �
�You won’t even know they are there. He wants to keep this as painless as possible, but safety will be his number one concern. In this business you have to take what’s thrown at you, deal with it as it comes and keep your wits about you.”

  Tracy clutched to her cup. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “That means we won’t know the extent of the storm until we’re in the middle of the hurricane.” Shayla crossed her arms over her chest, allowing the pulsing hot water to beat against the knot hidden behind her blade. “You didn’t like my uncle dating your mom at first. Why?”

  Stunned by Shayla’s candor, the girls faced one another.

  JC shrugged, pointing at her sister. “Hey, I had no problem with him. Tracy and John are the ones who didn’t like him.”

  “Are you talking about me?” John’s rich voice sent jitters down her back. His rugged frame silhouetted by the moon hanging in the dark sky, he poured a glass of wine for himself offering to top off the girls.

  “Yeah.” Without hesitation, JC chimed in, “Explain why didn’t you like Tom when you first met him?”

  His face sobered in the shadows, tilting his head from side to side. John stepped into the Jacuzzi slowly sinking down beside Shayla, one row of rippled muscle at a time. “Let’s just say his reputation precedes him.”

  “Your perception of Tommy came from the media. Most of what you read isn’t true or is at least highly embellished,” Shayla clarified. “The paparazzi are toxic and they’re not concerned about how much truth there is to a story, as long as it sells. Unfortunately, you’re not going to like everything you read or hear, but you have to learn to ignore it instead of reacting to the lies.”

  She heeded the direct warning to John and JC.

  John and Tracy glanced at each other, worry gathering on their faces.

  “He wants to keep everything wrapped up in a perfect package with nice tight bow, but in reality, their wedding will be one of the biggest stories of the year. But…he is very good at damage control. Genius by Hollywood’s standards.”