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

  John tore his gaze from Shayla, fighting to keep his expression neutral. He rolled his eyes. He dried his hand on a dishtowel, gripping Benny’s hand in a vise hold. “Great. Here we go. I’m never gonna hear the end of this shit, am I?”

  “Nope!” Lisa Levi declared, throwing her clenched fists in the air with a one two punch. She jabbed John in the arm with a wink, sauntering toward Shayla. She kissed Shayla on one cheek then the other. “Hello, sweetheart. Be careful hanging around this guy. He’s bound to get you in trouble.”

  Shayla embraced Lisa, surveying John’s bright red face from over Lisa’s shoulder. She managed to choke feebly, shooting him a timorous grin. “Nah, he’s not that bad. I can handle him.”

  Benny and Lisa Levi were Tommy’s closest friends for more than twenty years. Having been happily married for over fifteen years, the Levi’s led the pack when it came to the Hollywood “It” couples. Each Levi was famous in the film industry, but together they became legendary. They survived years of harassment in the media and paparazzi, focusing their attention on their family. Benny and Lisa went to great lengths to keep their two children Tommy, age twelve, and Kim, age six, out of the tabloids.

  “John, it’s so nice to see you again. And it couldn’t be under any better circumstances.” Lisa turned her attention and innate charm to John. In true Italian tradition, she clutched his jaw in her hands while pressing kisses to each cheek. Her hands fell to rest on his shoulders. “Beats the hell out the last time we met. Oh wait a minute…did I just say that?” Lisa covered her mouth with one hand, ribbing on the jeering even further. “Oh! That’s right you were beating the hell out of Tommy the last time we met.”

  Shayla burst out laughing, hugging Benny and exchanging hellos. She wasn’t sure which she found more amusing, Lisa’s teasing John or the fact his face verged on a near shade of purple having Lisa Levi just kiss his cheeks. Lisa was one of the most beautiful women Shayla knew and most men she knew grew up with posters of Lisa on their walls when they were in high school. Lisa started her career with a bad-girl persona that softened over time, turning into a well-respected artist and humanitarian.

  “Ha ha ha! Very funny. It is a wonderful day,” he smirked. John’s attention turned to Benny, who wandered toward the backyard searching for Tom. Seeing an opportunity for escape, John quickly followed.

  “I thought I heard your voice!” Tess beamed. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  Lisa held her arms wide. “Are you kidding me? Get over here! I’m so excited for the two of you!”

  Emotions of joy trapped in her chest and tears pooled in her eyes watching Tess and Lisa embrace. They had become instant best friends from the moment they met and acted as if they’d known each other a lifetime instead of a few short months.

  “I knew you were the one.” Lisa reached for a paper towel, dabbing the corner of her eyes. “Now don’t make me ruin my make-up. Get your ass in there and go get ready to marry Tommy. Today, you’re going to be a twelve.”

  Tess stood tall, wiping the tears from her face and nodding with a warm subtle laugh at what seemed to be a private joke. “Today, I am a twelve.”

  She gave Lisa another squeeze, going over the schedule for what she hoped to be the perfect day. Tess insisted on a small intimate wedding, only needing their most cherished of friends and family by their sides as they exchanged I do’s. Tom could’ve and would’ve given Tess the wedding of the decade, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t need an extravagant formal ceremony to announce their love. “I just want him. Only him. I don’t care about a fancy ceremony or what the rest of the world thinks. This is our day. I have all that’s important to me here, right now.”

  “Screw everyone else.” Lisa nodded with a quick jerk of her head. “Do you need any help?”

  “No. Marco is helping me.”

  Tess retreated to her room.

  Shayla and Lisa smiled at each other. “Have you ever seen your uncle so damn happy?”

  “No. It’s nice to see him part of a family. They all seem easy going and…wonderful.” She plucked a grape off the vine from the yellow bowl on the counter and tossed it into her mouth.

  “I haven’t really gotten a chance to chat with her girls yet, but I met John when he was punching Tommy’s lights out.” Lisa smiles. “He’s a great kid.”

  “I wouldn’t…I’m not sure kid is the right definition.” Shayla stammered, a bit of defensiveness in her tone. Heat from her chest climbed up her throat. The ghost of John’s masculine touch traveled up her torso.

  “Twenty-four may not be a kid to you, but it is to me.”

  “Twenty-four?” Shayla balked, choking on a grape. She coughed and sputtered. “There is no way he’s only twenty-four!”

  “Well, he was twenty-four. Maybe he’s twenty-five now.” Lisa scoffed, lifting her shoulders with an indecisive shrug.

  A visual memory of provocative moments from the night before hit Shayla like a tidal wave. Her head jerked back and her lip twitched in contrition. Shayla stood tall, straightening her spine. Her mouth opened then snapped shut. Shame washed over her as a few unpleasant slang terms popped into her head. She faltered and folded her arms across her chest, dropping her gape to the floor. “There’s no way he’s that young.”

  Lisa’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, followed by a very long observant gape, absorbing every ounce of Shayla’s demeanor. She watched in silence, analyzing every detail of her reaction.

  Shayla felt like she was standing naked, fully exposed, in the middle of the red carpet.

  Tommy entered the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water.

  Shayla’s gape met Lisa’s.

  “Tommy?” Lisa questioned, drawing her words out ever so slowly keeping an intense fixed stare on Shayla. “How old is John?”

  Shayla turned away, yanking the refrigerator door open. Standing at the open door trapped in her own ignominy, she pretended to rummage for anything within the reach of her trembling fingers while trying to get a grip on the panic running wild in her head.

  “He’s twenty-four.” Tommy leaned against the counter, joining in the conversation.

  “Are you talking about me?” John’s rich voice filled with mischievousness, but there was an added hopefulness floating in his tone.

  Shayla didn’t dare turn around. The scorch of heat coloring her face burned so hot, not even the cool air from the fridge helped.

  “Shayla and I were trying to figure out how old you are,” Lisa chimed in so sweetly and endearing that no man would know she was fishing for answers.

  “I wasn’t…we were just talking…Lisa said—” Shayla pulled open a cooler drawer, unconsciously examining the freshness of an apple with a flick of her finger. She felt his presence by her side, stealing the words right out of her mouth. Her skin turned damp at her nape and chest. Having nowhere else to hide, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I just thought you were…you seem older than twenty-four.”

  “Nope, twenty-four.” A haughty grin the size of the Grand Canyon covered his gorgeous face. John reached across the front of her to grab a bottle of water, slyly grazing the delicate peak of her nipple. “How old are you, Shay?”

  The sweetness in his voice sent spasms rippling through her muscles still tender from the night before. Part of her was completely mortified over their age difference, and the other part wanted to tackle him to the floor. “Thirty.”

  “Really?” He played it off casually, stretching in front of her again, offering waters to Tom and Lisa. He smelled so damn delicious her thoughts fractured, leaving her unable to utter one syllable.

  “Are you still hungry?” he added, saving her from a loss of words. His voice remained casual and sedated, but the lust in his eyes gave another meaning. John took a long guzzle of water and set it on the counter. Propping his hip against the granite, he scrubbed his fingers through his rumpled morning hair. His flexing bicep stretched the fabric of his white tee, capturing her undivided attention.
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  Shayla’s gaze wandered over each contracting muscle, craving connection. She scowled in disgust, mortified by her own lust. Closing the refrigerator door, she found Lisa and Tommy glaring straight at her, both wearing confused expressions. Shit!

  Tommy and Lisa faced each other with curious insight, and then stared straight back at her with arrogant smirks.

  “I gotta get ready,” she grumbled, leaving the kitchen and their bright stares of speculation. Walking briskly down the hall, she ignored the echo of footsteps coming from behind, willing them away.

  “Hey. Wait up,” Lisa called in quiet manner.

  Shayla refused to turn.

  “Shayla Maria Clemmins!”

  Shayla glanced over her shoulder, but continued to her room. “What’s up?”

  Lisa caught up by the time she stepped inside. She waved her finger in front of Shayla in the design of an S. “You tell me! What the hell is going on?”

  “Nothing.” She withdrew to the closet, mindlessly straightening of her wardrobe, which merely consisted of two dresses.

  “Bullshit!” Lisa threw her hands to her hips, draping her eyes up and down Shayla, throttling her in women’s intuition. “You like him.”

  Shayla’s heart thundered. “I didn’t know he was twenty-four,” she said in an ache of a murmur, burying her face in her palms. “Honestly—”

  “Did I miss something?”

  She dropped her hands, hesitantly nodding. Her head fell back as she searched the ceiling for answers. “Kinda.”

  “Oh fuck.” Lisa paused. “I was just messing with you. Did you sleep with him?”

  The ceiling wasn’t providing any answers so she tried the floor, shaking her head numbly, mortified she hadn’t even asked how old John was prior to making love.

  “You did? Oh shit.” Lisa gripped her thin shoulders. Her perfectly penciled eyebrows rose to a point, astounded by the break in Shayla’s squeaky-clean image. “Last night?”

  “He looks thirty! Thirty-five!”

  “This has nothing to do with his age, honey.” Lisa grabbed her shoulders, guiding her in a motherly fashion out of the closet to the upholstered chair beside the bed. “Sit down.”

  She plopped back into the blue chair, folding her sweaty palms in her lap.

  “Last I heard, Mat asked you to marry him in front of his whole family. By the way, I personally think that was a little messed up. It’s like political peer pressure. Did you turn him down? Tom said you hadn’t given him an answer.”

  Shayla opened her mouth and the entire story gushed out. The proposal, his family, her mixed feelings. “When Mat and I first started dating I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world. How could a man like him even be interested in me? I mean, for a man like him, who comes from such a predominate family, and my family, I just—”

  “Stop right there! Don’t say another damn word! It doesn’t matter where you come from, Shayla Marie Clemmins. You are an amazing woman. Just because you weren’t given everything on a silver spoon—”

  “Could you please stop calling me by my full name? It makes me feel even more guilty.”

  A quiet wrapping on the door captured both their attentions.

  Lisa grinned so full it bordered on obnoxious. “I wonder who that is?”

  “Shut up.” Shayla held her finger to her lip, rising out of her chair. She stared at the door. “Shit. I had no idea he was that young. Now what am I gonna do?”

  Lisa raked another full examination over Shayla. “Judging by the shade of purple you are turning, I’m guessing he’ll do just fine!”

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Shhh.” Shayla ushered Lisa toward the door.

  Lisa kissed her on the cheek. “The good news is, Shayla honey, I adore him and he is quite a man no matter what his age.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “I’m just going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing you also don’t know he still lives at home.”

  “No fucking way?”

  “Way.” She reached for the handle. “Good luck. Oh, and I won’t say anything.” She opened the door, taking one look at John’s patiently waiting form. She held up her finger, informing him to wait a minute and shut the door right in his face. “Honey, for what it’s worth, I’m a few years older than Benny. And that John is one hell of a man. I like him.”

  “Thanks,” Shayla grumbled, pulling on the handle.

  Lisa clapped her hands together quickly and folded her fingers around each other. “Good luck,” she wished John with encouragement.

  John ventured into her bedroom without hesitation, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Shayla turned toward the bathroom, but he snatched her by the wrist so she should look at him.

  “I need to get ready for the wedding,” she sputtered smugly. Pulled by a multitude of emotions, she wiggled out of his grip and folded her arms over her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re twenty-four? And don’t pretend you don’t know I’m thirty.”

  “What did you want me to say? Hi. I’m John Mathews. I’m twenty-four. It’s not an AA meeting. And I assumed you were a little older than me. So what?”

  She turned and glared at him. “So what?”

  “Yeah, so what?” A smile threatened to curl on the corner of his mouth. “You don’t hear me complaining that you’re six years older than me.”

  She stopped, gasping as she spun to glare at him.

  A full blown teasing smile covered his gorgeous face as he raised his hands in a surrendering fashion. “Kidding. I’m only kidding, Shay.”

  He reached for her, but she swatted at his hand. “You just seem so much older. You, you even have grey hair.” She ran her fingers through the few silver hairs near his temple.

  “Premature. Runs in my family.” She held still, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. “See what you have to look forward to in ten more years?”

  Shayla pulled back, searching his face. He wore the unblinking gaze of a hawk ready to swoop in on its prey. She swallowed hard, trying to disregard the charm and certainty in his voice. “John, I can’t—”

  He pressed his lips, soft and warm, to hers, quieting her caution. “You said the weekend. I don’t need to convince you.”

  His mouth skimmed over her jaw to her ear. John dropped his chin to the top of her head, covering her heart with the palm of his hand. “Does he make you feel like this?”

  She stiffened and pushed at him, but he grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. The hammering of his heart pounded beneath her trembling hand.

  “Mat Huntston is not the right guy for you and you know it. When’s the last time you had fun, Shayla? Hmm? Hell, when’s the last time you even had sex with him?”

  “That is none of your business,” she grumbled pushing hard at his chest. “Mat’s not a bad man. You don’t know him.”

  “He’s fueled by the political ambition of his family.”

  “You’re a fine one to talk.” She marched into the bathroom. Trying to get away from him, she turned on the shower, thinking he’d leave.

  John sighed heavily, reigning in his anger and criticism. He cinched the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head.

  Shayla folded her arms, covering her bare breasts.

  “I’ve already seen them,” he snickered in a hushed voice, unfolding her arms and stripping her of her yoga pants. He sat on a stool, tugging her in between his thighs, sending her pulse into double time. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Please don’t cover up.”

  “Do you really…” Her voice broke as he laid a trail of kisses down her stomach. She clasped his skull, running her fingers through his rich dark hair. “Do you really still live at home?”

  He looked up at her with a narrow stare. “Yes. I live at home.”

  She began to pull away, but he gripped her wrists, securing them beside her bare hips. A deep, painful frown wedged between his brows.

  “It’s not what you think, Shayla
. I was in the process of buying a house when my dad died.”

  The steamy air turned thick with sentiments of loss and sorrow. “Oh. I didn’t mean to misjudge—” she said in the ache of a sympathetic whisper.

  “I had on offer in on a house and had to back out of the deal. Tracy was going to college in Colorado, she moved back home and enrolled in UNLV so she could help JC and I take care of my mom.”

  His voice was low and raspy, holding back raw wounds from the death of his father. Shayla got the impression John was letting her inside a small vacant corner of his heart, rarely exposed to anyone if even himself. Embarrassment crawled across her naked shoulders and skittered up her neck.

  “I’m not sure if you know this, but my mom was a complete mess after my dad died. She barely got out of bed for eight months. My parents were married for twenty-five years and they had a deep passionate love that…that was unlike anything I’ve seen. She was absolutely lost when he died. We were all grieving, but damn, she took it so hard. For a while we thought she wasn’t gonna make it.”

  Shayla shook her head, sniffing back tears. She unbound her wrists from his tense fingers and sat on his thigh. Drawing her arm behind his shoulders, she caressed the tension in his neck. “I knew your father died of a heart attack and Tom mentioned they had a great love. Whenever Tommy talks about it, I can tell he has a certain…admiration for your mom and dad’s marriage. I know that sounds strange considering he loves her so much, but I think he truly respects the love your parents shared.”

  “Tom and I talked about it over Thanksgiving.” John nodded. A small chuckle rumbled through the humid air. “Did you know he asked me for her hand in marriage?”

  She shook her head, pressing a kiss near the corner of his eye, catching the salty wetness streaming down with her lips. “I’m sorry. It’s just the whole age thing—”