Lovestruck Read online

  “So, how can I help?” He has a briefcase in his hand. I try to remember what he’s here for, other than my ogling pleasure.

  I motion for him to sit down and bite my lip as my gaze falls to his ass before he does. This is such a bad idea. Calm down, Eden. He doesn’t need to know you’re drooling over him. Keep it together.

  He sat and put the briefcase down. “If you need a check-up, it’s a good idea to set something up with my assistant. Most of my equipment is in the office.”

  “Good to know. She did say it was standard procedure to have one. I was getting around to it.” Liar, I think, as he leans forward. Ugh, those eyes. I could just about drown in the damn things.

  “If there’s an emergency I can drive you to the hospital in Summerton.” He seems to be going through a basic protocol speech, since I’m not giving him anything to work with. It makes me smile. He’s nervous, even if he is hiding it fairly well. He doesn’t shake or stutter, he just talks in a monotone voice, while his gaze drifts over me as if he’s giving me a mental undressing with those hypnotic eyes of his. I feel my hand going to the hem of my T-shirt, a nervous habit. My fingers fondle the fabric at the edge, feeling for loose threads. The movement catches his attention. I wonder how things would go if I started to undress. His slackening jaw as I pull the fabric up slightly is enough to snap me back to reality. I scratch my exposed stomach and let it fall back down.

  He clears his throat, gaze breaking from me, as he tries to go back to his monotonous speech. I’ve heard enough of it, so I decide I might as well cut straight to the real reason I needed to see him.

  “Okay,” I say. “What about prescription drugs?”

  He blinks. “Oh. What were you prescribed?”

  “I can’t remember the name, it’s long-winded. It’s not Prozac. I have an empty bottle in the bathroom.” I get up and rush to get it. I give myself a sharp talking to in the bathroom mirror before I move back into the living room. Doctors are not fair game. Get a hold of yourself, woman.

  Our fingers brush as I pass it over. I think about what he could be using those skilled fingers to do and realize my stern talking to hasn’t worked. I’m going to have to get laid. There’s nothing else for it. I can’t proposition my doctor. That has to be crossing some kind of line.

  “How long have you been taking these?” He gets a file out of his case, and a pen.

  “Um, I don’t know.” I don’t want to admit that. The break-up was a long time coming, but most of the world didn’t know we were anything other than happy.

  He checks something and nods, closing the file. I can see the indecision on his face before he opens his mouth. “I think it might be better if we tried something else.”

  “Like a different kind of pills?”

  “Like no pills.”

  I stare at him. “Are you serious?”

  “How long have you been off them?”

  “A month or so.” I’d stupidly left a bottle in Hunter’s apartment. The thought of getting more hadn’t occurred to me until they’d run out and I’d realized I didn’t have any spare lying around. I’d kept my last empty bottle so I’d know what they were when I actually got around to asking a doctor for more. Probably shouldn’t have let it get to this. No wonder I can’t write.

  He nods. “You’re already going through it then. You’re off them. Starting them again would be starting over. I think we should try something else.”

  “Like?”

  “I think we should schedule a weekly session. The drugs won’t get to the root of your problem. Talking about it might.”

  Shit. I realize he’s waiting for a response. “You mean talking, to you?”

  “Unless you’d feel more comfortable with someone else. I can get you a list of therapists in the surrounding area if you’d prefer?”

  “You’ll be fine.” I’m ready to kick myself the moment I say that. I should get the list and find a really old guy or even a woman for this. Probably an older woman, just to be on the safe side. I so don’t need to be attracted to my therapist. This is way too screwed up.

  “I’ll have Mary contact you to arrange the first appointment. If you’re happy to go from there I’ll make it a regular slot.” He gets up.

  “Thanks.”

  When he leaves, I blow out a breath and play with the hem of my shirt as I pace the living room. I so need to get laid. Coming onto a doctor while he’s trying to help me would be just awful.

  I wonder what my best friend Skyler is up to, realize she’s probably still on tour, and then I look at the stack of read books on my coffee table. I pick them up and put them back down. Tomorrow. I can cook tonight, sleep on it and head out tomorrow. Once I’ve thought about it enough to be sure. This time I won’t give a line. I’ll be more direct. Maybe Asher isn’t married. I can only hope.

  Chapter Five

  *

  ASHER

  The first thing my sister always does when she walks into my house is pick something to criticize. If it bothered me I might not let her in. I’m sure she’d only be convinced I was hiding something heinous from her if I actually slammed the door in her face.

  She glances around, adjusts her glasses and makes a ‘huh’ sound.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I attempt to ascertain her reason for coming around, though I’m already pretty sure I know what she’s here hoping to determine.

  “A girl can’t just visit her little brother?” She’s only nine months older than me, but she’s been lording the fact over me since we were kids.

  “I don’t know. I wouldn’t call you a girl.”

  She swats me in the arm with her purse as she closes the door behind her. The scowl she throws me only makes my patient smile brighten. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as pissing my bitchy sibling off.

  “Woman is the appropriate term for a female over the age of eighteen,” I remind her.

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re so nit-picky. No wonder you’re still single.”

  I feel her scrutiny as she narrows her gaze on the last word. She really doesn’t have a poker face in any shape or form. Subtlety has never been her forte.

  “You called it.” I shrug as I head towards the kitchen. “Would you like a coffee?”

  She nods slowly. “Yeah, sure. That’s the appropriate beverage for a family visit.”

  “Well, it’s a little early in the day for a long island iced-tea.”

  She follows me along the hall. “I suppose it’s not even noon yet.”

  “It’s not even ten.” I can sense her rolling her eyes.

  “Aren’t you working today?” She sounds suspicious.

  “Of course,” I say. Wondering why she’d think I’d dress for work if I wasn’t going in. “I start at midday. I’m working late tonight.”

  “So…” She trails off, probably expecting me to fill the silence.

  “So?” I turn the question on her. “Are you here to tell me I’m going to be an uncle yet?”

  She frowns at me as I put the coffee on. “Would I be thinking about drinking coffee, or whatever, if I was pregnant? Seriously, Asher. Get a clue.”

  I shrug, wondering if she’ll get to the point before I kick her out to leave for work. I decide to let her dig her own grave. Riling her up usually makes her snap a lot quicker, but I know why she’s here and I’m not interested in talking to my gossipy sister about Eden.

  “It’s been a week,” she says, as I pass her a mug.

  “A week? Since you last slept with Alan? Trouble in paradise already…”

  She smacks me hard enough to make the coffee in my mug slosh over the lip and make little splashes on the tiled floor.

  “Don’t be stupid. You know what I’m talking about.” She shakes her head and then takes a sip of her coffee before putting the mug down and grimacing. “That stuff is nasty. You drink that? Ugh.”

  My patience wears thin when I spend too much time in Sasha’s company. It’s holding for now, but I wish she’d spit it out a
lready. Just not enough to do the hard part for her. I know what she’s looking for and she’s not going to get it.

  “Marti said she saw Eden talking to you in the library. So?”

  “So, what?” I play dumb, and I know my blank look is infuriating her.

  She clutches her purse tighter before she wedges it under her arm and crosses them. “You were all sappy over that girl when you guys were in high school. Trailed after her like a lost dog. Don’t try to tell me you’re not falling over yourself to impress her now she’s back. She’s single now, but that’s not going to last.”

  The only part of what she says that bothers me in the slightest is the last sentence. She’s right, Eden won’t stay single for long. Chances are she’s already met someone else who actually had the balls to ask her out. She’s been in town for almost two weeks. That’s long enough for a woman as incredible as her to meet someone else. I’d messed up.

  I keep my expression blank. “Who says I’m interested in her now?”

  She laughs. “I’m not buying the act, little brother. That girl is your Achilles heel. She always has been.” Her superior expression remains as she promptly decides to leave. “If you’re smart, you’ll make sure you ask her out before she ends up on a better man’s arm.”

  There are no words to appropriately describe how much I hate it when she’s right.

  Chapter Six

  *

  EDEN

  I wear flats so I can walk. It’s not a decision I’m totally sure about, but I figure it’s a nice day. My mind is a little fogged. Sexy dreams about the hot doctor, mixed in with sexy dreams about the hot librarian. I woke up gasping for air. My body felt like it was on fire. A cold shower helped, even if I had screamed when the water first hit my skin. I shiver as I pick up the books and leave the house. I probably should have found a bag to put them in, but I hug them to my chest instead.

  The only one I haven’t read is the romance. I think about returning it anyway, but I want to have an excuse to come back to the library if I need to. If I mess this up.

  I’m still not sure what I’m going to say to Asher. The worry that he has a wife or a girlfriend is weighing on me. I feel like I need to know before I make anything that could be considered a move. I don’t want him to think I’m some kind of homewrecker.

  Taking long deep breaths every few steps, I make my way towards the library, hoping with each step that he’ll be there. He must have days off. Everyone does. I’ll leave that up to fate. He’ll either be there or he won’t. I have no control over that.

  I get there and stare up at the double doors. My hand shakes a little when I make the move up the steps and push the door open to go inside. There’s a pretty brunette girl, maybe nineteen years old, standing behind the front desk. She puts the book she’s reading to the side as I approach.

  Her bright blue eyes widen when I put the books down on the counter. “You’re Eden Masterson.”

  I smile. “Guilty as charged.”

  Her mouth opens and closes again before she pulls something out from under the counter. An autobiography my manager had someone ghost-write for me. I couldn’t bring myself to read it. I’m sure it’s full of gross exaggerations and sensationalist garbage. I raise an eyebrow as she opens it and puts a pen on the page, looking back up at me with a pleading expression in her gaze.

  “It would mean so, so much to me if you could sign it.”

  “This is your own copy?” It sure looked like a store copy rather than a library book.

  She nods. “Asher gave me it.”

  I pick up the pen and open on the page she has propped. My gaze is pulled instantly to Asher’s elegant signature. I’d recognize his writing anywhere, even if his name wasn’t legible. I get goose bumps as I consider what it means. I flip a few pages hoping to confirm it before I look up at her.

  “Did Asher write this?”

  She bites her lip, before she nods. “It’s really beautiful. You didn’t know?”

  I sign it and pass it back. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, but I make the decision to buy a copy and read it. I’ll figure out how I feel once that’s done. I gave the okay for the book to be written, based on facts about me that were already in the public eye. I hadn’t been sure about it, but my manager had insisted and I’d been too green to say no at the time.

  “Is Asher in today?” I still want to talk to him. If nothing else, having someone to talk to would make me feel less insanely lonely. All of my friends in the industry are busy making music and touring. The slow down might end up driving me crazy if I don’t find something to occupy my time while I wait for my muse to return.

  She nods as she takes the book and slides it under the desk. She motions behind me and I turn to see him coming through the door. My brain goes into meltdown on sight. He has a reserved demeanor with a hard edge to it, something that always makes my heart beat a little faster in his presence. His intense expression is sullen and pensive as he strides forward with purpose. He wears that fitted three-piece suit like he means business, and I can’t keep my gaze from drifting over the whole get-up on his tall frame. No man should look this dangerously attractive in a suit. I don’t know how he does it. I manage to pull on a smile as he stops in front of me, shock in his dark blue eyes.

  “I was just thinking about you.” He seems flustered, though I’m not sure what it is exactly that makes me think this. His tone is just the right amount of intense to let me know the context of his words. His gaze holds steady as his shock dissipates.

  “You were?” I could have said the same right back in a flirty tone, but I clamped down on my initial reaction. Mostly because I’m trying not to give him a line. I curse myself for not asking the girl on the desk if he’s single. It’s always less embarrassing to ask someone else those obvious questions.

  He flushes a little and pulls on a smile that’s too polished to be real. He has the slightly blank, unfocussed look in his eyes that I remember from every difficult encounter in high school. He never let anyone see they’d hurt him. I know this expression too well. He’s giving me his poker face.

  “We should find some time to catch up,” he tells me, before I can ask him what he’s about to lie to me about. “It’s been too long.”

  “It really has.” I wonder where I can get a copy of the book. There’s probably a store in town selling them, but I’d feel pretty weird about buying one. Having people around town think I’m some sort of self-obsessed narcissist really wouldn’t help the rumor mill. I’m sure they already think I’m bizarre for spending so much time in the mansion alone. I’m going to have to venture online. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

  “If I wasn’t already running late I’d take you for lunch. Will dinner do?” He’s moving behind the counter already, sounding a little harassed. He could just be in a flap because he’s late for work, I guess.

  “Dinner would be great. Where should I meet you?” I wonder about asking him to my place, but I know that’s the libido talking. It would be a seriously bad move. I’ve barely been back in town for five minutes. I can’t just go rushing into bed with the first man I re-connect with.

  “I can pick you up.” He smiles wryly. “It’s not as if I don’t know where you live, Eden.”

  “Okay then. What time?”

  “Is nine too late?” He doesn’t explain why it needs to be that time, but I’m guessing it has something to do with the time he gets off work.

  I shake my head. “Sounds fine. I’ll see you then.”

  I leave before anything Freudian can slip out, only realizing we made an actual date after I’m standing outside under the scorching sun. The thought makes me smile, but it’s a fleeting twitch when I spot the weird guy across the street again. He’s leaning against the wall, and waves when he sees me. Crap. I need to get the hell out of here. Where’s my car when I need it? I should have known walking into town was a mistake.

  Since I have no way of escaping, I stomp over to where he’s standing. />
  “Who the hell are you?”

  He smirks slowly as he straightens up. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  What kind of bullshit is that? I frown at him. “Try me.”

  He shrugs. “What the hell. I’ve got nothing to lose. My name is Cupid, and I’m at your service, Eden Rose Masterson.”

  I laugh. Apparently, my libido does have its limits after all. Weirdos referring to themselves as match-making Gods is where it draws the line. Though, he does seem unusually attractive, now that I think about it. Almost as perfectly sculpted as a statue, Godlike, I suppose.

  “You can laugh,” he says, smiling in good nature. “Get it out. You think I don’t get this reaction all the time? No one ever believes me.”

  “Where did you escape from, honestly?” I shake my head and begin to walk away.

  “Call on me when you’re ready,” he calls after me. “When it’s time. You’re going to need me.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.” I head home, checking behind me every so often.

  He doesn’t follow me, but I do realize I shouldn’t leave the house on foot again. Everyone in this damn town knows where I live. If some oddball decided to follow me home, it would be a heck of a lot easier for him to catch up to me if I was walking.

  Shuddering, I go inside and lock the door. Just as my shoulders relax, I hear a voice behind me and just about jump out of my skin.

  “You left your door unlocked, Eden.”

  I catch my breath when I see it’s Logan, my old bodyguard and one of the reasons I ran from L.A.

  “Scare a girl half to death, why don’t you?” I manage to calm down, though my heart is pounding hard in my chest. I can hear it when I look at him. He’s got such a wholesome boy-next-door look about him, with his charming if rarely used smile and those bright, honest eyes. Tanned skin, well-worked muscles and honey-blond hair make him slightly hotter than your average boy-next-door, but I’ve seen those blue eyes go dark. I know he’s got demons.

  “You haven’t been answering your phone. I had to come and check everything was okay.”