Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel)

chapter Twenty



As she walked up onto Grounds for Thought, Nicole found Marley and Valentine already sitting at their usual table. She waved at them through the window and went in to join them. She was really late.

Grif's fault. He'd told her he wanted to make sure he hadn't neglected any part of her, and he'd been very diligent about keeping his word. She'd replied that maybe he needed to double-check a couple areas. He'd risen to the challenge.

The passion was only minorly dimmed by the argument they'd had about her career. They had an unspoken truce, but everything hung heavy between them—especially the fact that Grif would be leaving soon.

But she wasn't going to think about that. She was going to enjoy Marley and Valentine, who stood as Nicole approached.

"You're back," Nicole exclaimed, catching her up in a big hug.

"Yesterday." Her friend smiled wide. She had a glow from sun and love that lit her skin. "Ethan says hi."

Marley shook her head. "You know I can't call him that, right? And I'm also not sure I can stand to hear sex stories about him."

Nicole took off her jacket and hung it on the back of her seat. "I want to hear sex stories. After I get a mocha."

"A mocha." Marley raised her brow. "Feeling decadent?"

More like she needed a pick-me-up. She was a happy person, but the past few days she'd been up and down. Mostly because of Grif harping on her designs, but also because he was going to leave.

She didn't want him to.

But she flashed a Cheshire smile to put up a brave front and went to order her drink. When she came back, she took a seat and waved her hand. "I'm ready for sex."

"You're not my type." Valentine grinned. "I missed you guys. What have you been up to?"

Nicole swiped whipped cream with her finger and licked it. "First we need to hear about the honeymoon."

"But the PG version," Marley said.

"Then it'll be a short discussion." Valentine smiled, her cute dimples flashing. "I thought we were just going to drive down the coast, but he surprised me by taking me to Tahiti."

"Tahiti." Nicole sighed. "That's so romantic."

"We stayed at this resort that was beautiful, in a private villa with our own swimming pool, and it was warm, and we didn't need swimsuits."

Marley stuck her fingers in her ears. "La la la la la..."

Laughing, Nicole pushed her friend's hands back down. "As if you and Brian live chastely."

"Not at all. Brian's a sex machine," she said proudly. "But Valentine is like Pollyanna, and who wants to hear about Pollyanna having sex?"

"Are you saying I'm not sexy?" Valentine frowned, clearly affronted. "Ethan thinks I am."

"He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, too. But you know who I do want to hear about?" Marley faced Nicole. "Griffin Chase."

"The rock star?" Valentine's little nose wrinkled. "Why would you care? You never even read the tabloids."

"I care because Nicole cares." Marley watched her, waiting expectantly.

Nicole lifted her cup, trying to act nonchalant.

Valentine shook her head. "Why would Nicole care? Does this have to do with his engagement?"

"Engagement?" Marley lurched forward, mouth gaping. Then she pointed at Nicole. "You've been holding out."

"No." She shook her head. "There's no engagement."

"Yes, there is. I read it in a celebrity magazine on the plane ride back yesterday." Valentine pursed her lips. "People, I think. Griffin Chase is marrying Inga."

"The Swedish supermodel?" Marley frowned.

Nicole shook her head again. "No, he's not."

"Did he tell you he wasn't?" Marley asked.

"No. But he also didn't tell me he was." He'd have told her, right? Because she was his best friend. Because they were having sex. He wouldn't have sex with her if he were engaged to someone else, even if he was leaving.

Valentine looked back and forth between them. "I don't understand what's going on here."

"Did you seriously not notice at your wedding reception?" Marley gaped incredulously. "I thought everyone noticed when Griffin Chase walked in."

"I was a little busy that night." Valentine frowned. "It doesn't make sense. Why would Griffin Chase be at my wedding?"

"Because Nicole is getting it on with him," Marley said tactfully.

"What?" Valentine whirled to face her.

Nicole shrugged. "That's technically not true. I started getting it on with him way after your wedding."

"When did this happen? How did this happen? And why does it always happen when I'm out of town?"

"This is the first time you've been out of town," Marley pointed out.

"Whatever." Valentine waved her hand. Then she faced Nicole. "I don't understand why the news is all over his engagement to Inga if you're dating him."

Dating seemed like overstating things. Except that they had been spending every minute she wasn't at work together. "It's just a mistake."

Valentine shook her head, leaning over and pulling out her phone from her purse. Thumbs flying, she held out the screen. "See?"

The headline on the web page read Chase Catches Supermodel.

"It's just one sensational article," Nicole said calmly.

Valentine shook her head, punched a couple more things on her phone, and then held it out again. The screen had a list of article headlines:

Chase and Inga Engaged!

Rock star and Supermodel to Tie the Knot

Inga and Griffin to Enter the Lexicon of Rocker/Model Unions

Inga Says It's a Summer Wedding

Nicole read them all carefully—twice—and shook her head. "It's not true."

"Uh-oh," Marley said.

"What?"

She exchanged a look with Valentine, who said, "You've passed the point of no return."

"You're delusional," Marley added.

"I am?" Nicole looked down at herself. "I don't feel delusional."

Marley looked at her over the rim of her mug. "Trust us. In the dictionary, next to delusional, there's a picture of you."

"All these sources wouldn't report something that wasn't true," Valentine added gently.

Nicole shook her head. "I appreciate your concern. I really do. But there are always false reports about celebrities. Do you really think Kim Kardashian was impregnated by aliens?"

"This article wasn't in The Enquirer," Valentine said. "It's in People."

Nicole shrugged. "To-may-toes, to-mah-toes. And haven't you seen how this happens in the movies all the time? The heroine always believes the false report, and it breaks them up, but in the end the hero was innocent."

"So you believe Griffin Chase is innocent?" Marley asked, her brow raised skeptically.

"Grif wouldn't be with me if he were engaged to someone else."

"Hmm," Marley hummed noncommittally.

Nicole patted her friend's hand. "I sound like a smitten woman, I know, but it's not like that."

Marley and Valentine exchanged another look.

Nicole grinned. "It really isn't. He's not a douchebag."

"He's a musician," Marley pointed out. "Douchebag is practically synonymous."

"I don't believe it. He's always been solid. He'd have told me if he were engaged."

"Fine." Marley rolled her eyes. "When you're devastated because he's marrying a supermodel, just remember that I suck at the touchy-feely stuff. But because you're my friend, if you need to—I don't know—cry or something, I'll try not to panic."

Nicole laughed. "You're a pal."

Marley nodded. "I really do try."





They lay in her bed together. He sprawled out length-wise, and her head dangled off the side. Their clothes were strewn all over the floor, including the new purple Mimi Holliday set she'd wanted to show off to Grif. In his defense, he had admired it for a few seconds before stripping it off her.

She almost hadn't worn the new lingerie. She'd had a niggle of unease since the conversation with Marley and Valentine, and she didn't want to distract from it. But in the end, she knew she was just being paranoid. In fact...

She turned and slid up against his body, nestling her head on his shoulder. "I saw a funny story today."

He played with a strand of her hair. "What sort of funny story?"

"About you, being engaged to that supermodel Inga."

His body stiffened, not very much but enough that she noticed. "Where did you see the news?"

"All over." She chuckled. "It was detailed, with statements from your manager as well as Inga."

"It's not true."

She hadn't realized she'd been holding tension in her shoulders all day until right then. She rubbed his chest, feeling a surge of possessiveness that went hand-in-hand with joy. "I know. I didn't believe it."

"But we were engaged."

"What?" She sat up, frowning.

He propped himself on his elbow. "I broke it off before coming here. It was momentary insanity. It was never going to work with Inga, with the way we were both constantly jetting off in opposite directions."

"You were engaged?" she repeated, sounding shrill to her own ears. "For how long?"

"It doesn't matter—"

"Of course it matters." Pulling away, she sat up on her knees. "You loved her enough to propose to her. How does that not matter? That's huge. You don't just propose to someone. You obviously thought you could spend the rest of your life with her."

"I broke up with her, Nicole," he said, sitting up. "I obviously didn't believe it'd work."

"You broke up with her and then came here to see me." She crossed her arms, glaring. "So what does that make me? The other woman? The rebound? None of these answers are good."

He reached for her. "Nic—"

"No." She scrambled away from him. "Marriage is forever. You yourself said you wanted what your parents have. You must have thought you'd get it with Inga."

"I was wrong." He held his hand out, his gaze steady on her. "Just hear me out, okay?"

She glared at him, waiting.

Exhaling, he brushed his hair back. "I thought Inga was everything I could want, but there were things that were seriously missing. Intimacy, for one. And she didn't understand why I'd want to tour instead of follow her around and serenade her. In the end, she was a blip on the radar. This is just a publicity ploy by my manager and Inga."

She nodded stiffly. "Is my name going to end up in the magazines, too?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Does that make what happened between us more real, or less true? Because it seems like maybe this is a blip on the radar."

"No." He stood up. "You're not like that, Nic."

"What am I then? You said you were going to leave, so how am I any different?" Except that she didn't rate a proposal.

That hurt—way more than she'd thought it would.

Grif stepped toward her. "I want you to come with me."

"You didn't want to tag along and follow Inga all over the world, but you're asking me to do the same thing? How does that make sense? And what would I do? Be the dependent girlfriend? Or worse, the chick who's having sex with the star without any promise of anything?"

"You're free, Nicole. There's nothing holding you here."

"What about my job?"

"What about your designs?"

"Not this again."

"Yes, this again." He frowned. "Maybe it's time you did something you actually cared about."

"I care about Romantic Notions."

"But it's not yours." He grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them up. "You have a real talent for designing. I may not know anything about fashion, but I can tell when something's good, and yours are amazing. It's up your alley, too. You love romance. But you aren't going to go for it. You're going to let the real thing pass you by, because you're scared to do it."

"I am not," she said tightly, even as part of her knew he was right.

He tugged his T-shirt over his head. "You're scared to go for that, and you're scared to go for us. Because whatever you think this is about, it's only about the fact that you aren't willing to give us a chance."

She yanked her robe off the hook on her door. "I knew nothing good would could come from this fling."

He paused, staring at her. The hurt in his eyes stung her heart. "See, Nicole, that's where we're different. This was never a fling to me. This was as real as it gets. To me, this was love."

She froze, barely able to breathe.

He lifted the necklace from his neck and set it on her bedside table. Without a word he strode from her room.

She watched him leave, and then she stared at the arrowhead she'd given him so long ago and knew she'd lost her best friend forever.