Star-Crossed Letters (Falling for Famous #1)

“You love that I’m a menace.”

His soft smile makes my stomach tilt. “Maybe. Sometimes,” he says.

My heart warms at watching their obvious affection. I have so many questions. How long were they foster siblings? Was their bond formed in a loving family, or forged in the fire of pain and neglect? I pray it was the former but fear the latter. Daisy never speaks of her childhood or parents, but I’ve always had the sense there is trauma in her past.

I’ve been so focused on the drama in the back seat, I’m surprised when the car smoothly slows, and I realize we’re in front of Daisy’s store. She lives in the apartment above her vintage shop. I always assumed she was a renter. For the first time, though, I wonder if Chase owns the building, if he bought it for her. He must be a millionaire many times over.

“Thanks for the ride, big bro,” Daisy says. She gives him a kiss on the cheek.

He returns the gesture with a quick hug. “I’ll call you later so we can meet up before I have to head back to LA. I figure you’ll probably need to catch up on sleep today, but I want to see what you’ve done with the store. I’m proud of you for sticking with it and building your business.”

“You never said why you’re in town.” Daisy looks pleased with the compliment but tries to hide her smile and shifts the subject away from her.

“I had to take care of some business.”

“You’re being evasive. You do that thing with your eyes when you’re hiding something.”

Silence lengthens. She shakes her head and slides over to the door, opening it. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to interrogate you further.”

“Just get some rest, brat. I’ll talk to you later.” He shifts to me. “I’ll drop you in front of your house, Olivia. I think you said you live on this block?” Chase’s words halt me mid-scoot toward the car’s door. I don’t recall saying that, but maybe I did when we talked in the café.

“It’s just a few houses down, and there aren’t any other parking spaces free on the block,” I point out as I try to step out of the car as gracefully as Daisy did while holding on to the hem of my dress so I don’t flash a movie star.

I stumble onto the sidewalk. The wind is especially strong this morning, and I shiver, wishing for the hundredth time that I’d worn a coat last night. Hell, even a scarf would be nice.

“Here. You’ll freeze,” Chase says. I turn in surprise to see that he’s slid out of the car also and is standing next to me, tall and protective. He drapes his jacket over my shoulders. Soft fabric that smells like cedar, spice, and heaven envelops me. His eyes are hot and hard, scanning my scantily covered body.

Our eyes hold. “Thank you,” I manage to whisper.

I turn to see the large driver leaning against the SUV, his eyes roaming up and down the street, as if assessing it for hidden danger. Daisy, who has always been immune to the cold, stands on the steps of her house with a speculative look in her eye.

“Duncan,” Chase says, “Slight change of plans. Since we’re here, why don’t you go in with Daisy and do a quick security assessment in her store and apartment now? See if she needs a new alarm system.”

Daisy huffs out a breath. “I have an alarm, and it’s fine, Chase. Stop being so overprotective.”

“Humor me. I know you’re tired, but it will only take a few minutes, and I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe.”

She sighs, but waves Duncan toward her house. “Come on, big guy. You can come home with me. You coming too, Chase?” Daisy asks.

“In a few minutes,” he says. I feel his gaze on me, and it makes me shiver even more than the wind. “I’ll walk Olivia home first, make sure she gets there safe.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Duncan asks.

The neighborhood is quiet except for a lady walking her dog farther down the street and a few men waiting for the bus on the corner.

“I’ll be quick.”

Duncan nods, though with the hard set of his jaw, he does not seem pleased.

I suddenly feel shy. Flustered, I turn to Daisy to say goodbye.

She grins at me. “See you later, Olivia. Sorry again for, you know, the whole getting arrested thing.”

“I should’ve known better.” I laugh.

“Let’s break up this party now,” Duncan urges again, putting a hand at Daisy’s back to move her forward.

She pulls keys out of her sparkly bag and opens the smaller door at the far side of her shop, which leads to her upstairs apartment. She says something to Duncan and laughs teasingly as he follows her in.

The door shuts behind them, and I’m acutely aware of Chase’s commanding presence next to me. I clear my throat.

“My house is this way.” I point to the end of the block. “But you really don’t need to walk me home.”

I can’t figure out why he’s still here. I pull his coat tighter around me. Why did he give it to me? He didn’t put the coat on his sister, Daisy, even though she was dressed almost as scantily as me. I give him a side glance, my heart stuttering as I take in that famous profile.

“I want to,” he says.

I follow him toward my house in bewildered excitement. His steps are slow, as if matching the stride of my shorter legs. I can’t figure him out. Silence stretches as we walk side by side, arms almost touching. The click-clack of my heels is loud in the stillness of the street.

“Well, here’s my place,” I say when we get to the pale-pink Victorian.

I try to see the house I know and love so well through his eyes. It seems older, sadder. The sagging steps and chipped paint are like glaring scars on the once-elegant visage. He probably lives in some ultramodern palace with nothing out of place.

“It’s beautiful,” he says.

When I turn to him, he’s looking at me and not the house.

“Just like I imagined,” he murmurs, tearing his gaze from mine and taking in my childhood home, as if fascinated.

“Imagined?”

A car passes, and he turns his head, his arm coming up to block his face. It reminds me we’re in the open, where anyone could walk by and snatch a photo.

But would that really be so bad?

“Well, I guess this is goodbye?” I don’t know why I say it like a question. He’s leaving tomorrow. This will be the last time I’ll see him, unless you count on a movie screen or in a magazine. Sadness flickers at that thought.

A line forms between his eyes. “I guess it is.” His voice, low and rough, skates over my nerve endings.

But instead of walking away, he closes the distance between us with a step. My pulse races. A gust of wind whips my hair into my face, but I don’t move. I can’t. I’m frozen by his intoxicating nearness and intent gaze. He leans down and pushes my hair back with gentle fingers, tucking the strands behind my ear.

I snuggle deeper into his jacket. It smells of him, as if I’m being wrapped in his embrace. I don’t want to give it back. Ever.

The silence between us stretches like a band about to break.

Take a risk, Olivia. You won’t get this chance again. Don’t waste it. That thought whispers through my mind, as clear as if Nanna is standing next to me speaking it.

“You must be tired. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?” I say before I change my mind. “You can take it to-go. If I know Daisy, she doesn’t have much more than a box of Pop-Tarts and maybe olives for martinis in her kitchen. It’s the least I can do.”

As embarrassed as I am at my forwardness, I’m also proud. There’s a rush of freedom that flows through me. I took a risk.

He doesn’t say anything for a long minute, as if debating my offer. My fledgling pride at my boldness starts to deflate. Gah. Risks are overrated.

“Never mind. You must be so busy.”

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