Catch a Falling Star (In Love in the Limelight Book 3) Read online

  “It was easy to sneak in visits when nobody was looking.”

  Colin noticed how she started blinking rapid-fire.

  “Oh, he's going to hate this so much. Excuse me.”

  And he watched her flee into a Prius, but not the one she'd driven to the adoption party.

  Colin watched it again, and the pieces all fit together so damn perfectly. He watched it again. This time, he focused with a steely calm. When it finished playing for the third time, he clenched both fists. “Son of a bitch.”

  “I can explain.”

  Colin bolted from the couch in a crouch and whipped around to face the doorway.

  And he found himself face to face with Wendy Hunter.

  Wendy stood with one hand on the doorjamb. She wore old jeans and a worn LSU T-shirt. Scuffed sneakers. Her hair was lighter than usual and pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her nose looked funny and so did her mouth. But it was her. He'd know that voice anywhere. And her eyes. Actually, they were the wrong color. Wendy's eyes weren't blue.

  Colin stood up straight. He didn't say anything. Wendy didn't say anything.

  “Wait one second, please,” he finally said as he focused on his phone. He texted Nic. You and all the other assistants handle practice today. You're in charge.

  A text came back in a nano-second. Got it.

  The reply arrived with such lightning speed that Colin knew everybody was on top of the story already. Everybody knew.

  He tossed the phone onto an end table. “How did you get in here?”

  “I slipped in when you walked out front to get the paper this morning. It was starting to get light and your screen door took forever to swing shut. So I slipped in.”

  “You've been here since before I left on my run?”

  She nodded. “I hid out in the cellar.”

  Colin looked her over. “You in disguise?”

  Wendy's hand went to her face. “Yeah. Right. Hold on.” She slipped away and Colin heard the door close to the small bathroom off the kitchen.

  Great. A woman was in his bathroom. And not just any woman. A superstar diva. A diva who just drove a train through his life. He was not going to wait on her. Colin ran upstairs to grab a quick shower.

  Shut inside the bleachy clean blue and white tiled bathroom, Wendy dove into her bag for the cream to remove her make-up. “Rat whiskers!”

  No cream. Well, it didn't matter that she couldn't remove all the make-up to her satisfaction. After all, since she'd gotten it on, it had worked to get her to Colin unnoticed.

  Colin.

  Wendy picked up her phone. Yep, more tweets, more posts, more speculation, more everything. She was obliterating the guy's life. Totally. And she knew they were surrounded. She'd heard the reporters gathering outside as she'd been hiding in the basement. The throng would only get worse, she knew, when local reporters were joined by the out-of-town paparazzi.

  The clock was ticking. If Wendy smoothed all of Colin's ruffled feathers fast, she could be gone before the most treacherous reporters and photographers arrived. But she'd have to hurry like a bunny in a race at the fair. She quickly slid the thin plastic strips from alongside her gums and then worked carefully on removing the extensions from her hair. She popped out her contacts. Spotting a bar of soap in the holder above the sink, Wendy turned on the water and cleaned off her expertly applied make-up the old-fashioned way, wincing at what the supermarket-soap was doing to her skin. She looked a wreck, but a lot like herself. The mussed hair and no make-up were highly unusual though. Highly. But that was okay. She was Wendy unplugged. She somehow knew that trying to talk to Colin while she was incognito would not go over.

  Taking a deep, galvanizing breath, she opened the bathroom door and strode out like the commander of a navy in dress whites. But no audience greeted her or applauded or bowed down at her entrance. Colin wasn't in the kitchen waiting for her.

  Where the jellybeans was the man? They had things to discuss and T minus ten seconds to do it.

  Wendy lifted her chin and marched toward the living room. As she crossed the front hall, she stopped on a dime, lips parted.

  He stopped, too.

  Colin stopped. Colin, who was on his way down the stairs.

  Wendy swallowed. His hair was wet and he smelled like the kind of soap she'd used to wash her face. He wore a clean gray athletic T-shirt and jeans. No shoes or socks. Good God, the man was fresh out of the shower.

  Colin continued down the stairs, getting closer to her, step by step.

  “So this is the real you?” He spoke quietly, his lips curving into a hint of a smile. His fingers tugged at a strand of her hair not perfectly in place.

  Wendy stepped back, trying to smooth her hair. “Uh, no. The real me takes better care of her hair. And her skin.”

  Colin's smile got bigger. “Roughin' it out here with us rednecks, are you? No team of beauticians to put you back to looking picture perfect?” He clucked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head. “You should have thought to bring the make-up artist who did your disguise in the first place.”

  “Hey!” Wendy took another step back, at least far enough away so he couldn't see her pores. “I did the disguise myself. And I DON'T need a make-up artist to make me look like me!”

  “Then why such a slap-dash job? I think I see an eye-brow hair pointing the wrong way.”

  “Ha ha,” she said. “But I was hurrying so that I didn't keep you waiting. I was thinking of YOU.”

  “Fair enough,” Colin said. “And it was a pretty good disguise. You looked like a college kid.”

  Wendy almost preened. “Going under the radar is amazingly easy when I don't glam it up at all.”

  “Well,” Colin said, his features turning pensive, “you're brilliant at turning into whoever you want to be, whenever it suits you, aren't you? Fucking brilliant.”

  Wendy almost winced at the icy splash of his words. Then she took a step towards him. “I had to do it,” she said fiercely. “They somehow stumbled onto my personal connection with Jon Robin.”

  “I know why you did it!”

  Wendy stepped back and folded her arms, all calm and in control. “Then what's the point of getting mad at me?”

  “What's the point?” Colin paced and turned and came back at her. “What's the point? Wendy, do you realize what you've done? How many people you've messed with? Did you even think before you decided to announce my betrayal to the world? Or was I expendable enough that you didn't care?”

  “Betrayal?” Her voice was scarcely a whisper as she closed her eyes. “But I thought … Lola never said you were with someone. I thought you were single. Unattached.”

  “I am single. But I'm not unattached. Wendy, do you know what I mean to the kids in this town? How much they depend on me? Trust me? And now they find out I've been secretly in love for the entire past school year? With someone from across the country who might rip me right out of their lives?”

  Wendy could feel herself almost collapse with relief. She rubbed at her breastbone with her fingertips, trying to calm her panicky heart. “Okay,” she said. “It's okay.”

  “Okay?!”

  “For a second, I thought I might have landed myself in a ready-made sex scandal. But you just meant your students.”

  “Just?”

  Wendy took three calming breaths. “Colin, they're kids. And not even your kids. And what kids really like grown-ups all that much?”

  Colin was looking at her with such bewilderment.

  “I think you're more invested in them than they are in you,” she said softly. “If anything, they'll think this news is cool.”

  “Cool?” he exploded. “Wendy, they depend on me. And you just launched a missile into the one thing in their lives that they can count on.”

  Wendy made herself go all concerned and caring. “I get it, Colin,” she said, making her voice gentle. “I do. You give your life to these kids. But they're kids who are thinking of the future, not of you.”

 
Colin looked at her with such … shock. And Wendy knew how it could hurt when you saw how little you really meant to someone else.

  He turned away and walked into the living room, toward the big window facing the front yard. Wendy was relieved to see that the blinds and curtains that were probably so effective against the Louisiana sunshine hid them away quite adeptly.

  Parting the handy drapes, Colin peeked through a crack in the blinds. Then he looked back at her. “You think so?”

  Wendy hated to do it, but she nodded, making sure to look sympathetic.

  Colin looked right at her and did not look away. She held his gaze, trying to send support and compassion. But … but Colin didn't look like he needed support or compassion.

  Wendy felt chills race up her spine and into her hair. She knew there was a question in her eyes, one she hadn't meant to be there. One she didn't want to be there. She didn't like not knowing everything. She wanted to be the one in control.

  In answer to her blasted confusion, Colin tipped his head toward the front window and raised his brows.

  What? He wanted her to look out the window? Like she was going to see Finian's rainbow out there? Wendy moved up next to Colin and slipped one fingernail between the slats of the blinds, opening up a sliver so she could see.

  And she caught her breath.

  The front yard teemed with young football players. They were all lined up along the edge of the yard—guarding the perimeter. It looked like it must be the entire high school football team. Well-muscled young men in football jerseys and athletic shorts, standing face-out toward anyone who might stop to gawk. And behind that line stood the younger kids, the smaller football players.

  Wendy could feel her nostrils flare so she bit her lip.

  “You don't get it,” he said softly. But not harshly. “A lot of these kids have it rough at home. Some of them don't even have what you would call a home. You say they're thinking of the future? Most of them are thinking about how they're going to survive today.”

  Wendy didn't look at him.

  “Having someone in their life,” he continued, “everyday, who expects something good of them … it's all some of them have.”

  Wendy cleared her throat. “They're … um … they're like elephants,” she finally said.

  Colin arched one brow as he slid her a sidelong glance. “Listen, you tiny stick bug,” he said with a wry smile. “They're not all that big.”

  “Like the running backs,” she said, flashing him a quick grin.

  And she saw the surprise dart across his face.

  Was he amazed that she remembered what they'd said at the wedding? That meant he remembered, too.

  She turned back to the crack in the blinds. “I mean their formation,” she said. “The way they're herding with the younger ones on the inside, out of harm's way. Nobody will dare barrel past the front line. The amount of force needed would flatten the little kids in back. Those kids are smart. And loyal. And—”

  Wendy felt the catch in her throat and stopped talking.

  And they love you.

  Would her fans ever form a barricade to protect her? As if. Not that she had the type of fans who would break down barricades, either. Come to think of it, her fans were kind of humdrum.

  And they sure didn't love her. Not like this. Wendy turned back to Colin. “You win.”

  “It's not a contest.”

  “Doesn't mean you don't win. Even if it seems like nobody's keeping score, there are always winners and always losers.”

  Colin's expression got fierce. “That's not how you see life, is it? Always about winning? And if you don't win, then you're a loser?”

  “That is life. You're a coach, for Pete's sake. You, of all people, should get that.”

  “I understand that when you're competing, you play to win. But not every effort is a competition. And not every success is a win. Sometimes it's just … happiness.”

  “What's the damn difference?”

  Colin's head snapped back at the punch in her words.

  Wendy stood her ground, keeping her jaw and neck muscles so tight, to make sure everything stayed under wraps. She looked at him, icy fire in her eyes. And he looked back.

  “Happiness doesn't have a loser on the other side.”

  “There's always a loser on the other side.”

  “No.”

  The one word felt so strong and commanding … and pulsing with faith in her. Wendy lowered her eyes, pretty sure she just heard the Voice of Coach Scott. Jeepers. No wonder the lawn was filled with stalwart, adoring football players.

  “No.” He said again. “When something good happens to someone, you can be happy for them. Overjoyed. You don't have to die inside because you don't have what they have. You cherish the joy in your own life.”

  Wendy blinked rapidly. “Come on. Your own heart doesn't feel empty when you see how happy Lola and Arlen are?”

  And God, the way he was looking at her. So wide-eyed and disbelieving and sad.

  “No,” he said, taking a step closer. “God, no. No. Wendy. I am so happy for Lola. So happy. I used to think—” But Colin stopped talking, interrupting himself in the middle of his sentence. He took a deep breath, then he seemed to switch direction and hone the beam right on her. “And what about you?” he asked without preamble. “You got them their kids. You made them a million times happier! Why? To torture yourself?”

  Wendy stepped back from him and folded her arms across her tiny frame. “It was the closest I could get to that kind of … magic. I wanted to be a part of it. To feel its heat.”

  Colin wasn't saying anything.

  “My own family …” she continued. “Well, never mind. I mean, I ... never really felt … closeness, you know?”

  Colin cleared his throat. “Didn't Lola tell me you have a brother? Who lives in Los Angeles?”

  “Kyle's a douche-canoe.”

  Colin burst out laughing. “What a potty-mouth you have this morning, Miss Hunter!”

  She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “You bring it out in me, Coach.”

  Colin smiled back.

  And Wendy knew it was time to get things settled.

  “Please,” she said, scurrying quickly to the couch and sitting down. “Please, come and talk to me. We have to get this sorted out.”

  Colin stood there by the window, looking down at her. “Okay,” he said. “But in the kitchen.”

  And he turned around and walked out of Wendy's orbit. She scrabbled up from her chosen perch to follow him.

  By the time she got to the kitchen, Colin was standing at the large wooden table, his hands on the back of one of the wooden chairs. Wendy took the seat he indicated across the table. Then he sat down. “Okay, talk.”

  Wendy put on a bit of a pouty face. “Jeepers, Colin. You don't have to be so abrupt.”

  He flashed her a plastic smile. “You're right. I should be the picture of politeness and decorum like you. So please,” he said with mock sweetness, “tell me what you came all the way here to tell me.”

  Wendy sat up straight. “Last night, I was at a dinner my publicist set up. Run of the mill. I hadn't heard any rumblings.” She looked across the table at Colin. “In the space of a few hours, someone got hold of something. I don't even know what. I haven't had time to figure it all out. But they knew something about Jon. About me and Jon.”

  “You and Jon, like you and Jon?” Colin's eyes got huge.

  “Ha!” Wendy barked. “How I wish this were nothing more than some sex scandal. But no, I never had sex with Jon, so you can put your eyes back in your head.”

  Colin at least looked abashed at that. “It's just the way it sounded.”

  “And that's how they were making it sound,” Wendy said, jumping back into her story. “I could tell from the snippets they were throwing at me that they didn't know anything. But they knew Jon's name, in connection with me and the family.”

  Colin nodded.

  Wendy took a deep breath. “I had to get
them away from the story. And nothing distracts the media or swamps the concerns of fans like a wedding.”

  Colin raised his brows and tipped his head, clearly not buying it.

  “It's true. You go grocery shopping, right? You must notice in the check-out lines how often the tabloids are talking about celebrity engagements and weddings.”

  Colin looked like he was considering what she said. “So, that's why celebrities are always getting married and divorced at the drop of a hat? To cover some scandal?”

  Wendy smirked. “Maybe ...”

  Colin looked at her for a long moment. “Is any part of your life real, Wendy? Or are you acting all the time?”

  Wendy sat back sharply as if he'd just blown coal dust in her eyes.“No comment,” she said briskly. “My point is, I needed a distraction. Immediately. An engagement is Media Frenzy 101. And I thought of you.”

  They looked at each other across the table.

  “Lola's single brother,” he said, twisting his lips. “I come with the right strings to tie me to this whole charade.”

  “I can make it go away if you don't want to help me. But … please don't out-and-out deny it. Please pretend to break up with me, instead. At least a break up would help protect the truth.”

  “And save your ass.”

  Wendy crossed her arms and honed in on him with snake-like eyes. “Listen up, Bucko—”

  “Bucko?” Colin laughed. “Did you just call me 'Bucko'? Okay, Richie Cunningham, hit me with it.”

  “You know why I did it, Colin. You know. This isn't some glory-seeking move by me where I'm expecting you to be a perfect gentleman and not expose me.”

  “That's what you think perfect gentleman do, is it? Chase after crazy women and back up their selfish lunacy?”

  Wendy leveled a steady look at him. “I was hoping you'd take one for the team.”

  A muscle in his jaw jumped and he looked away. “You've fixed it so I can't back out.”

  “I didn't plan this,” Wendy protested. “I'm in survival mode right now. And I'm clinging onto your lifeboat.”

  Colin kept quiet.

  “Please, Colin. Will you help me? Pretend to be engaged to me until this blows over?”

  “Blows over?”