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Eyeing his wide shoulders and muscled physique, she longed to sink against his chest and be wrapped up in his strong, protective arms.
“Yes, I’d like that very much, and I’d like to talk some more, if that’s okay with you.”
“It’s more than okay with me,” he said with a smile as he reached for her hand. His fingers wrapped around hers, and as he led her up the steps and into the ocean front lounge, she felt herself begin to relax. There was nowhere else she wanted to be. “What can I get you?” he asked, moving to the bar.
“Orange juice, then tell me about you—your family—how you ended up here.”
He poured her drink, then grabbed a beer for himself and ambled back to her.
“Where do I start?” he muttered, handing her the glass and sitting down. “In a nutshell, I had demanding parents, athletic brothers, academic sisters, and I was the middle child who couldn’t do either. Acting became my escape. I loved it, and I wasn’t half bad. I spent two years studying business in college, totally not my thing, so I took what little money I had and moved out here to LA. It was the best decision I ever made.”
“You’re not kidding,” Stella remarked. “Your family must be very proud of you.”
“I guess, but we don’t talk much. One of my sisters now and then, but I’m kind of busy with the show and everything.”
His face had crinkled, and thinking he looked sad, she slipped her arm through his.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah...the thing is...when I got the series, I wanted to buy my folks a new house, but they turned me down. I don’t know why. It was weird.”
“Really? What a shame,” she said softly, then suddenly wished she hadn’t refused the money he’d offered. “Perhaps they’re just comfortable where they are. Moving is a big deal, especially if you’ve lived somewhere for a long time.”
“That’s what they said.”
“Sometimes it’s hard for people to express what they really feel. Pride gets in the way. I’m sure they’re thrilled about your success and just don’t know how to tell you.”
“Thank you for saying that,” he murmured gratefully. “Those aren’t just words. I mean it, and speaking of feelings...I really like you, Marilyn. Not just because of what we’ve been doing, Ireally, reallylike you.”
A lock of hair had fallen across his face.
“The feeling’s mutual,” she said softly, gently moving it back in place.
“The money I—uh—I gave the envelope to Tony for you,” he began haltingly, “because I want you to have nice things and I don’t know what you like, so I can’t buy them for you.”
“Matt, you’re such a kind, lovely man,” she said with a sigh. “There’s so much about me you don’t know, but there’s one thing I must tell you. What we do together...you’re the only one.”
“I know. Tony said something about you being in an unhappy relationship. I’m sorry, and it hurts me to think about you being stuck. I’m here for you, Marilyn, whatever you need.”
She gazed into his warm, hazel eyes.
He was considerate, gentle, generous...and alone.
He deserved to be loved.
She thought about the man she’d married.
Demanding, selfish, greedy, and rough.
How could she have made such a terrible mistake?
