A Tempting Christmas (6 page)
th
2013
As I sit on the patio overlooking the shoreline of Malibu below, I try to take my therapist’s advice and reflect back on the times in my life when I was happy…truly happy. Closing my eyes, I inhale and exhale the salt air, trying to find my happy place. As soon as I close them and let my body relax, I’m immediately greeted by the dark, enchanting blue eyes of the most gorgeous man ever.
I’m overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through my body as I take in his dimpled smile and try to remember the sound of his voice. Sadness slowly seeps into my bones as I struggle to remember the deep timbre of his laughter and the sound of his voice when he would whisper
I love you
into my ear as I would drift off to sleep in his arms.
Cane is…correction, was the love of my life. After all this time, I still struggle with acceptance. How does one accept the fact that she has to live the rest of her life without her soul mate? I fear that once I finally accept he’s truly gone; I’ll sink deeper into the sea of sorrow I’ve been trying so desperately not to drown in.
The day he died, I wanted to be dead too. A life without Cane is something I never wanted to experience. Now that I’ve hit rock bottom, I’m stuck here at this God forsaken Rehab Center in Malibu, where other rich and famous people, like me, come to try to heal and overcome addiction. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even be here right now. But my record label has insisted I get clean, or they’ll cancel my U.S. tour. I’d much rather do a few lines of coke to numb my mind and dive into my music. It’s the only way I’ve gotten through these last few years. They don’t get it; no one does. I struggle on a daily basis just trying to get through the day without the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.
So here I sit, lying on the patio lounge, taking in the warm California sun, and playing a game of ‘
Remember When
’ with myself. My therapist says I need to learn to reflect on the life I had with Cane. The good and the bad and find a way to heal and move on. It’s easier said than done. It’s been almost eight fucking years, and the pain is still as piercing as it was the day I buried him. Right now the desire to get high or fuck the first person who walks by me is almost overwhelming.
Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I slowly count back from one hundred, and try to push back the voices in my head that are screaming at me to walk my ass out of here, go back to Miami and tell everyone to fuck off. I need to do this. My dream was to travel the world performing and seeing my name topping the charts. I promised Cane I’d never give up that dream; I’d fight until I achieved it for the both of us. He loved me so deeply that my dreams were his dreams too. He wanted to see me achieve them as much, if not more, than I did.
So here I sit, in fucking rehab, willing myself to get clean and give my fans and my label what they want and deserve; a drug free Brittan, who is committed to this new tour and a new album.
Focusing on the sounds of the seagulls flying above me, and the roar of the Pacific Ocean as it crashes fiercely against the shore below, I begin my journey back into my past. My eyes start to well up with tears and a ghost of a smile dances across my lips. I slowly let my mind begin to replay the most memorable moments I had with Cane and the moments that changed the course of our lives forever…
th
2000
The beaches of Miami are jam packed with people. Everyone’s coming with their lawn chairs, trying to find the perfect spot to watch the fireworks show. With my best friend, Roxie by my side, we trudge through the cool sand; lawn chairs in one hand, and our rocket popsicles in the other. We find the perfect spot by the shore. A place where we can dip our feet in the warm Atlantic water and watch the show without a million heads bobbing in front of us.
The first set of fireworks explodes; illuminating the sky in bright colors of blues, silvers, and reds. It’s breathtaking…my favorite thing about Fourth of July has to be the fireworks. Different patterns and color combinations light up the sky for over an hour; providing a magnificent show that I never want to end. The grand finale begins with hundreds of fireworks bursting into the sky at once, leaving me in a state of amazement. I glance towards my right, noticing the hottest guy walking towards me.
He smiles down at me, and I instantly melt. “Crap, looks like I missed them? At least I made it in time for the finale.” He says to the two guys standing next to him. They all plop down in the sand beside my chair. In all of my fifteen years, I’ve never felt butterflies like I’m feeling right now.
Elbowing Roxie, I signal my eyes towards the group of boys that just sat beside us. At first she’s annoyed because I’m bugging her while she’s trying to watch the finale. Once she gazes in my direction and follows my line of sight to the hotties sitting on the sand beside me, her mood quickly changes.
Flashing an impish grin at Roxie, I turn back towards the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. “You made it just in time; the finale is the best part,” I say a little louder than I wanted.
The loud detonations from the fireworks make it impossible to have a normal conversation.
“I couldn’t agree more, the finale is my favorite, too.” Giving me a wink, he extends his hand towards me. “I’m Cane.”
I hesitantly reach my hand out, taking his into mine. The contact sends my heart racing, and I’m suddenly covered with goose bumps. I manage to squeak out, “Hi, I’m Brittan.”
Purchase your copy of Tempt My Heart Now!
For anyone who’s hasn’t fallen in love with Savannah & Kayden’s story from my Bestselling Savannah Series, here is a Sneak Peek into my bestselling novel.
Purchase the Boxed Set today at:
Chapter One
After a full week of working, the last thing I want to do is kick off my weekend by attending dinner with my parents. I would rather walk over burning coals than have to sit through another two hour dinner with my mother and father.
The only thing making it bearable is Logan, my boyfriend of four years. Since my parents returned from touring, they insist we get together every Friday for dinner. I admit I miss them while they’re away, and I do love catching up from time-to-time, but every week is a bit ridiculous.
I’m in serious need of some fun; ‘fun with a capital F’, as they say. My plan is to rush through dinner, and meet up with Brooklyn to go and let loose. Brooklyn’s my best friend and partner in crime. We’ve known each other our entire lives, and it seems we’ve become more like sisters than friends.
Our mothers had the same relationship, so while my parents were performing their world tours, I spent every free moment at Brooklyn’s in an attempt to escape the maids, butlers and nannies that filled my house.
Part of me knows that I was blessed to grow up in a huge mansion with the freedom to come and go as I pleased. It was fun, at first, to be a teenager with no one to answer to, but it got old. Sometimes, I just wanted a father who sat up all night waiting for me to get home from a date. I think I was the only girl who wished for a curfew.
Instead, I settled for a butler who was kind enough to wait up, and let me inside if I was too drunk. I know that my parents did the best they could to spend as much time with me as possible, but when you’re country music’s number one singing duo it’s hard to find more than a few hours a week. Our time together consisted of hurried phone calls, texts, emails, and distracted video chats, with very little actual face to face contact.
I finally round the corner to my parent’s gated community, and pray Logan has already arrived so we can get dinner started as soon as possible. I met Logan four years ago at one of my parents’ annual parties in the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.
Logan’s father is my mother’s plastic surgeon, and since he does such an extraordinary job of keeping her thirty year old looks, he gets a VIP invite to all their lavish parties. I lucked out when he brought Logan as his plus one. He took my breath away the moment I laid eyes on him.
He was tall and tanned, with a well-built surfer’s body. His gorgeous, naturally blonde hair was cut short along the sides and back but longer on top. I loved how he kept it natural looking. The complete lack of product made me yearn to run my fingers through it, especially after he had spent the day in the salty water of the Pacific. His eyes were such a bright blue that it almost seemed like they were glowing; I could look into those eyes all day, and his smile is the sexiest thing I have ever seen on a man.
“Thank you God,” I whisper to myself, as I pull into my parent’s driveway and see Logan’s car parked out front. The house really was breathtaking, and every time I see it I feel blessed to have been raised in such a magnificent home.
It’s a three story Southern Colonial style house built completely from luscious red brick with towering white pillars outside the entire first level, and inviting steps leading up to a fantastic porch. The second story has a full balcony, and floor to ceiling windows that are framed by white shutters that cover the entire front of the house.
Outside our home, and wrapping around both sides of our entrance, are vast gardens with shrubs and flower bushes. The first thing you notice as you pull into the drive is a Victorian style water fountain; the majesty of which makes you feel like you’re entering a house in Memphis, rather than Beverly Hills. This is the full intention of my Tennessee born parents, who wanted to bring a little Southern living when we moved to Los Angeles.
I was five when we moved into this house, and I only moved out two years ago when Brooklyn and I finally decided to get our own place in the Hollywood Hills. Brooklyn’s father is CEO of
The Queen Victoria
cruise line and subsidizes her half of the rent until her “acting career” picks up. This allows us to live in a place overlooking the “Hollywood” sign, with an incredible view of L.A.
“Hey sweetie, how was work?” My mother asks, pulling me in for a hug as I enter the house.
She looks as beautiful as ever in her dress pants, and silk sleeveless top. She has the same long blonde hair as I do, but hers stops at her shoulder blades and mine is down to my butt. I’m told all the time that I look like my mother. It’s a compliment, as I cannot deny she’s beautiful.
We both have bright blue eyes, tiny petite noses, and heart shaped faces. Our family is blessed with a high metabolism, and curves in all the right places. The only thing different about us is our height. She is 5’8”, and I, unfortunately got the raw end of the deal, coming up at just 5’3”.
After a very light hug, and air kisses, we enter the living room to join my dad and Logan.
“Work has been amazing! We’re working on this huge issue we have coming up
: The Most Influential Men of 2012
. Eloise has almost the entire list completed, and I get the fun part of picking out the best photo to use for each man. I also get to assist in interviewing a few of them!” I’m giddy just thinking about it, as I sit down on the over-sized sectional.
Putting my hand on Logan’s thigh, I rest my lips against his ear and whisper “Hello”. I plant a gentle kiss on his cheek and smile up into his gorgeous baby blues.
“Well hello to you, too.” His smile instantly makes me turn into putty on the couch.
He gently traces his fingers up and down my back, as his eyes drift from me back to the game. Logan isn’t a huge fan of being overly affectionate in front of my parents. He says he feels that it’s disrespectful. Sliding my hand into his, I snuggle up against him, and focus my attention on my father, who’s glued to the wide screen television.
“Hey Dad, how’s the game going?” I ask, as he turns and flashes me a small smile. He’s lounging in his large leather recliner, donned in his favorite fashion ensemble: blue jeans, cowboy boots, and tight fitting black t-shirt. He could easily pass for a decade younger than his forty-five years, with his jet black hair shaved to the scalp and well groomed goatee. He is six feet tall, but his demeanor easily tricks you into thinking he’s closer to seven.
Maverick Livingston only takes one thing as seriously as his music, surprisingly, and that’s college football. He has it pre-set on the DVR to record automatically every week that way no matter what he’s doing, can still catch the game.
“Going great, Honey. Tennessee is winning twenty four nil,” he replies, grinning ear to ear. He may live in Beverly Hills, but his heart and soul are in Tennessee.
“Paisley, I have to know what’s for dinner. It smells absolutely delicious!” Logan asks, rubbing his stomach as he walks into the kitchen. He can be so suave and adorable, all at the same time.
“Roasted chicken, BBQ ribs, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans and freshly baked sweet rolls. For dessert, we have your favorite Logan: peach cobbler! Mrs. Trinton and I have been slaving away in the kitchen all afternoon, and I have to agree it does look and smell exquisite.” My mother says, smiling sweetly back at Logan.
Thankfully dinner goes by smoothly and quickly. Dad and Logan discuss the football season, and whom they think will end up in the bowl games. I know very little about the sport, and avoid the conversation altogether, instead choosing to talk with my mother about my job at
Envy
.
Envy is one of the world’s most popular magazines, covering everything from celebrity weddings and babies, top movies and music to this season’s hottest fashion trends. Its success is International, and I’m thrilled to have finally landed my dream job there.
Following a three year internship, I took a chance on an Assistant Editor position for Eloise Spaulding; a vacancy thought to be one of the most sought after, in L.A., I couldn’t believe it when I found out they’d picked me – it’s such a huge accomplishment for someone my age.
We thanked my parents for a lovely dinner and said our goodbyes. As Logan and I walk to our cars, I send Brooklyn a quick text:
Me:
Hey girl! Just leaving my parent’s house. You up for some dancing at Vertigo??
Less than a minute later my phones buzzing, alerting me I got a new text.
Brooklyn:
Are you kidding? I was BORN READY! lol, I’m at the house already, my audition for As The Days Go By went okay, fingers crossed! I’ll start getting ready, see you in a few! xoxo
“I just sent Brooklyn a quick text to see if she wanted to go to Vertigo tonight, she said
definitely
,” I laugh.
“I think that girl would party for a living, if she could,” Logan says dryly, snaking his arm around my waist, and walking with me towards my car.
To say he isn’t Brooklyn’s biggest fan, would be putting it very lightly. Their personalities are total opposites, and Logan can’t stand her; I can never quite get my head around it though; it’s frustrating to say the least. Life would be a whole lot easier, if they’d just get along.
“So, are you up for joining us? We can head back to your place for the night, if you don’t want to stay at our house”.
Logan lets out a long sigh, “I’m exhausted, and I have a stack of paperwork to do when I get home. How about you and Brooklyn go out and have fun, and we can get together tomorrow for lunch?” Opening my car door for me, Logan grips the top of the door; leaning down our lips connect for a short, sweet kiss.
Pulling away from my lips, he leaves them aching for more. Smiling up at him, I gaze into his mesmerizing, bright blue eyes. “Okay, but you know if you want me to skip the club and stay in with you tonight, I’m fine with that. I can pop some popcorn, and watch a movie or something while you work?”
“No, don’t be silly; you go have fun and dance until your feet want to fall off. You’ve worked all week; you deserve to have some fun,” with another quick kiss, he’s in his car and driving away.
Buckling up, I turn the key, firing up the engine. I
love
my car; it was a gift from my parents last year for my twenty-third birthday. They thought my last car had been driven long enough…If you consider four and a half years a long time, that is. It’s a white, 2012 A5 convertible; my dream car, and a huge step up from the convertible Volkswagen Beetle my parents bought me for my high school graduation.
Tonight I’m going to have fun with or without Logan. Sometimes it’s depressing having a boyfriend who would rather sit at home and read
Time
magazine than go out clubbing with me. I guess it comes with the territory when you’re dating a thirty-two year old focused on building a business empire, and not so much into going out and partying.
He said he did all that in college, now it’s time to focus on making his business a success. That’s one of the many reasons I love him, though. He’s determined to build a successful business to provide for us when it comes time to getting married, and start a family.
Walking into our two-story Hollywood Hills home, Brooklyn is already dressed to impress in a very tight, very revealing black dress, with a plunging neckline and open back. She’s paired it with fantastic black, glitter peep toe heels; their red soles easily distinguishing them as Christian Louboutin to anyone who knows anything about shoes.
I whistle when she spins in front of me, “You look HOT! I think you’re going to be beating the boys off you at Vertigo tonight!”
Brooklyn is gorgeous. She has intense, brown eyes and dark auburn hair, which cascades in light curls around her face, and stops to draw attention to the right place on her impressive chest. She’s a good few inches taller than me, with legs to die for. They seem to go on forever – one of the reasons; I imagine; guys cannot keep their eyes off of her.
“Thank you,” she laughs. “All I know, is I’m finding myself a hot guy to go home with. I skipped the gym today, but fully intend on getting a good, hard workout in tonight.” A small laugh escapes her lips. Winking at me, she struts up to the kitchen island and hops up onto a bar stool.
Rolling my eyes, I flash a small smile at Brooklyn as I head into my room to get ready. “Believe me, dressed like that, there’s no way you will have a problem finding a nice piece of ass to help you burn off some calories.”
I pick out my favorite white halter dress, the one with silver sequins around my neck. I need something stylish but cool, because God knows; it’s going to be smoldering in that club. I throw on a pair of silver glitter heels, and I’m ready to go.
“Let me guess? Logan was tired, and insisted we go to the club on our own? I honestly don’t know what you see in that guy. Yeah, he’s freaking hotter than hot, but he has the personality of a ninety year old man,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, but he’s sweet; there’s nothing wrong with a man who’s determined to be on our list of
Most Influential Men
one day!” I’m trying to be as serious as possible, without laughing my ass off at her stupid facial expressions. “Okay! I admit he can be
boring
, but he sure as hell makes up for it in the bedroom,” Winking at Brooklyn, I can’t contain my laughter. Her eyes are about to pop right out of their sockets.
“Oh. My. God! Savannah, believe me; I’ve heard you enough times to know.
Please do not remind me
! I’m worried about you. I swear if you were getting mind blowing sex from Jared Leto, then I would be creaming in my panties. But mind blowing sex with Logan Sanders? Yuck! I think I just puked a little in my mouth,” she says, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Brooklyn Bennett: Always Miss Dramatic.