All That Charm: (A Morning Glory Novel Book 3) Read online

  “Aw, that’s what all the guys say,” she said, batting her gorgeous blue eyes. At that moment there was something so familiar about Lulu. Like they’d done this a hundred times. Maybe she looked like an actress he’d seen on TV, or maybe she reminded him of an old college girlfriend. Either way, something about her worked.

  “You want something stronger than water?” he asked, wiggling his glass so Jordan would know he wanted another.

  “Sure,” the waitress said with a nod. “You want something else, Lulu?”

  Lulu shook her head. “I don’t usually have drinks with patrons, but I didn’t want you showing up backstage when I’m trying to wiggle out of my girdle.”

  “You don’t wear a girdle,” he said, sliding his eyes down to her trim stomach.

  Lulu smiled. “That you know of.”

  The image of Lulu in a girdle was also kind of erotic. Nick was losing his mind right there in the middle of Gatsby’s. Sexy girdles. Jeez.

  “So what’s a good boy like you want with a bad girl like me?”

  Nick snorted. “How do you know I’m a good boy?”

  She gave him a flat stare, and again he was struck by her familiarity.

  “Okay, so I’m a bit of a Boy Scout. But a bad girl like you surely knows what to do with a Boy Scout?” He was rusty on his flirting skills, but he thought that was a good comeback. How long had it been since he’d had to try so hard to be charming?

  Years . . .

  “Ha,” Lulu said, taking another sip of water, giving him a sultry stare over the rim of her glass. “I don’t play with Boy Scouts.”

  Nick smiled. “But you could tie me up with my kerchief. That could be . . . fun.”

  Her too-blue eyes widened. “That does sound fun. Would I earn a patch or something?”

  “Is there a patch for tying up a Boy Scout and having your wicked way with him?”

  Lulu shrugged. “I was never a Boy Scout. I was a Brownie for about a week. Couldn’t do the knee socks.”

  “You’d look great in knee socks,” he said. And nothing else.

  “Oh, yeah?” she said, suddenly sobering as if she’d crossed a line. She inched her chair back. “I have to go. Thanks for the drink.”

  “Don’t go,” he said, clasping her hand.

  She pulled it loose. “Sorry. I have someone waiting for me.”

  She moved away, giving a little flirtatious wave to the table next to his. As she passed his chair, she trailed a finger across the nape of his neck. Chill bumps rose on his flesh, and that infernal need that had hooked itself inside him flared.

  Nick stood and followed her, catching her elbow just as she passed through the open doorway. “Lulu, wait.”

  She turned back to him. “I’m not available. You’re a nice guy and all, but—”

  “A Boy Scout,” he finished her sentence, releasing her elbow. Did she have a boyfriend? Or was she playing hard to get? Some girls knew how to play games.

  Her mouth twitched. “Yeah, total Boy Scout.”

  Nick wasn’t a man who took something not freely given, but at Lulu’s words, something inside him snapped. He wasn’t a goddamned Boy Scout. He was a man. With a man’s wants and needs.

  Her teasing smile disappeared as something else took its place. Nick read awareness in her eyes as easily as he could read the exit sign above her head. Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip before she caught hold of it between her teeth. Those bluebell eyes reflected the desire he knew pooled in his own eyes.

  Boy Scout, his ass.

  Nick cupped her jaw and took what he wanted.

  Eden was in trouble.

  She’d known this could happen when she’d thrown out every lick of sense she’d been given and pranced her silly ass out to Nick.

  She couldn’t say why she’d turned away from the dressing room when Fatso told her Nick wanted to buy her a drink. Maybe it was the high from nailing the rain routine. Maybe it was the idea Jess had planted in her mind the night before—that being with Nick wasn’t such a big deal. Or maybe she was tired of every damned decision in her life being so damned critical.

  So she’d spun on the ball of her shoe and tapped out to the man she yearned for like an addict wanting one last hit. Just like her mama.

  But Eden convinced herself on the way it would fine. After all, she played a part. Having a drink with Nick was a prime opportunity for her to nip the crazy attraction in the bud.

  She’d tried. Lord, she’d tried. She’d had every intention of telling him she had a boyfriend or was gay or something. But the lie hadn’t come. She didn’t know why she couldn’t cut that tenuous cord, but something in her wouldn’t allow it. Maybe it was those words he’d uttered—you make me feel like a man again. Or maybe she couldn’t take away the only chance she had to be with him.

  So instead of staying in character as Lulu and doing the dirty deed, she’d muttered something about someone waiting and dragged her finger over his nape. God, why had she done that? But she knew why. She wanted to leave the door open.

  What would it hurt?

  After all, Nick thought she was—what had the article in the magazine called her?—the “Vixen of the Vieux Carré.” He didn’t know that beneath the paint and glitz lay his nanny.

  One kiss. Then she’d make him disappear.

  Nick cupped her jaw and lowered his head. Those half-lidded eyes, that gorgeous mouth, his very essence stole her breath. She couldn’t stop herself from lifting on her toes and meeting him halfway.

  Her move startled him, and for a moment he drew back, his gaze widening before his lips twitched. Then he hauled her against his body and kissed the hell out of her.

  Heaven.

  That’s what kissing Nick was.

  Eden’s hands rose to tangle in the thick hair at the nape of his neck as his arms wound round her body, one hand finding her hip, the other curving around her back, pinning her to his hardness.

  His lips were greedy, and she let him take what he wanted, angling her head, opening her mouth to him. He tasted like scotch, and man, and other things she didn’t know existed. Things intangible but good. Oh so good.

  “Mmm,” she groaned as his hand dropped to her butt, tugging her even closer. She could feel his arousal, and that fueled the warmth creeping through her stomach. She felt boneless, weightless, transported to another place where there was only her, Nick, and this between them.

  He shifted his head, deepening the kiss, his hands moving over her back.

  “God, Lulu, I want you,” he whispered, dotting tiny kisses at the corners of her mouth.

  Lulu.

  Someone who didn’t exist.

  His words were sleet pelting her heated body. She pushed against his chest. “Stop. I have to go.”

  “No,” he said, reaching for her as she stepped away.

  “I can’t be with you, Nick.”

  “Why?” His gaze searched hers.

  “Because I—”

  “Hey, you ready?” someone called from behind her.

  She turned to find Ryan on the edge of the steps leading up to the dressing room. He held a bouquet of flowers, no doubt rectifying Jess’s guilt in not bringing Eden her favorite flowers after the show last night. The three of them had a dinner reservation at nine o’clock, and no doubt Jess had sent Ryan to fetch Eden. Having the too-good-looking Ryan standing there holding flowers and looking concerned couldn’t have been better staged than if it had been, well, staged. The opportunity to shut Nick down sat right in front of her.

  “Ryan,” she said, stepping even farther away from Nick. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Everything okay?” Ryan asked, his brow crinkling.

  “Fine. I’ll change and be right out.”

  He waggled the bouquet of white daisies. “These are for you. Your favorite, right?”

  “My absolute favorite, babe. Uh, wait for me out back?”

  Ryan blinked, obviously taken aback by the endearment. But since the man was a genius, it did
n’t take but a millisecond before he caught on. Delivering a deadly smile, he drawled, “I can help you if you need it. I’m good with . . . zippers.”

  Good Lord, the Brain looked positively wicked. “Uh, no. I’m good.”

  “Rain check then. I’ll be waiting,” Ryan said before walking back toward the outer door where she’d told them to wait for her. Jess was likely on the phone. Or something. Who knew? But it had worked out.

  Eden turned to Nick who looked one part guilty two parts junkyard dog. “I have to go.”

  The possessiveness in his expression didn’t fade. “Is that—”

  “Look.” She lifted up a hand. “I can’t do this with you. No more drinks. No more . . . whatever. Don’t ask for me again.”

  “Lulu, there’s something between us. I may be out of practice, but not stupid. If this guy is your guy, okay, I’ll back off. But if not, why not explore this thing we got?”

  “I can’t.” Eden turned and bolted to her dressing room, firmly shutting the door against the temptation. Her legs trembled and her stomach fluttered, but she’d done the right thing. Let Nick think what he would about Ryan or the reason why she couldn’t be with him, but he had to have received the message loud and clear.

  They weren’t going to happen.

  A knock on the door caused her to jump.

  Surely Nick would respect her wishes. He was an ambitious guy, but he wasn’t a douche. She cautiously opened the door and then jumped aside when Jess strode in.

  “Oh my god. That was him. Nick. Your boss,” Jess said, whirling on her like a defense attorney with conclusive proof. Aha! Got you now! “And he doesn’t know, does he?”

  “Good evening to you too, Jess.” Eden closed the door and checked behind the dressing screen to make sure no one was lurking in the adjacent costume room. With all the dancers on stage, the coast was clear. Because she really didn’t want to have this conversation out in the open.

  “You little minx. He doesn’t know you’re Lulu. Ryan overheard the whole thing. And bless him, for a smart man he couldn’t put all that together. He thought it was some random guy, but then I saw the guy when I came around the corner and—”

  “You can put things together and have mad Google skills.” Eden snorted.

  “Of course. Oh my gosh, you were too scared to tell your ‘boss’ you’re Lulu,” Jess said hooking air quotes with her fingers. “This is crazy. You know that, right?”

  Eden didn’t know whether to be pleased she could talk about the predicament she’d landed herself in or whether she was annoyed at Jess for finding such glee in the weird situation. “Okay, yeah, he doesn’t know Lulu LaRue is his nanny.”

  “How does he not know, and how did this even happen? Jeez, it’s like a soap opera,” Jess said, plopping onto the chair Eden used when Lisa did her makeup. “And hurry up. We have reservations.”

  “Heil, Hitler,” Eden breathed as she unbuckled her tap shoes.

  Jess ignored the insult. “So spill already.”

  “Nick came to Gatsby’s a few nights ago with a friend. He’s trying to date more. Or that’s what he told me. I didn’t know he was here until I plopped into his lap. I was doing the ‘Big Spender’ number, and I go out in the audience a lot,” she explained while she tugged off her shoes. “When I realized it was him, I knew I was sunk.”

  “Why? What would he care you’re a performer?”

  “He wouldn’t. I don’t think. It’s just I was vague about my second job.”

  “Why?”

  Eden wriggled out of the tight costume. “I don’t know.”

  “E, why would you be ashamed of this? They’re doing articles on you. You’re packing them in. You have an agent, for God’s sake.”

  “I know.” But still there was the viscous shame that twisted inside her. Her mother had been a stripper. She didn’t even know who her father was. White trash. Voorhees trash. Using her body to make a buck.

  “Is this about your mother?”

  “It’s always about my mother, isn’t it? And the fact I lived in a falling-down house, used food stamps, and took odd jobs so I could pay for my prom dress. This world isn’t far from that, Jess. Right? I’m still shaking my ass to pay my bills.”

  Jess stood. “Okay, last year you gave me a good talking-to when I wasn’t thinking straight, remember? So let me do the same.”

  Eden shook her head. “You don’t have to. Look, deep down I know I’m not my mother, but I carry my past with me. I can’t seem to let go of the stupid thought that I’m somehow less. It’s pathetic and maddening. Maybe one day when I have enough, when I’m not rubbing nickels together to pay the light bill, I’ll feel different. If I could afford a therapist, I’d have one.”

  Jess took her by the shoulders. “Eden.”

  “What?” Eden tried to stop the tears forming in her eyes. She hated tears. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”

  “Stop. Just stop. You’re one of the most incredible women I know. There’s nothing trashy or low class about you. Not even when you’re shaking your hind end. So suck it up, buttercup, and stop being down on yourself.”

  “I’m not having a pity party. You’re just one of the people I can be real with, okay?”

  Jess wrapped Eden in her arms. Eden’s first inclination was to stiffen, but then she relaxed into her friend’s embrace. “Your hair smells like apples.”

  Jess laughed. “Eden, you’re like that dog that wandered up on my pop-pop’s farm. Took almost a year before we could pet her. She was tough, cautious, and the best dog he ever had. You’re a tough cookie, but—”

  “—the best dog you ever had?” Eden joked pulling away from her friend because it was a little awkward to be hugging her while standing in a strapless bra and a pair of Spanx knockoffs.

  “You’re avoiding the original topic of conversation. And, by the way, Nick is yowser! Hottie, hot, hot. But clueless, am I right?”

  Eden blinked back tears and gave a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t quite understand how he doesn’t see through this.” She pointed to her wig before she started pulling out the pins. “Or the glitter and red paint.”

  “Men are obtuse. I guess he wasn’t looking for you, so he didn’t see you.”

  “No, just the sexy redhead I play.”

  “Well, to be honest, I forget you’re Eden when you’re out there. You’re good, hon.”

  Eden set the wig on the form head, pulling off her hairnet and shaking her hair out. Taking a makeup wipe, she started the process of stripping away Lulu. “You know, I’m not going to protest that statement. It’s something I promised Lacy I’d stop doing.”

  “What?”

  “Stop saying I’m not good enough to make it. And since she made me promise in the letter she left me, I couldn’t really get out of it.”

  Eden glanced over at her bag where the letter Lacy had left her sat tucked away. On the day of Lacy’s funeral when she, Jess, and Rosemary had retreated to their table at the Lazy Frog Coffee and Ice Cream Shoppe, they’d each received a letter. All three had kept the contents of their individual letters private, as Lacy had intended. Eden carried hers with her because the words therein were ones she wanted to live by.

  Stop apologizing for who you are, Eden. You’ve got more talent in your pinky toe than most have in their entire bodies, and it will take you places. I know this. Don’t doubt me. So when someone says, “You were so good,” you are NOT allowed to say you weren’t or to pooh-pooh their compliment by trying to be humble. You’ve lived humble, sugar. Enough of that. So stop ducking that beautiful head. Chin up. Smile on. Accept your fate. You will be great. And, E, I really don’t want to do the whole haunting thing, but I will if I see you running from your meant-to-be. I can totally do the ghost thing. With style, baby, with style. Boo!

  “Yeah, Lacy, always liked to have the last word. And she got it.” Jess chased the sadness away with a smile. “But I agree with her on this one.”

  Eden picked up her favorite sweater and tugge
d it on. “Actually, Ryan showing up with flowers probably did what I couldn’t do.”

  “What couldn’t you do?”

  “Destroy Nick’s chances with Lulu. But I’m pretty sure Nick jumped to the conclusion Ryan was, like, my date. Your boy wonder played along nicely, so now I don’t have to worry about Nick finding out I’m Lulu. Pretty sure he won’t be back.”

  “Glad Ryan could help,” Jess said, brushing a hand over the various makeup brushes lying on the dressing table. “You sure you don’t want to tell Nick that you’re Lulu? It might get you what you want.”

  “It will get me what I don’t need and with a man who doesn’t want the real me but a fantasy.”

  Jess opened her mouth, but Eden held up a hand. “Look, I know you and Rosemary have found happily-ever-afters, but not everyone wants love. I want a career, and if I allow myself to fall in love with my boss, that would be messy. I don’t need messy right now. I need security.”

  “There can be security in love, Eden.”

  Eden pulled on her jeans and slipped into the clogs she’d bought on sale at T.J. Maxx last week—a little bonus for herself on payday. “Maybe, but I’m not ready for that kind of security. I need financial security and a career. Love can wait.”

  “Ha, you think love waits. Uh-uh, sister, it will sneak up on you and punch you in the face when you least expect it,” Jess said with a snort. “Just don’t let something pass you by because you’re stubborn.”

  “I’m not.”

  Jess cocked her head. “Wait, maybe it’s not stubbornness. Are you afraid to be in a relationship?”

  Eden jerked her head up as she shouldered her bag. “Afraid? No. But you know my past. I don’t sleep around for a reason. I don’t bounce on a happy cloud of daydreams for a reason. I also don’t step on cracks, walk under ladders, or break mirrors. My life is just that fragile. I’m on the path I need to be on. Stop trying to turn me into you or Rosemary.”

  Jess stared at her for a moment, making her feel a bit like an asshole, but Eden meant what she said. She wasn’t going to slip up, not when she barely balanced on the tightrope she currently walked. She didn’t have room for error or she’d lose every bit of momentum she’d caught hold of.