Dirty Letters by Vi Keeland

CHAPTER 13

LUCA

“Mirada? Mirada! I couldn’t come up with anything better than the brand name of the RV we’re driving?”

“That was an interesting choice.” Doc chuckled.

“I freaked out and glanced over at the dash, and that was all that came out.”

“I have to say I was very curious as to how you were going to handle that whole situation.”

“I didn’t handle it. I completely made a mess of things for myself. Thanks for accepting his date offer, by the way. It would have been nice if I’d had a choice.”

“You don’t have a choice, Luca. You must face the music.”

“I never thought the music would end up being literal.” I sighed. “Seriously, how am I going to handle this, Doc? He’s going to think I’m a nutjob for following him here and lying about my identity.”

“You’re not the only one who lied. His was a lie of omission.”

“Am I really doing this? Having dinner with him?”

“Yes.”

“What do I say?”

“He’s giving you the chance to say anything you need to. The fact that he came back here and invited you into his home saves you the trouble of having to figure out how to get him alone. He’s handed the opportunity to you on a silver platter. Now it’s up to you to decide what to do with it.”

An hour later, I was dressed in the only nice outfit I’d packed—a simple red sheath dress. I hadn’t exactly planned on going to dinner with a celebrity in his fancy mansion while out here stalking Griffin. I most definitely hadn’t expected Griffin to be that celebrity.

With wobbly legs, I made my way over to his massive house.

I spoke to the guard. “Hi . . .” Jesus, I nearly forgot my supposed name. “Mirada here to see Cole Archer.”

“Yes. He’s expecting you.” He directed me to head to the front entrance.

As I continued toward the door, I wondered what “Cole” wanted with me anyway. Griffin didn’t know my identity. He thought he was inviting a random woman for dinner. Did he do this all the time? Was he attracted to me? Or was he just being hospitable? I couldn’t figure out why he’d invited me here. Before I was able to ponder it much, the gigantic wooden door to the Spanish-style house opened. A short woman dressed in housekeeper’s garb nodded at me as she let me in.

Griffin was nowhere to be found. My heels echoed against the marble floors as I looked around the impressive foyer. Some framed vinyl records adorned the walls. This was definitely what I’d imagined a rock star’s house to look like.

All I could think right now was I’m so proud of you, Griffin.

His voice startled me. “The record label sends those to me. Might as well hang them up. I’m really not an egomaniac. I swear.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all. You should be proud. You’ve really done well.”

When I turned to look at him, I noticed he’d changed into sleek black pants and a fitted gray T-shirt. His hair was wet. He was seriously hot as fuck. I couldn’t believe this was my Griffin.

“Depends on how you define done well. I’ve definitely accumulated wealth and managed to impress a certain percentage of people with my music. But it can be hard sometimes. It can be a very lonely life.”

That tugged at my heartstrings. “Yeah. I can imagine.”

“Can I get you something to drink, Mirada?”

“Sure. Anything is fine.”

“I have a bar bigger than Cheers. What suits your fancy?”

“A glass of wine would be nice.”

Griffin led me into the massive living room. All the furniture was white. I just knew I was going to dirty it somehow before I left. He ventured over to the large bar in the corner of the room and prepared my drink himself.

He returned and handed me a large glass of red wine. “Sorry . . . dinner is a little late. My chef is off tonight, and, well, I didn’t want to poison you with my cooking, so I’ve ordered out. Hope that’s okay.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“You don’t even know what it is yet.”

“That’s true. But I’m sure it will be good.”

“You sure have a lot of blind faith in me.”

What did he just say?

Blind faith?

He must just use that term freely. I wouldn’t read into it.

I cleared my throat. “Apparently.”

He clapped his hands together. “So . . . dinner. Hope you like scallops wrapped in bacon? I’ve chosen that for an appetizer. Then garlic pork roast with thyme for the main course.”

Pork? Is he kidding?

I swallowed. “Sounds delicious.”

He squinted at me. “You look so familiar. Are you sure we haven’t met?”

Nervously twirling my hair, I laughed. “What do you take me for, a groupie?”

“Ha! No, no, no. I just felt this familiarity from the moment I met you.” His eyes were searing into mine.

I was seriously starting to burn up from the intensity of his stare.

Can he possibly know it’s me? How?

My plan was to tell him the truth, but the longer this charade went on, the harder it was to blurt it out for some reason. I kept waiting for the perfect window to confess, but it never seemed to come. Not to mention, his penetrating stare sort of left me speechless.

“Who is that man you’re traveling with?” he asked.

“He’s a good friend.”

“So no funny business going on there?”

“Gosh, no. He’s only my traveling companion. I don’t travel alone.”

“Ah. Gotcha. Yeah, traveling alone is for the birds.”

Birds.

“Right.”

He smiled. “So did you recognize me? You didn’t seem like you did.”

My heart was beating out of my chest. “You mean . . . did I know you were . . . Cole Archer?”

Griffin tilted his head. “What else would I mean?”

I blew out a relieved breath. “I did actually know who you are, yes.”

“That sucks. I was kind of hoping you didn’t.”

I looked deeply into his eyes. “It must be crazy, huh? Being you?”

“Yes, but what in particular do you mean?”

“Everything?”

He just looked at me for a while before he answered. “Sometimes I just wish I could hide in my house and never come out.”

Sounds familiar.

My heart beat faster.

He continued. “I envy people who aren’t recognized everywhere they go.”

“I can imagine.”

“What is it that you do, Mirada?”

What do I do?

“I . . . A little bit of everything. Sort of at a crossroads right now.”

“Why are you hiding it? If I can be forthright, certainly you can as well. What, do you . . . write porn or something?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Too bad.” He winked.

Suddenly, the housekeeper led a bunch of people through the living room into the adjacent dining room.

“Ah. Dinner’s here,” Griffin said.

I put my wine down on an end table and followed him into the dining area. A full staff of people were setting up a grand table. One gentleman carried a gigantic covered silver platter.

“This looks like a meal fit for a king,” I said.

When the man took the top off the platter, my stomach sank. It wasn’t just pork but an entire pig with the head still on it. I looked away. I couldn’t stomach it. It was like watching Hortencia burned at the stake and laid out at her funeral.

Griffin’s eyes were practically bugging out of his head. His cool stance was no longer. He turned to the man. “What the fuck! I ordered the pork, not an entire animal. What the hell are you bringing into my house? It’s disturbing. Please cover it up and take it back.”

The man hurriedly did as he said but asked, “What did you think pork was, sir?”

“I get what you’re saying, but there’s no need to see my dinner staring back at me.” He looked over at me. “Clearly you can see my guest is extremely upset.”

I was shaking. Honestly, I didn’t even know what to say anymore.

After the room emptied out, Griffin rushed over to me. “Are you okay?”

“That was . . . that was unexpected.”

“Fuck. I was just having a little fun in ordering the pork. I knew you wouldn’t eat it. I would never have done that to you on purpose. I know how much she means to you.”

Wait.

What?

What’s happening?

He placed his hands around my face. “You look like you’re about to cry. I’ve fucked this all up. I would never want to hurt you like that. You mean so fucking much to me.” He backed me up against the wall, pressing his rock-hard body against mine. “Luca . . . my beautiful Luca.”

My voice was shaky. “Griffin?”

“How did you find me, my impulsive girl?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that yet.”

He leaned in and smashed his lips against mine, kissing me so hard, I was practically seeing stars. My entire body felt weightless as I melted into him, our tongues colliding in a wet and delicious frenzy as we made up for years of lost kisses.

“Goddamn, Luca, you taste so good,” he muttered over my lips. “I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

Raking my fingers in his lustrous hair, I couldn’t help the sounds that were coming out of my mouth. No one had ever kissed me the way Griffin Marchese was doing right now. Breathing him in like this was everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Our kiss was interrupted when the housekeeper entered carrying three large pizza boxes.

Feeling like an animal in heat, I panted and asked, “What’s that?”

“Our real dinner. Pineapple pizza—your favorite.”

A feeling of nostalgia warmed over me. “You remembered.”

“How could I forget? I remember everything, Luca.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

I blinked a few times and my vision came back into focus. I’d been staring down at a slice of pineapple pizza and when I looked up, I found Griffin watching me. I’d heard him speak, but the words seemed to have swooped in one ear and bolted out the other. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He stood. We’d been sitting across from each other at the dining room table. Today had been surreal—from finding out Griffin was Cole Archer, to seeing him for the first time after all these years, to that kiss. That kiss. Griffin extended his hand. “Come on. You have too much on your mind to eat right now. Why don’t we go sit in the living room and talk?”

I nodded and put my hand in his. He led me over to the massive sectional, and when I sat, he knelt down in front of me and slipped off my heels one at a time. “I’m taking these off so that you’re comfortable, but I also have an ulterior motive. I’m going to get us some more wine from the kitchen, and I’m going to keep one of these with me so you can’t bolt out the door while I’m gone for two minutes.”

I thought he was joking, but he actually took one of my shoes with him. He returned a few minutes later carrying two fresh glasses of wine and my high heel.

“Nottingham Cellars cab.” Griff extended a glass of my favorite wine. The thing was full to the brim. “I wasn’t sure what year you liked so I got a few different ones. This is the 2014. Which do you usually buy?”

“Um. Whichever one is the cheapest.”

“Shit. I went in the other direction.”

I smiled. “It’s fine. I’m not really a wine aficionado, so I doubt I’d be able to tell one year from the next.”

Griffin sat down on the couch next to me and pulled one knee up, turning to face me. He looked completely at ease, whereas I was concentrating hard to keep my hand from shaking. I really didn’t want to slosh red wine all over his white furniture. He noticed and put a hand on my knee. “Relax. I’m not going to bite.” An adorable boyish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Unless you want me to.”

I gulped down half the glass of wine.

Griffin arched a brow. “Feel better?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

He slipped the glass from my hands and set it down on the coffee table, along with his untouched one. Then he took both my hands into his and looked back and forth between my eyes. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

Heat crept up my cheeks. “Thank you. I can’t believe you even recognized me. How old was I in the one photo you’ve seen of me? Twelve?”

Griffin looked down at our joined hands and squeezed. “I think we both have a lot to come clean about. So I’m going to start right now. I didn’t recognize you from the picture that you’d sent me in middle school. I hired a private investigator to follow you and take some photos of you.”

My eyes bulged from my head. “You what? When?”

“A few weeks ago. He took some pictures of you coming out of the post office. And then . . . he followed you across the country over the last week.”

Not knowing someone had been watching me made me suddenly feel very violated. I pulled my hands from his. “Why would you do that?”

Griffin raked his hands through his hair. “I wanted to see what you looked like.”

“I asked you to exchange photos. You were the one who said you didn’t want to.”

“I wanted to see you. I just didn’t want you to see me. But I guess you knew who I was all along, so the joke was on me anyway.”

My brows drew down. “What are you talking about? I only found out this morning who you are.”

He looked genuinely confused. “Then how did you happen to arrive on my block?”

“You left an eBay receipt in the bottom of the box of Furbys you sent me. It had a shipping address of Marchese Music. I figured that was where you worked.”

Griffin shook his head. “But if you didn’t know who I was, why did you drive all the way across the country?”

The fact that he’d even had to ask that question told me so much. This beautiful man with this big, beautiful house thought people were attracted to him for his fortune and fame. This time, it was me who did the assuring. I reached out and took his hand in mine, looking into his eyes as I spoke. “Because I had a crush on the boy who wrote me letters all those years ago, but I started to fall for the sweet man who seemed to like me for who I am—broken or not—and I needed to see if maybe we could have a chance if we met in person finally.”

Griffin leaned in a little closer. His eyes jumped back and forth between mine, searching for something. “You really had no idea who I was until this morning?”

I half smiled. “I hate to bruise your ego, Mr. Rock Star, but not only did I have no idea who you are, I’d never even listened to your music.”

Even though I’d just insulted him, Griffin smiled like my answer was the best thing he’d ever heard. His eyes lit up. “What if you came all the way out here, and I was homeless, bald, and had a few missing teeth?”

I covered my mouth and laughed. “That’s pretty much what I was expecting. You said your career choices had cost you more than you anticipated. So I thought maybe you were poor and ashamed about it.”

Griffin looked bewildered. He squinted. “And yet you drove three thousand miles anyway?”

I shrugged. “I liked you for you. I was willing to accept whatever your situation was. But don’t get me wrong. The fact that you look”—I waved my hand at his face—“like this . . . is a very nice surprise.”

Griffin wrapped his hands around the backs of my knees and tugged me closer to him. “Oh yeah? Are you saying you like the way I look, babe?”

Babe.I definitely liked that. I tried not to smile but failed miserably. “I guess you’re not so hard on the eyes.”

He cupped my cheek. “Is that so? Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” His eyes fell to my lips and he rubbed his thumb over my bottom one. “This pouty mouth. I spent hours staring at it as a teenager. You don’t even want to know all the things I used to fantasize about doing to it.”

I swallowed. “Yes, I do.”

Griffin’s eyes darkened, and he pushed his thumb into my mouth. Without giving it any thought, I swirled my tongue around it and then closed my eyes before sucking hard.

“Fuck, Luca.” The hoarse rumble of his groan sent shivers across my skin. Suddenly, I was lifted from my seat and was being hauled across Griffin’s lap. He wound his hands into my hair, his lips sealed over mine, and his tongue replaced his finger inside my mouth. I’d thought our first kiss was electric, but this one, it made my body feel like a live wire. His lips were so soft, but his touch was so firm. This was a man who knew how to kiss. I was pretty sure I’d spend hours analyzing that fact later, but in the moment I didn’t care how he’d gotten good at it, only that his expert tongue was inside my mouth, and it felt like damn heaven. He kissed me long and hard, with just the right amount of aggressiveness to make me let him take the lead and follow him anywhere.

I distantly registered a sound, but the roar of the blood rushing through my ears made everything else seem so far away and faded. Which was why, at first, I didn’t realize the noise I heard was a doorbell ringing. Until it rang a second time. “That’s the . . .” I tried to speak between our joined lips, but Griffin pressed his harder to mine.

“Ignore it . . . ,” he mumbled.

Since I wasn’t anxious to stop, I pretended I hadn’t heard it. But when the bell rang a third time, it was Griffin who pulled back.

He stumbled to his feet, panting. Dazed at the sudden change in what was happening, I lifted my hand to cover my bruised lips. “I thought . . .”

That was when I heard what had made Griffin stop. Unfortunately, it was the voice of the one person I couldn’t ignore.

Doc.