Rogue Beast (The Rourkes, Book 12) Read online

  “Whoa,” Garrett says.

  “No,” I say. “You’re young—”

  “Thirty,” Wyatt says.

  “Youngish,” I amend. “You have years to be a contributing member of society.”

  “I contribute. I’m here, aren’t I?” He gestures around the room. “I’m a philanthropist.”

  “How did you make billions?” Garrett asks.

  I’m curious too, but I was taught never to speak about money. I let my agent handle that.

  Wyatt shakes out the cloth napkin folded like a swan and sets it on his lap. “I created a virtual reality system that a certain social media company was willing to pay handsomely for. And I created and sold a few other startup tech companies before that. Made my first million at nineteen.”

  Garrett stares at him, speechless.

  To my thinking that means Wyatt’s capable of more. He’s an innovator.

  “You have to do something,” I say. “No one can be happy going aimlessly through life and showing up at the occasional fundraiser.”

  A waiter arrives offering a tray of champagne. I take one. Wyatt and Garrett decline.

  I sip my champagne and look at Wyatt expectantly.

  He pulls at his collar. “Worse than my sisters with your tough judgey looks.”

  Garrett does a double take. “What are ya talking about, tough? She’s got a face like one of these goddess statues.” He gestures to the sculptures surrounding us.

  My heart squeezes. I’ve never been compared to a goddess. “Thank you,” I say softly.

  Garrett jerks his chin like of course. He seems a little offended on my behalf.

  Wyatt leans back in his seat, resting his palms on the table. “I just want to lie low in some dinky town no one’s ever heard of and chill. Maybe I’ll anonymously donate to help the community where I hide out with a library annex or something like Garrett here does, but otherwise—” he gestures with one hand “—chill.”

  I consider that. My hometown is a dinky place no one’s ever heard of, and it could use some philanthropic donations for the budget gaps. The older hippie generation that founded the town has mostly left, and they could use fresh blood. Someone like Wyatt, an innovative thinker, could help the town thrive. Of course he’d get sucked in. Impossible not to in a town with everyone in everyone else’s business. It was a refuge for me to have a community that cared. I donate every year to support the school’s arts program, a special place where I discovered theater for the first time.

  “Write this down,” I tell Wyatt.

  He takes an imaginary pencil from behind his ear, wets the tip with his tongue, and pretends to be ready to write on nonexistent paper.

  I laugh. “Seriously. Get out your phone and take note. Summerdale, New York. A little over an hour from here in the suburbs. No one’s ever heard of it. The people are a little quirky, but if you can deal with a postman who likes to deliver tamales with the mail or a café owner named Rainbow, it’s perfect for you.”

  Wyatt pulls out his phone and dutifully types it in. “Yes, ma’am. My new hideaway.” He brightens. “Is there a Mexican community? I love authentic Mexican food, the spicier the better.”

  “No. Bill’s white. He’s just a big fan of tamales.”

  “Damn.”

  “They’re really good tamales, though.”

  Garrett nudges my arm. “I know Summerdale. My family goes there every Labor Day weekend. We rent a house by the lake.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up. So weird that Garrett’s family goes there. I mean, there’s always some houses for rent by the lake, but it’s not exactly a hot spot. And how did a guy from Brooklyn find it?

  Wyatt puts his phone facedown and sends me an aggrieved look. “Garrett here heard of it. Sounds like the secret’s out on Summerdale.”

  “It’s really not popular at all,” I say, truly surprised by the Garrett connection. “How did you end up renting a lake house there?”

  Garrett cocks his head. “Funny connection, right? It started with my brother Jack. He rented it as a prank, pretending he’d bought his girlfriend a house, and then turned it into a proposal in front of the whole family.”

  I stare at him, jaw dropped. “A prank proposal?”

  “I like your family,” Wyatt says. “Brilliant.”

  Garret smiles. “I could ask Jack how he found Summerdale if you want. He probably just searched the internet for a nice house to rent that would fit all of us and be far enough away from the city to surprise his girlfriend, but not too far that it would be hard for the rest of us to get there. Jack’s king of the pranksters. He’ll put a lot of thought into planning out the perfect one.”

  I’m still stuck on the reason for the rental. “A prank proposal? Did she say yes?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, she did. They prank each other. Now they’re happily married with a baby on the way.”

  “And your family keeps going back to Summerdale?” I ask.

  “Yeah, Jack wanted to keep up the tradition to remember the happy occasion, so now we spend every Labor Day there.”

  “Which house do you rent?”

  He shrugs. “Jack handles all that. I don’t keep track of the address. This last time we rented a different house with a large second-floor deck overlooking the lake.” He turns to Wyatt. “Worth a trip out there to check it out. Lots of trees, the lake, of course, houses tucked away around the lake and up the hill. There’s this one huge house at the top of the hill and, for some reason, there’s a lighthouse on the property. Right in the middle of open land.”

  “Obviously it’s for the giant ships approaching by lake,” Wyatt says.

  I shake my head. “The lake can only accommodate rowboats and canoes. It’s not that big.”

  Garrett squeezes my shoulder, sending a rush of heat through me. The amused look in his eyes tells me Wyatt was joking. I’m not used to so much joking around.

  I continue sharing about my hometown in the hopes that Wyatt will be intrigued. “An eccentric recluse used to live at the top of the hill. He died before I was born, and nobody bought the property. People say it’s haunted. I’m sure it’s just overrun by raccoons and other critters, but it always gave me a creepy feeling.”

  Wyatt wiggles his fingers. “Ooh, sounds like a Scooby-Doo episode with old man Jenkins.”

  “Zoinks!” Josie exclaims, popping up suddenly and putting her arms around Wyatt and Garrett. “You two planning on solving a mystery?”

  “Yeah, the mystery of the landlocked lighthouse,” Wyatt says.

  “Oh, are you talking about Summerdale?” Josie asks. “We were there a few weeks ago for my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding reenactment. Love it there.”

  “Wedding reenactment?” I echo.

  “This family is nuts,” Josie says happily. “I fit right in.”

  Sean appears by her side, and they take their seats at the table.

  Wyatt gestures to them. “Now why couldn’t I have been born into a nutso family? I would’ve fit in so much better.”

  Sean smiles. “It can be fun and also aggravating. Everyone’s high energy and hardheaded.” He knocks on his head.

  “That’s just because of the high testosterone levels with so many men,” Josie says with a laugh. “It’s all evening out now that more women have joined the family.”

  “I’m thrilled you did,” Sean says, giving her a kiss.

  I sigh. I’ve seen Sean and Josie together these last five weeks at work, and they seem so perfect together. Always laughing, talking, and being affectionate with each other. I envy her the easy confidence and trust she has in Sean. They met before she was famous, and she knows he loves her for her, not for what he can get from her. I guess if I married my boyfriend from when I was fourteen—Levi did a fine job escorting me to the eighth-grade dance while following all the rules General Joan laid out—I could have the same. Ha. Funny but not. I don’t wish away my success, but it would be nice to be able to trust in a guy like that, knowin
g we had something real.

  I’m pulled from my angsty thoughts by Josie’s unexpected question. “Harp, you want to do our song after dinner is served? This crowd would appreciate it.”

  I freeze. Josie and I both like musicals—her voice is like a dream—and sometimes we sing “For Good” from Wicked, a beautiful song between sisters. But that’s just when we’re hanging in one of our trailers. I need to prepare for a performance. And my voice can’t come close to hers. There’s a reason I never auditioned for the New York theater scene. I love musicals, but I know I’m not at the top tier of professional singers.

  “Harp?” Josie asks, waving a hand in front of my face.

  “Maybe just you,” I say. “Your voice is so beautiful.”

  She cocks her head. “But it’s a duet. And you sound good too. It’ll be fun.”

  I lick my dry lips. “No, thanks.”

  “Come on, you’ll be great,” Josie coaxes.

  Garrett pipes up, “My friend here is a hard no on the after-dinner show tunes.”

  I turn to him, surprised he spoke on my behalf. His hand goes to my throat, his smoldering gaze sending a rush of heat from my throat all the way to my toes. “Terrible case of laryngitis.”

  I’m so enthralled I’m speechless, gazing into his eyes.

  He drops his hand. I swallow and stare at the table, shaken by how much I want him. I didn’t know how much until he touched me. What could’ve felt like a vulnerable position—his hand at my throat—turned me on. No warning sign of danger flashed through me. Only raw lust.

  “Smoking heat stole your voice,” Josie quips. “Got it. Carry on!”

  Dinner arrives, and I belatedly put my napkin in my lap in a daze.

  Garrett’s voice rumbles in my ear, sending tingles down my spine. “Okay there, lamb chop?”

  I nod woodenly, not willing to risk another look at the enticing man.

  “She means well,” he whispers.

  I turn, and we’re so close I see his eyes dilate. My voice comes out breathy. “I know.”

  “I mean well too. Just so you know.”

  My gaze drops to his sensual lips, a longing to get closer drawing me in.

  “Would you mind passing the butter?” Wyatt asks.

  Garrett straightens and passes it to him. Moment over. Was I about to kiss him at a table full of people? I know better than to add to the gossip about me and the secret prince of Brooklyn. What happened to all my good defenses? My gut check? The warning signs fizzled in the rush of lust.

  I’m in trouble.

  10

  Harper

  At the end of the night, Garrett walks me out. It’s just the two of us with Joe trailing a few feet behind. We stayed for a while, talking to Sean and Josie, so we’re one of the last to leave. The museum is quiet and nearly empty.

  “This place reminds me of Amalie Palace,” he says. That’s his family’s palace in Villroy. I may have looked into the royal stuff.

  “Do you visit often?”

  “Not a lot. The reconciliation between our families is pretty recent. I’ve been there for two weddings and the last two Christmases. They have a Regency-themed Christmas ball. You probably would like it. Kinda like a historical movie set.”

  Sign me up! I would love to visit a palace and go to a ball. “Do they regularly hold themed balls there?”

  “I dunno. They do for Christmas. It’s because of my cousin’s wife Alice. She’s a Regency romance author.”

  I suck in air. “Alice Segal?”

  “Yeah.” He shakes his head, his lips twisting into a wry smile. “She even gave us a recommended reading list, heavy on the Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice wasn’t bad, actually. I caught the movie.” At my silence, he turns to me. “Harper?”

  I shut my gaping jaw. “You’re related to the author of The Scoundrel and the Governess? The Duke’s Dare? The Viscount’s Victory? I love that trilogy, but especially the scoundrel book. Seriously, I have it in eBook, paperback, and audio, so I always have it handy for a pick-me-up.”

  He grins. “I’m sensing you’re a megafan.”

  “Uh, yeah! Wow. I can’t believe you’re related to Alice Segal. Do you think she’d sign my copy of The Scoundrel and the Governess?”

  His eyes sparkle as he takes me in. “Harper Ellis, secret romantic.”

  “I just like a happy ending.”

  He lifts his brows, his voice husky. “Who doesn’t?”

  I cock my head. Did he mean that in the happy ending way? Oh, he’s good with the double entendre. I need to be extra cautious with this guy.

  He smirks. “Now who has the connections?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “So you’re into books and music, what else? Besides me, obviously.”

  Is it that obvious?

  I fight back a blush. “There’s not a lot of time for much else between work, fitness training, and nights out like this.” It’s a necessity for me to work out. Part of the acting gig, maintaining my looks for the camera and ensuring my wardrobe fits.

  “Harper,” he drawls.

  “What?”

  “Look at me. I work and keep fit. I still have other interests.”

  I lift my chin. “Like what?”

  He gives me a slow sexy smile that makes my stomach flutter. “Like cooking. I’m an excellent chef.”

  I blink, surprised. Looking at this beast of a man with his hard square jaw and massive biceps, the last thing I thought he’d say was that he could cook. I expected him to say boxing or pounding nails. Something macho like that.

  “You don’t believe me?” he asks.

  I recover myself. “No, I do. That’s great. I don’t enjoy cooking, so it’s hard for me to wrap my head around.” Good save.

  “You’d like my cooking. Stop by my place for dinner sometime.”

  “It’d be easier if you came to my place. I mean, security wise.” Wait, did I just invite him over?

  “No problem. Just tell me when.”

  I swallow hard, suddenly wary. “This is just a friends thing, right?”

  “If that’s what you want,” he says easily.

  “Is that what you want?”

  He gazes into my eyes, his voice gentle. “I want you to be comfortable.”

  I look away, checking in with my gut. I’m both nervous and excited about spending time with him. Nervous because I was just recently dumped. The last thing I need is Garrett and me blowing up in a public way. And we already did have a falling-out after our first friends date. Somehow I think he’d be insulted if I asked him to sign a nondisclosure at this point. I don’t want to be that person.

  His deep voice rumbles in my ear, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “It’s just dinner.”

  Be smart. Defenses up. Don’t be taken in by his sexy everything!

  “Okay.”

  He smiles, his aquamarine eyes warm on mine. “Great. What do you like to eat? I can make anything with a recipe on the internet.”

  “I’m flexible.”

  “I’ll make this spicy shrimp and cauliflower mash dish. You bring the beer.”

  I make a face. “Beer doesn’t go with that.”

  “Course it does.”

  “I don’t have any beer.”

  “Fine. I’ll bring the beer too. You bring your sweet self.”

  “I’m not sweet.” I was raised to be tough and strong, never soft and sweet. Chin up. I didn’t raise a wimp!

  Get out of my head, Grandmom!

  “Yeah, okay,” he says.

  “I’m not.”

  He stops walking and frowns. “I was really pissed when the paparazzi showed up on my doorstep.”

  I cringe. “I’m so sorry.”

  He slowly leans in, and my heart races. His gaze drops to my lips before he shifts to speak near my ear. “Sweet. Told ya.”

  I swallow hard. Somehow he sees past the toughness people know me for from my Amanda character, but also from the thick skin I’ve worked hard to develop. It
’s how I got through my strict upbringing, how I managed rejection after rejection, how I deal with getting fired and shows getting cancelled. Yet, deep down, I’ve always known it was a false front to protect my sensitive self. I don’t know how he saw that about me so soon. An alarm goes off in my mind. This is a man who could get in close enough to do serious damage.

  I keep walking, my mind whirling, my heart pounding.

  He shoots me an amused look. “Relax. You’re with the secret prince. What’s he been up to all these years anyway? Polishing his mountain of gold coins? Strutting around in his royal velvet cape? Bonking his brothers on the head with the royal scepter?”

  I bite back a smile. “Arrogant much?”

  “Are you saying I have a big ego?”

  “Yes!”

  “Can’t help it. It’s in my genes. All the men in my family do.”

  “Sean doesn’t seem that way.”

  “Sean is the worst! My God, it’s like you can barely breathe with all the hot air he’s putting out in the room.”

  I stifle a laugh as Sean comes up behind him. “What else does he do?”

  “Back in the day, he’d strut around with his tool belt like he was the man, ya know?” He straightens at my amused look. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

  I nod.

  He turns. “Hey, Sean, just singing your praises.”

  “Nice save, jackass.”

  He looks around. “Did Jack show up to this thing too?”

  Sean claps a hand on his shoulder and turns to me. “Jack’s our brother. This guy bothering you?”

  “Little bit,” I say.

  “Hey!” Garrett protests. “I’m her friend date. That is an official title granted by her. How could I be bothering her when she bestowed the honor herself?”

  Sean grins. “Indeed.”

  Garrett points to Sean. “Indeed!”

  I lift my palms, laughing. “Okay, okay. You’re both ridiculous. Is this how they talk in Villroy?”

  “More like—” Garrett shakes out his shoulders and stands like he has a stick up his ass. “By order of the king, this date is official.”

  “Smooth,” Sean mutters.

  “And you’re the king?” I ask.

  One corner of his mouth curves up in an endearing smile. “Well, you wouldn’t call me lamb chop.”