Hot Docs On Call: Tinseltown Cinderella. Lynne Marshall

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Hot Docs On Call: Tinseltown Cinderella - Lynne Marshall Mills & Boon M&B

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night she’d said a real zinger, not realizing it, of course, but nevertheless her comment had hit hard. When she’d talked about her ex being insecure about his masculinity to the point of taking over her life, it had made Joe cringe. He could relate, especially since getting the lab results about him being sterile, and following up later with a urologist as to the reasons why. Was that part of him wanting to protect Carey? Was it some twisted way of making himself feel like a complete man again?

      “And you said you have a voucher for the rent here for the next month?” Carey asked.

      Mrs. Adams, a tiny African-American woman with short tight curls and wearing a bright red blouse, looked serious. “Yes, we can also provide food stamps and you can move in now or this weekend if you’d like.”

      Carey was about to say something, and damn it to hell if it meant he was waving around his insecure masculinity or whatever, Joe couldn’t let this fiasco continue another second. “What’s the crime rate in this neighborhood?” he butted in.

      An eyebrow shot up on Mrs. Adams’s forehead. Was she not used to being asked that question by people desperate enough to need county social services assistance? “I honestly don’t know. It’s a busy neighborhood. There’s a church right up the street, a hospital down on Sunset. There’s a small family-run market on Hollywood Boulevard and the apartment building is really well situated for all of her needs.”

      Carey stood still, only her eyes moved to watch him. Was it trust or fear he saw there? Was his being concerned coming off as overbearing? He hoped she saw it a different way, the way he’d intended, that he was worried for her safety. He subtly shook his head but she quickly glanced back at Mrs. Adams. “Thank you so much for showing me this place. Do I have to sign anything?”

      Joe understood she’d been trying to be a good soldier, stiffening her lip and all, but all it had done was turn her to cardboard. She obviously wanted to make the offer from social services work out, but Joe strongly suspected that in her heart she was scared. And he was pretty sure he saw it in her eyes, too. Those lush meadow-green eyes seemed ready for a storm. How could she not be afraid? Now that he’d identified what was going on with her, he could practically smell that fear. He just hoped it wasn’t directed toward him.

      She didn’t belong here. She belonged with him. Safe. Protected. That’s all there was to it. Was he being crazy, like Ross? With all his heart he hoped not, but right at this moment it was hard to evaluate his motives because the lines had blurred and there was no way in hell he’d let this happen.

      Joe stepped forward, unable to let the scene play out another moment. He reached for and gently held Carey’s upper arm, pleading with his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t see a crazed, insecure man. He fought to keep every ounce of emotion out of his voice. “Stay with me.” Making the comment a simple suggestion. Then he stumbled, letting a drop of intensity slip back in. “Please.”

      * * *

      Carey hadn’t given in, though she’d wanted to. Mrs. Adams had gone on alert when Joe had taken her arm in his hand. The poor woman had probably thought he was the guy she needed to get away from. Carey had made sure she knew otherwise. No, Joe wasn’t scary, but he had a rescue complex and she needed to help him get over it.

      They drove back toward West Hollywood mostly in silence. True, the last thing she wanted was to move into such a depressing place, but rather than cave just because Joe wanted her to she’d asked Mrs. Adams to give her twenty-four hours to make her decision. It had also seemed to calm the woman’s sudden uneasy demeanor over the battle of wills between Carey and Joe about moving.

      And this had been where Joe had proved he was nothing like Ultimatum Ross. Trusting her decision, he’d agreed that was a smart idea, and Mrs. Adams had smiled again. Inside, so had Carey.

      The man was too good to be true, and she couldn’t trust her instinct to believe he was what he was, a great guy! She’d thought she’d fallen for a great guy back home, a man who’d gone out of his way to charm her and make her laugh, and above all who’d wanted to take care of her. Look where that had led. But the last two weeks of living with Joe had been little short of perfection. He was patient and friendly, didn’t have mood swings, like Ross, had just mostly kept his distance. Sometimes that had been maddening. Joe was tidy and helpful and—oh, she’d tried long enough to avoid the next thought—sexy as hell! The male pheromones buzzing through that house had awakened something she’d tried to put on hold since long before she’d gotten pregnant. Desire.

      When she’d taken off her blindfold and finally seen who Ross truly was, she hadn’t wanted to be engaged to him anymore. But he was such a manipulating and suspicious guy that she’d pretended to be sexually interested just enough to keep him off the scent. She’d intended to leave him. Had made plans for it, too. Then the unthinkable had happened and she’d gotten pregnant. The only thing she could figure was she’d missed a birth-control pill. Ross had hated hearing that excuse, and he’d accused her of wanting to ruin everything they’d had together. He’d even accused her of being unfaithful.

      And he’d gotten violent.

      How could she ever trust her instinct where men were concerned?

      She needed Joe to open up to make sure he wasn’t hiding something awful. Maybe she could use him wanting to rescue her all the time as a bargaining chip to get him to share something personal. She’d been kind of forced to tell him about Ross, what with her bruises and black eye and being pregnant and running away. But her attempt to get him to tell her about his failed marriage Saturday night had fallen flat. Maybe his divorce still hurt too much.

      “If you expect me to continue to live with you, we have to actually be friends, not just say we are.”

      “Of course we’re friends.” He kept his eyes on the road.

      “No, we’re not. I’ve shared some very personal stuff with you, and yet you’re nothing but a mystery to me. Friends know things about each other.”

      “What do you want to know?” He sounded frustrated.

      “Why did your wife leave you? What happened? What broke up your marriage?”

      He braked a little too hard for the red light, then stared straight ahead for a couple of moments. “If you’re thinking I was a player you’d be wrong. In our case it was the other way around.”

      Carey nearly gulped in her shock. What woman in her right mind would be unfaithful to a guy like Joe? What in the world was she supposed to say to that? “She left you for another man?” She admitted she sounded a little dumbstruck.

      “As opposed to a woman?” He gave an ironic laugh and glanced at her with challenge in his eyes. “I guess that might have hurt even more, but yes to your question. It was another man.” He could have been testifying in court by his businesslike manner. Just the facts, ma’am.

      So Joe was one of the walking wounded, like her. “I’m so sorry.” It was probably a lot easier for him to assign himself the role of protector than to open the door to getting involved with another woman. Especially a vulnerable person like her. Joe had proved to be wise on top of all his other wonderful assets.

      Though she knew without a doubt what had gone down today, looking at the apartment, was on a completely different level. Joe had asked her to stay. She’d seen from that touch of desperation in his eyes that he’d meant it, too. She didn’t have a clue if once upon a time he’d asked his wife to stay and she’d left anyway, but right at this instant Carey made a decision.

      No

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