Moonlight Beach Bachelors - Charlene Sands Mills & Boon By Request

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odd. She usually texts me if she needs me for something after hours. Excuse me a second.”

      “Hi,” he said. “What’s up?”

      “Zane, s-something terrible’s h-happened.” Sobs came through the phone, Mariah’s voice frantic and unsteady. Zane froze, those words instilling fear and flashing a bad memory. “My mother had a stroke. It’s pretty b-bad.”

      “Oh, man. Sorry to hear that, Mariah.”

      “I have to fly home right away. Th-they don’t know...oh, Zane...she’s so young. Only sixty-four. She never had health problems before. Oh, God.”

      “Mariah, you just do what you have to do. Don’t worry about a thing.” Her voice broke down, her sobs growing louder. “Where are you?”

      “At Patty’s h-house in Santa Monica.” She shared a place temporarily with an old college roommate. The situation was perfect while he was staying on Moonlight Beach. She was close by without living under his roof.

      “Pack up a few things and try to stay calm. Do you have a flight?”

      “Patty got me on a midnight flight to Miami.”

      “Okay...I’ll send a car for you in an hour. Hang in there, Mariah.”

      “It’s okay, Zane. I a-appreciate it, but Patty offered to d-drive me. I’ll be fine.” A deep, sorrowful sigh whispered through the phone. “Are you going to be all right? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

      “Don’t worry about me.” He stared at Jessica. Her eyes were softly sympathetic and kind. “Take all the time you need. And call if there’s any way I can help, okay?”

      “Okay. Thanks. Goodbye, Zane.”

      Zane hung up the phone. “Man, that’s rough. Mariah’s mother had a stroke. She’s on her way to Florida now.”

      “Gosh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it serious?”

      “Seems that way.” He ran a hand down his face, pulling the skin taut. “I’ve never heard her so unraveled before. She may be gone a long time.”

      “I would think so. Will you find a replacement for her?”

      Zane wasn’t thinking along those lines. Not yet. He kept hearing the disbelief and pain in Mariah’s voice and understood it all too well.

       Your wife didn’t make it, Zane.

      Didn’t make what? he’d asked the doctor over and over, screaming into the phone. Then, all the way home from London, he kept thinking, hoping, praying it had been a mistake. A horrible, sick mistake. It wasn’t until he saw the desolate ruins of his once proud home in Beckon that it finally sank in Janie was gone. Forever.

      The meal was served, and as his gaze landed on the plate of saucy cheese-topped tamales, blood drained from his face, and his gut rebelled. For Jessica’s sake, he pushed his haunting memories aside. He didn’t want to ruin her meal.

      Jessica reached for him across the table, her fingertips feathering over his good hand gently, comforting him with the slightest touch. When he lifted his lids, he gazed into her knowing, sensitive eyes, and she smiled. “Let’s have them pack up this food. We’ll eat it later on.”

      “Do you mind?” he asked.

      “Not at all. I’m ready to go anytime you are.”

      He felt at peace suddenly, a glowing warmth usurping the dread inside his gut.

      And then it hit him. Sweet Jess. She was good for him. She understood him, perhaps better than anyone else on this earth. She was a true friend, an authentic reminder of home, and he needed her here.

      “You asked me before if I’d find a replacement for Mariah.”

      “Yes, I did. Hard shoes to fill, I would imagine.”

      “Yeah, I agree.” He looked her squarely in the eyes. “Except I’ve already found someone, and I’m looking straight at her.”

       Four

      Jessica woke to a glorious sunrise, the stream of light cutting through early morning haze and clouds in a host of color. Every morning brought something new from the view outside her bedroom window, and she was beginning to enjoy the variance from fog to haze to brilliance that took place before her eyes.

      She stretched her arms above her head, working out the kinks, not so much in her shoulders and neck, but the ones baffling her brain. Last night, Zane told her to keep an open mind and sleep on his suggestion of replacing Mariah as his personal assistant. Her mouth had dropped open, and she thought him insane for a few seconds, but then he pointed out that he wasn’t working, he had no gigs lined up, and he wasn’t doing interviews right now. Most of what she had to do was hold off the press and postpone anything pending to future dates.

      She wouldn’t go into it cold. Mariah would be in touch to give her the guidance she needed to get her through anything remotely difficult.

      “You’re an intelligent woman, Jess. I’m convinced you’d have no problem, and I’m right here to help you,” he’d said.

      Zane’s assurances last night gave her the push over the edge she’d needed this morning. Her head was clear now, and she valued the challenge and even looked forward to it. She wasn’t ready to return to Texas anyway. Zane wanted freedom from his agent and manager’s constant urging to get back on the horse. Zane wasn’t ready yet and she could understand that. He needed more time, just as she did.

      The new, bronzer Jessica no longer had freckles on her nose, thanks to a wonderful suntan that had connected those freckly dots and browned up her light skin. How many more hours could she feasibly sunbathe her day away? Staying on for a few weeks and helping Zane out would give her a new sense of purpose.

      Jessica showered and dressed quickly. Putting on a pair of khaki shorts and a loose mocha-brown blouse, she slipped her feet into flip-flops and strode toward the kitchen. There were no wickedly delicious aromas drifting from the kitchen this morning. Mrs. Lopez had yet to arrive.

      “Sonofabitch!”

      A string of Zane’s profanities carried to her ears. She grinned. Poor guy. He hated being confined.

      She ventured into his bedroom. “Zane?”

      “In here!”

      She followed the sound of his cursing. He was standing over the bathroom sink, and their eyes met in the mirror. A scowl marred his handsome face, and three blood dots covered with bits of tissue spotted his cheeks and chin. Remnants of lime-scented shaving cream covered the rest of his face. “Damn hand. It’s impossible to get a good shave.”

      “Whoops.” With her index finger, she caught a drop of blood dripping from his chin before it landed on his white ribbed tank. “Got it.”

      He peered at her in the mirror and handed her a tissue. “Thanks.”

      “Thank me later, after I shave you. We’ll see if I can’t do a better job.”

      “You?”

      “I used to lather up my dad and shave him when I was a kid.” She hoisted herself up onto the marble counter to face him and picked up his razor. “It used to be a game, but darn it, I did an excellent job. Dad was surprised. Seems I’m pretty good with one of these.”

      Doubtful eyes peered at the razor in her hand.

      “What? You don’t trust me? It’s a guarantee I’d do a better job than what I see on your face now. Or, I can drive you to the local barbershop. Since I’m going to be your new personal assistant and all.”

      The scowl left his face immediately, and her heart warmed at seeing approval in his eyes. “You’ve decided, then?”

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