Playing it Kale (The McCain Saga Book 4)

  “That was the last one,” Calvin says at nine-thirty that night. “All five of them have agreed to fly out here tomorrow. You’ll have meetings with each of them. First one starts at noon, and we’ll keep moving through them throughout the day.”

  “Thank you,” I say, trying to smile like I’m excited. And I am, but it’s a nervous, like I might be sick, kind of smile.

  “No problem,” he says as he turns off the tablet and stands. “Now, I’m going to head to bed since jetlag is a bitch. I’m still on New York time. Goodnight.”

  “Night,” Kale and I call at the same time.

  Tony walks out of his bedroom the same time Calvin goes into his. “Miss Ford. Mr. McCain,” he says with a tip of his head as he walks past us and out onto the porch. He’s been napping for the past few hours so he can stay up all night to keep watch.

  “He takes his job very seriously,” I observe as he closes the front door behind him.

  “I’ll say,” Kale chuckles.

  Finally, I relax back into the couch. And into Kale, since apparently his arm was along the back of the couch when I leaned back.

  I’m about to climb away, but Kale just pulls me in tighter to his side. Taking advantage of the excuse to be touching him, I rest my head on his chest. Everything in me flutters and sparkles.

  “As crazy as the past few days have been,” I say quietly. Kale wraps his other arm around me, holding me tighter. “They’ve also been really amazing.”

  He shifts his head, so his lips are pressing into the top of my head. “Yeah, they have been.”

  But as I think back to the night of the wedding, to when I met his sister, and she said that maybe he’d be back home that night, and how he won’t be back home tonight, something sinks inside of me.

  To me, being here with him means something huge. I haven’t even dated a guy in over a year, much less run away with him to a remote island. But to Kale? This is probably just another weekend with another girl. Kale and I? We live very different lives.

  “What’s wrong?” he says quietly.

  How can he always read my thoughts?

  “Does this mean anything to you?” I ask. I hate to do it, but I also can’t hold it in. Because if I let this continue, I fear I may leave this little island with a broken heart. “I just…I don’t want to be another notch in your belt.”

  Kale pulls away from me slightly and looks in my face. There’s a bit of hurt there, but also this look that tells me I’m not the only person who’s assumed something like this.

  “Look,” he says. “I know I’ve gained a reputation as the kind to run around, but you have to remember that you can’t believe everything the press tells you. Yes, I do always find someone to keep myself occupied with. But something you should know about me: I’m terrified of being alone. I hate it. I need to be around people. And just because I find myself in the company of women most days does not mean I’m having sex with them.”

  Whoa. This is way more than I was asking for.

  But that honesty?

  “It’s not like the press makes it out to seem. I can count the number of women I’ve slept with on one hand,” he says, his eyes pleading with me to believe him.

  And this last statement? It’s a shocker.

  “I believe you can tell quickly if things are real between two people. That you can almost always tell right away if they’re worth spending time with or not. So if I can tell that I’m not going to want to spend the next year, two, ten, forever with a woman, why would I ever waste my time with more than an evening? Or a few hours?”

  Emotion stings the back of my eyes, and I’m not sure if I’m intimidated, scared, happy, or what. This is all so much.

  And all such a relief to hear.

  “That’s what I’m telling you, Whit,” he says, his eyes intense. His arms tighten around me once more. “Within sixty seconds of meeting you, I knew I was going to need more.”

  “How?” I whisper. My voice sounds strained. There’s a lump in my throat. “You’re…you. And I’m just…”

  “Stop doing that,” he says and his brow furrows. “Stop cutting yourself down. You’re something, something incredible, and everyone can see it. So, just be Whitney. Because so far, it blows me off my feet every minute I’m with you.”

  I lean in close. I can smell him, musky and heady. My eyes lock on his lips. My left hand reaches up, and hesitantly, I place it on his right cheek. There’s a change that happens in Kale’s eyes. They’re serious, and hungry, but they’re also deep.

  “I want you to kiss me,” I admit, still staring at his lips. “But if you want to, too, can we take it slow?”

  “Yeah,” he says, the smallest of smiles crossing his lips. There’s relief in it. And anticipation. “That sounds about damn perfect, angel.”

  Every hormone inside my body is begging me to rush forward and take him with vengeance, despite what I just said. But I hold back. And let Kale take the lead.

  One of his hands slips around to my back, pulling me just slightly closer. Gentle. Inviting. His other hand comes up to my jawline, just barely brushing my skin.

  And I lean in, my eyes sliding closed as everything in me goes haywire and fuzzy with pink glitter clouds. I feel his breath on my lips.

  And then his lips are on mine.

  They’re gentle and quiet. We float there for just a minute, breathing each other in and out. We’re still getting to know each other, and we’re not ready to consume one another just yet. But the past four days have brought out unexpected things in each other, things no one else would have brought out in the other.

  Needing to be closer in a heart and soul kind of way, I twist my body around, swinging one of my legs over both of his. I settle into his lap and he places a hand on both of my hips.

  It was a risky move. It could have been an invitation for him to take things so much further, my legs spread over him. But he doesn’t do more than hold my sides warmly. His lips press against mine. One little, soft kiss. Then another.

  There’s something surprisingly peaceful about kissing Kale. There are the million fireworks going off in my lower belly. But there’s also a calmness inside of me. I can’t explain it more than describing it as being washed in honey and thrown up onto a cloud. In a non-sticky gross way…

  “Do you want to come to New York with me on Thursday?” Kale whispers against my lips.

  “Really?” I ask. My lips never leave his. My hands simply come up to the back of his neck. Mostly so he can’t try to get away.

  “Yeah,” he chuckles into my mouth. It’s an amazing sensation. “You want to come?”

  The grin that grows on my face is ridiculous. “First you whisk me away to a secluded cabin and then you invite me to the other side of the continent. You know how to whisk a woman off her feet, Kale McCain.”

  “The thought of being away for a week is killing me,” he tells me as I back away to look down into his face. “I want you to come with me.”

  I rub my thumbs over his cheeks, feeling as if I’m probably glowing. “I’d love that,” I say. “I’ve never been to the east coast. But…”

  “But we’ll see how your meetings go tomorrow,” he says regretfully. “I have a feeling they’ll want to whisk you away to Los Angeles right away to meet with record labels.”

  And as much as I’ve wanted that, for so long, I almost hope it doesn’t happen. Who knows how long that will take? And how long that could keep me away from Kale.

  All it takes is a boy to derail my dreams. Even if he is the boy who set my dreams in motion. He is the boy of my dreams, after all.

  “Stay with me tonight?” I ask. My eyes search his, looking and hoping for acceptance. For him to want me as badly as I want him.

  He doesn’t answer. He simply pulls my lips back to his.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I roll over, flopping my arm over something warm and hard. My hand hits something even harder, sending out a sonorous ring. I open my eyes in confusion.

&nb
sp; My arm is across Kale’s bare chest. And my hand just hit my guitar.

  Kale squints an eye open, peering at me. A contented smile crosses his lips, and he hugs me tight to him.

  “Good morning,” he mumbles as his eyes slide closed again.

  “Morning,” I reply.

  We’re tangled in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. We had the strangest non-make out session of my life. There was endless kissing. But it was just that. Deep and soulful and life changing. And then Kale asked me to sing for him.

  So I pulled out my guitar and played him a few of my original songs. He then asked me to make up a new one for him. I’d panicked for a moment. The pressure, being on the spot. But then I remembered what he’d said to me at the wedding. That he already thought I was amazing, so I could not worry about it and just do my thing.

  It’s rough and not complete, but I came up with something short. “Angel On Your Shoulder,” is what I started calling it last night. Kale seemed to like it. He’d kissed my soul to pieces afterward.

  And then we’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

  “How’d you sleep?” I ask, pulling back to the current morning.

  “Great,” he says, and I can hear the smile on his face. “Until I was woken by this high-pitched squeak at four in the morning.”

  “What?” I ask in confusion.

  And he says nothing, just laughs, while I figure out what he’s talking about.

  “Oh my gosh,” I say in horror as I jump away from him. I turn my face away cause I know that I am beet red. “No, no way. That could not have happened or I will die.”

  Kale keeps up the humiliating laughter. I hear him shift, and then he presses a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Seriously, it was funny, and somehow, kind of cute. I’ve never heard a fart like that before.”

  “Holy crabapples,” I say, standing up, unable to get away from him fast enough. “Just stop, okay. And please hand me one of those pillows so I can suffocate myself now.”

  “Whit,” Kale laughs again. “Seriously, don’t freak out about it. Here, let me make you feel better.”

  And with that. He. Lets. One. Rip.

  “Kale!” I screech as I cover my nose and run out of the room for the bathroom. “You’re disgusting!” I slam the door behind me. And break down into laughter.

  I hear him still laughing out in the living room.

  What the hell just happened? And how do I take it all back?

  Already set to wash the events of this very short day away, I climb into the shower. I wash my hair, scrub myself down. Spend far too much time in here, because eventually the hot water runs out.

  I can’t avoid Kale and the embarrassment of what just happened all day, though, so finally, I shut the water off. The sound of music trickles into the bathroom, way too loud considering Calvin is probably still sleeping.

  When I slide back the shower curtain, I find the door to the bathroom cracked.

  And realize that I forgot to lock the door behind me.

  Frantically, I search for a towel. Only to realize that it’s disappeared.

  “Kale!” I yell in frustration. “What’d you do with my towel?!”

  About giving me a heart attack, his face appears in the crack of the door.

  “Kale!” I scream as I grab the shower curtain and yank it in front of me. But not before he has a chance to take it all in. “What are you doing?!”

  Mischievousness floods into his eyes and he opens the door just enough to dangle the towel before him. “You can only have it back if you promise not be embarrassed in front of me anymore.”

  “What?” I screech. I’m horrified that the shower curtain is only one of those ghostly white ones, and he can very much still see my naked silhouette. “Just give me the stupid towel!”

  “Nope,” he says as he shakes his head. “Not until you can wipe embarrassment from your emotional abilities. It’s just me, Whit. And you’re just you, no regrets about it.”

  “I am so going to kill you,” I say with an annoyed chuckle.

  “Fine, so long as you’re not going to be embarrassed doing it,” he says as he raises a freaking eyebrow at me.

  “Kale…” I growl.

  “Whitney…” he echoes back to me with a smug look.

  “Fine,” I say, my expression growing serious and annoyed. “You want a lack of embarrassment, here you go.”

  And then I fling back the shower curtain, spring from the shower/tub, and bust an off-beat move to the music playing. Right there. In the bathroom. Totally naked.

  “No embarrassment, Kale!” I yell, even as every last inch of me turns blush red.

  “Holy shit,” he laughs in a stutter. His eyes grow wide and his face flushes hard. He drops the towel on the floor and slams the door. “Holy…” I hear him laughing. “Way to go all balls out, Whit!”

  And realizing what I’ve just done, I clamp a hand over my mouth to keep in the laugh/scream/squeal that’s climbing up my throat.

  What in the all mighty world of homo sapiens did I just do?

  “That’s a cute birthmark on your hip, by the way,” Kale says through the door. “Kinda looks like a bird.”

  Too shocked to say anything, I grab the towel from the floor and wrap it around myself. A good thirty seconds of silence stretches on. Because. What. Did. I. Just. Do?

  “Whitney?” Kale calls, his voice more gentle now. “You okay?”

  So, being brave once again, I open the door and step out. He stands just outside, still in only a pair of sweats. He’s got this sheepish look on his face, and he’s trying really hard not to smile.

  I just shake my head and step forward into the arms he’s holding open for me.

  “That was really awesome,” he says. There’s traces of laughter there, but he’s also serious. “I don’t want you to always be embarrassed in front of me. I just want you to be you. All of you. All the time. Okay?”

  I bury my face into his chest, still not ready to look him in the face. “Okay.”

  “I don’t quite believe that okay,” he teases, jabbing a finger into my side and tickling me.

  “Okay!” I scream, jumping away from him. “Okay.”

  And with that, I turn away from him, drop my towel, and head for the bedroom to go get dressed.

  I look over my shoulder at him just once before I disappear behind the door. His eyes are wide, his mouth open just slightly. But there’s a hunger in those eyes.

  And it’s there for awkward, quirky little ole me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I swear I can get you a seven figure advance if you sign with me,” the man says as he walks toward the front door. “If you want to be the next big thing, give me a call tonight.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Ando,” Calvin says as he opens the door for him. He waves a goodbye and closes it behind him. I look out the window and see Tony follow him out to his car. “That’s the last one.”

  I collapse back into the couch with a huff. My brain is spinning with all the promises that have been made in the last hour. All the numbers people were throwing at me. All the labels everyone has said they’re already gotten “guaranteed deals” with.

  “So?” Kale asks from the table. He’s got an entire gallon of orange juice sitting in front of him. He’s already downed half of it today. And it’s only seven in the evening.

  “I don’t even know how to process all that,” I answer honestly. “But I can guarantee I can’t work with Mr. Ando or Mrs. Shanka. They will eat me alive.”

  “At least that narrows it down to three candidates,” Calvin says as he looks back down at his tablet. “I think you should go with Ron Taysen. Every one of his current clients has had a top ten hit. He’s experienced and aggressive.”

  “Yeah,” I say as I rest my elbows on my knees and rub under my eyes. I have a headache.

  “Go with your gut,” Kale says after another swig of OJ. “Trust your instincts. They’ll almost always be right.”

  “My gut is con
fused,” I say as I stand from the couch and go to the fridge. Jamie, the cook, left us a ton of left overs, and I’m suddenly ravenously hungry. I pull out a box of ham fried rice and put it into the microwave.

  This is all so overwhelming, I text Ming. So far I haven’t gotten good enough reception to actually call her. So we’ve been texting back and forth.

  Meetings over? She responds back.

  Yeah. I actually have to make a decision now.

  It’s easy. You just go with whoever is hottest.

  I chuckle and shake my head. That’s so Ming. She’ll say the most inappropriate things, so long as it’s not in front of a real live male.

  But as the night progresses, as Kale, Calvin, and I watch some movie from the late nineties that was sitting on a shelf, I know exactly who my gut is telling me who to go with.

  “I want Hadley,” I say when the movie is just about over.

  “Miss Heart?” Calvin asks as he looks over at me with disbelief.

  “Yep,” I say with a nod. And something settles into me. It feels right. It feels comfortable. “She’s the one.”

  “She’s also by far and wide the most inexperienced,” Calvin says as Kale pauses the movie. “She’s a baby in the music industry.”

  “That’s why I want her,” I say as I cross my legs up on the couch. “We’ll watch out for each other. We’ll figure this out together. And if she’s still just getting her legs under her too, she’s not going to be as eager to screw me over. She’s got a lot riding on this, too.”

  “You sure?” Calvin asks. Even as he does, he stands and walks back over to his tablet on the table.

  “Yeah,” I say as I look over at Kale. There’s support there, written all over his face. But also sadness. Cause he knows what this means. I won’t be going to New York with him.

  “I think you made the right decision,” he says though, without a doubt in his voice.