The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(14)
Author: Alice Clayton

“This song never ceases to make me happy. If I had a top-five song list, this would be on it.” I leaned my head back against the leather seat and let “Into the Mystic” pour over me.

I began to sing as we drove. I could never resist when this song was on. I sang along, keeping my eyes closed as I let my hand trail along in the wind. The sun was shining perfectly, warming my skin and making little patterns on the inside of my eyelids. It was one of those moments when you find yourself and your own little world in perfect harmony. I was content.

I could feel Jack’s eyes on me, and when the song was over, I looked at him.

The sunlight had caught his hair and was bouncing colors of blonde, wheat, toffee and vanilla around him. His eyes were burning green as he watched me.

He hadn’t spoken since the song came on. He looked at me for so long that I began to get a little self-conscious about my singing. Not everyone was a sing-along-in-the-car kind of person.

“Sorry, I tend to get a little carried away,” I began. He took his right hand off the steering wheel and placed it on my arm.

“Shh,” he said softly. “That was lovely, Grace,” he continued, smiling sweetly at me as he lightly traced shapes on my skin.

OK, look. Whenever I hear people say that they felt “sparks,” I usually think it’s a load of poo. I mean, I have felt attraction to people, sure, and I have even felt some instant lust. But sparks? Please.

Then he touched my skin. Purposeful y. Pointedly. Nowhere near platonical y.

Sparks. Sparks. Sparks. Hot sparks. Flashing sparks. Lightning bolt sparks.

Hal Sparks? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph sparks.

We were at the end of Sunset Boulevard where it meets the Pacific Coast Highway. I pul ed my gaze away from his and looked across to the Pacific crashing intently against the sand.

“End of the road, Grace. Where do we go from here?” he asked gently, still touching my arm.

“Gladstone’s,” I croaked out, breath catching in my throat.

Where?

“Where?” he asked, snapping out of his own reverie.

“Gladstone’s,” I said again, pointing to the restaurant on the other side of the PCH. “I need to eat.”

My breathing was finally coming under control again, and he chuckled a little as he followed my finger.

“Ah, I see. Well, then let’s get you fed.” He grinned as he turned onto the highway and into the parking lot.

Chapter 7

Gladstone’s is one of my favorite restaurants, and although it’s a little touristy, it is perfectly so. It’s an indoor/outdoor restaurant, with a worn plank floor and concrete benches to sit on outside. We chose to do just that and had the entire Pacific Ocean as our backdrop. I ordered a beer immediately, which Jack joined me in as we continued to smile at each other. I know I must have looked like I had fallen asleep with a hanger in my mouth. I could still feel his hand on my arm, as if it had burned an impression there.

Our server came back with our beer and we ordered our lunch. As it was a seafood restaurant, I always got the she-crab soup and the coconut shrimp. I’d been ordering the exact same meal for years. Even when I would come back to visit, I always made Holly bring me here.

After the waitress finished taking our order, Jack raised his glass of Killian’s Red to me and said, “To Van Morrison, and the sexiest version of ‘Into the

Mystic’ I’ve ever heard.”

I blushed a little. “Well, thank you, sir. I tend to lose control when I hear that song, Although you are really in for it if a U2 song ever comes on the radio.

I really lose control when I am subjected to The Edge,” I admitted.

He thought for a moment. “Well, here’s to me finding more ways to make you lose control,” he said, giving me a wink.

Before I had a chance to respond to that little nugget, I saw his eyes flick up behind me. I turned and noticed two women, a little older than I was. They wore that same expression Sara had on this morning. They began to approach us, and they both giggled uncontrollably, neither one of them wanting to be the first to say anything. Finally, the bolder of the two stepped forward and said, “Hi, are you Joshua … I mean, Jack Hamilton?” she asked, collapsing in a fit of laughter.

I struggled not to laugh myself, smiling quietly as I looked at Jack.

He began to blush and answered, “Yes, how are you? What’s your name?”

“Wow, I’m Claudia and this is Michelle. Can we take your picture?” she rushed out, with the other woman, Michelle, convulsing next to her.

“Sure, of course.” He smiled as they clicked away merrily, meeting my eyes once and winking. The two women paid no attention to me. They were caught up with their Super Sexy Scientist Guy.

He chatted with them for a moment and the forward one said, “OK, enough. We’ll let you eat your lunch now. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much we, uh, I mean, uh, bye!” she finished, turning quickly and then marching them away. They had barely made it twenty feet before the screaming started.

“Oh, man, you really are a hit with the womenfolk, huh?” I teased, taking a sip of my beer. When it was just him and I, it was easy to forget that all signs were pointing toward him becoming a major Hollywood player by the end of the year.

“Yeah, yeah. The ladies, they love me. What can I say?” He shrugged.

“Ass,” I stated, as the server brought our lunch. We slipped back into our comfortable conversation. The fans had broken the tension that had been building all day.

We finished our lunch, and after sitting and watching the waves for a while, we decided to take a walk before heading back into town. Malibu was always beautiful, and this day was no exception. I held my sneakers in my hand as we walked along the water.

“This is really a Hallmark moment, Hamilton. Walking on the beach, sunshine, seagulls. It’s freaking perfect,” I said, glancing at him sideways. He was silhouetted against the horizon, the sun once again highlighting the exquisite planes of his face.

“If it was perfect, we would be rolling around on the sand together, kissing like mad.”

I stopped walking and looked him straight in the eye. Then I lay down on the sand, and began to roll myself back and forth. He closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky.

“Fucking nuts girl,” he sighed.

“Come on, big boy, get down here and roll with me. I can’t do this alone.

Someone will call Baywatch and tell them there’s a girl on the beach having some kind of fit,” I snickered, getting covered in sand.