Full House (The Gamblers Book 3) Read online

  All the while, Nate lounged in his chair calmly watching her.

  She knew she had to say something. Anything. “You want to introduce me to your family?”

  “Just my mom. Maybe my sister. My parents are divorced, and Dad lives in Oregon.”

  She knew that. Still, she had to know. “Why?”

  He leaned forward, placing an arm on the table and turning his body her direction. “Why what?”

  “Why take me with you to visit your mom and maybe your sister?”

  He did that one-sided shrug thing she’d seen him do so often. “I was already going and wanted you to come with. No biggie.”

  Right. Maybe she was making too big an issue of it. Maybe he brought all his girlfriends to meet his mom after only a couple of weeks. Not that she was saying she was his girlfriend.

  She nodded pretending to accept his answer, though to her, it still seemed a little strange. “Okay.” She looked down at her plate and ran her fork through her salad.

  “Okay? So, you’ll go?”

  That made her laugh. “It didn’t sound as if I had a choice.”

  She thought that would make him laugh or at least crack a smile, but his expression was dead serious when he said, “You always have a choice.”

  Oh, well, okay then. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

  That earned her a smile. “Good.”

  ≈≈≈

  Ten hours later, Nate made the trek from the studio to his trailer. All he wanted was a hot shower and his bed for the next five hours until he needed to get up for the next day’s filming.

  A manila envelope lay on the top step leading to his trailer weighted down with a large rock. He stooped to retrieve it as he went in, tossing it on the kitchenette counter on his way to the fridge for a bottle of water.

  Ten minutes later, freshly showered, the envelope caught his eye. Curious, he picked it up, noting his name on the front in neat, feminine handwriting.

  He wasn’t expecting the inside to contain fan mail. He had only one public address, a PO box, that his management company collected from. Still, the short, one-page letter didn’t give him cause for alarm. It was signed, your number-one fan. Again, not unusual. He inspected the envelope. No return address or stamp.

  Slipping the letter back in the envelope, he stuck it in a drawer with plans to give it to April, his manager, if anything else unusual occurred.

  A yawn ripped through him, and he made his way to his bed. The slats on the window blinds were twisted open, and he had a clear shot of Victoria’s trailer. He wondered if she was asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, his body so tired it was fighting with his brain for supremacy. But his brain didn’t want to shut down. For the first time that day he was finally alone, and it was reminding him how much he’d hated walking into the commissary and finding Victoria smiling and laughing with Rick Massey. He hated even more, the jealousy and anger he’d felt upon seeing it. He’d never been that guy. Hell, he didn’t even want to be that guy. But his brain was telling him, as far as Victoria was concerned, he was that guy, so he’d better get used to it.

  Lying down, he tried to put his feelings for Victoria into perspective. But all he could see when he closed his eyes was her face. Her beautiful fucking face. Then her smile. A smile, that when he saw it, felt like a punch to the gut. Followed by her laugh. Sultry and deep, he felt himself hardening just thinking about it.

  Keeping his hands locked behind his head, he refused to do anything about the throbbing in his cock. He only wanted to be deep inside Victoria, and no substitute would do. He’d have her to himself soon. A weekend away from the stress of work and obligations. A weekend to relax and have fun. He couldn’t say he wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Sighing, he closed his eyes, forcing his mind to go blank. When that didn’t work, he started going over his lines for the next day, knowing, if anything, that would put him to sleep. And it must have worked, for he didn’t remember anything else after that until his alarm woke him up the next morning.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “You ready to hit the road?” Nate asked after she’d opened the trailer door. He was a yummy sight, standing on the second to top step dressed in worn jeans and a long sleeve, thermal shirt.

  “Yep. Got my suitcase in my trunk.” He’d asked her to pack the night before, so they could leave straight after filming.

  She closed and locked the door, and he followed her to her car. “Pop the trunk.”

  She did as he asked, hitting the button on her key fob to unlatch the trunk, and he raised the lid, grabbing her bag. “Is this it?” he asked, referring to the small suitcase.

  She took in the raised brow he aimed her way. “What? We’re only going for the weekend.”

  He placed her suitcase at his feet and slammed the lid. “Most women would have packed a trunkful.”

  She bristled for two reasons. First, she didn’t like to be lumped in with “most women.” She hated stereotypes and figured each person should be judged individually. Secondly, he was basically telling her he’d traveled with enough women to make that assumption. Not cool.

  She took a page out of his book and shrugged a single shoulder. She wouldn’t tell him that after spending her workdays wearing two tons of makeup, having her hair messed with hourly, and making several outfit changes, the last thing she wanted to do on her day off was primp. Instead, she said, “Guess I’m low-maintenance.”

  He raised a brow at her tone. “I wasn’t complaining.”

  She sighed, knowing she was acting bitchy. “Sorry. I’m edgy and nervous about meeting your mom.”

  He picked up her bag and draped his other arm over her shoulders, steering her toward his car. “Don’t be. My mom’s one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.”

  Easy for him to say. It was his mother.

  The usual three-hour drive turned into more than four—factoring in the patches of traffic they’d had to sit through and a bathroom-slash-snack purchase stop—and they didn’t arrive at his mom’s doorstep until almost midnight.

  Unbuckling her seat belt, Victoria stared through the windshield at the darkened house. “I hope we don’t wake her.”

  Nate had called his mom when they’d made their pit stop, letting her know they would be late and not to wait up for them.

  Turning off the ignition, he said, “She sleeps like the dead.” Then he chuckled. “I remember once when I was about fifteen, I’d stayed out past my curfew and had to sneak into the house. My sister, Tammy, was having a sleepover, and the girls were camping out in the living room. I guess they’d gotten themselves worked up, telling ghost stories, and when they saw my shadow walking past the room, they started screaming bloody murder until I made myself known.” He shook his head grinning. “Mom slept through the whole thing.”

  Victoria laughed. “How old’s your sister?”

  “Two years younger than me. Thirty-three. You’ll probably get to meet her. I’m sure my mom’s told her we were coming, and Tammy always tries to stop by when I’m in town.”

  “Does she live close by?”

  “Yeah, she moved back about two years ago after her divorce.”

  Victoria felt her heart ping. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Her ex is a prick.”

  “Do they have children?”

  “No. And I think that was one of the reasons she divorced him. She wanted them, and he didn’t.”

  Sadness for Nate’s unknown sister filled her.

  He tapped her knee. “Come on. Let’s get in the house, I’m sure you’re tired.”

  She kept odd hours as shooting schedules varied from day to day, but funnily enough, even though she’d been up since early that morning, she was strangely full of energy.

  The smell of salt and brine hit her nostrils as soon as she stepped out of the car, and she took a deep breath. “Smells like the beach. How far away is it?”

  “Close. Walking distance. We can go tomorrow if you’d like. It’ll be to
o cold to go in the water, but there’s a section that’s private and a nice place to take a walk.”

  Heck yeah, she loved the beach. It was one of the first places she’d gone after moving from the vast desert of Nevada to California. “I’d love to go.”

  “Good, it’s a date,” he said with a smile and a wink.

  Nate collected their bags from the trunk then used a key from his keyring to let them in the house. That made things easy.

  A light was left on for them in the entry, and Nate flicked it off before leading them through a spacious living room. Large sliding glass doors with their drapes left open, let in enough moonlight to see the room was decorated in browns and blues with enough knick-knacks to give it a homey feel but not too many it looked cluttered. An intricately patterned afghan was draped across the sofa. Her eyes landed on the fireplace mantel and the picture frames that lined the surface. She veered away from Nate wanting a closer look.

  She felt his presence at her back and pointed to a photo of Nate in a red felt cowboy hat and brown vest complete with a tin sheriff’s badge. “How old were you here?”

  She felt his hands land on her shoulders. “I don’t know. Four or five, I guess.”

  Victoria smiled and looked at the next picture in line. Nate with his arm wrapped around a girl who looked a few years younger than him. “You and your sister?”

  Nate stepped closer to see better. “Yeah. That was taken at her junior high graduation.”

  “You guys look so much alike.”

  In her periphery, she saw Nate nod. “We take after our mom.” He pointed to a photo near the end of the row. “There’s one with her in it.”

  Victoria moved down the mantle and stopped in front of a picture with Nate’s mom sandwiched between Nate and his sister, Tammy. Seeing the three together, there was no mistaking they were mother, son, and daughter.

  “Come on,” he said, picking up their luggage. “Let me show you where you’re sleeping. I’ll give you a tour in the morning.”

  She followed him to a room at the top of the stairs. He flipped a switch on the wall, turning on the overhead light, revealing a tastefully decorated bedroom. Off-white walls covered in framed artwork created the only splashes of color in contrast with the white eyelet bedspread, matching curtains, and various pieces of whitewashed, wooden furniture.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said running her hand along the comforter.

  “If you need anything, I’ll be in the room next door. The bathroom is right across the hall.” He gave her a sheepish look. “We’ll have to share. I’ll let you go first.”

  She gave him a smile. “You go ahead. I’ll shower in the morning. Right now, I just want to crawl into this comfortable looking bed.”

  Nate placed her suitcase on the end of the bed. “I’ll let you get to it then.” He stepped in close, tilting her head with his index finger placed under her chin. “Sweet dreams,” he said in a husky voice right before he brushed his lips across hers.

  He was out of the room, closing the door behind him before she could wish him the same.

  A dusky sky filled the bedroom window when Victoria opened her eyes and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Reaching over, she snagged her cell phone off the nightstand. Six a.m. Early but not obscenely so.

  The sound of breaking glass reached her bedroom as did the litany of curses in a female voice that followed. Throwing back the covers, she scrambled out of bed and hit the door running.

  She stopped in the kitchen entry when she saw a middle-aged woman, presumably Nate’s mom, on her hands and knees, picking pieces of glass off the floor. “Are you okay?”

  Nate’s mom sat up on her knees and turned her head to look over her shoulder. A smile lit her face. “You must be Victoria.” Her smile turned into a frown. “This is not how I wanted to meet you. I planned on having breakfast ready by the time you guys came down.”

  Victoria took a step into the kitchen but abruptly halted when Nate’s mom shouted, “Wait! Don’t come in here with bare feet.”

  “Oh, let me grab my shoes.” Victoria took a step back, making a move to leave the kitchen.

  “No, stay. It’s okay, I’m almost done.” She picked up a few more larger pieces then stood, throwing them in the trash. “There,” she said, dusting off her hands. “I’m just going to grab the vacuum to suck up the tiny bits.”

  “Ms. Reed, please, I’d like to help. Tell me where the vacuum is, and I’ll get it.”

  Nate’s mom placed her hands on her hips and huffed. “Fine. On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “No more of that Ms. Reed business. You call me Debbie.”

  Victoria held out her hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Debbie took it one step further, pulling Victoria into a hug. “I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day.”

  Breaking from the hug, Victoria gave her a quizzical look. “To see what?”

  “Nathan bringing a girl home.”

  She stepped past a stunned Victoria and out of the kitchen. So knocked for a loop by Ms. Reed’s—Debbie’s—statement, it took Victoria a full minute to remember she was supposed to have collected the vacuum.

  ≈≈≈

  Nate heard a burst of laughter as soon as his foot hit the last step of the staircase and followed the sound—and the scent of bacon mingled with coffee—to the kitchen.

  The first thing his eyes landed on was Victoria, sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee cradled between her two hands. She looked beautiful first thing in the morning—her face scrubbed free of makeup, her hair in a tangled, sexy disarray, and her oversized t-shirt not disguising the fact he didn’t think she was wearing a bra.

  Their eyes met, and she gave him a cheery smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  His mom turned from the stove. “There’s my boy.”

  She set the spatula down and came in for a hug. He wrapped her up tight, giving Victoria a smirk over the top of her head, which she returned with a grin of her own.

  His mom stepped away, keeping hold of his biceps. “It’s been too long.” She looked at him with a critical eye. “You’ve lost weight. You’re not eating enough.”

  He heard Victoria try to smother a chuckle, and his eyes shot back to her. He gave her a knowing grin, rolling his eyes. He truly loved his mom but sometimes she forgot he was thirty-five.

  “It’s only been two months, and I’m the same weight as I’ve always been.” He kissed the top of her head before strolling to the cupboard to take down a mug for some coffee.

  He set his mug down on the table before capturing Victoria’s chin and tilting her head so he could lean in for a kiss. “You’re up early.”

  Her lips were soft and warm, and he couldn’t wait to find out what else was soft and warm about her first thing in the morning. Preferably when they were waking up in bed together.

  He took a seat, lifting his mug to sip his coffee, ignoring the wide-eyed look Victoria was giving him. He raised a brow, smirking. “Cat got your tongue?”

  She took her time, raising her own mug, and taking a sip before answering. “On the contrary. I’m just sitting here, wondering how you could have slept through all the commotion this morning. Seems your mom’s not the only one who sleeps like the dead.”

  He heard his mom’s low chuckle but didn’t take his eyes off Victoria as he hooked the rung of the empty chair beside him with his foot, pulling it closer to stretch his legs on it, crossing them at the ankles, so he could slouch back in his chair. He shrugged. “What can I say, I’ve learned to get my sleep while I can get it.”

  A frown marred the spot between Victoria’s brows. “Do you ever get tired of it? The life, I mean. The long wacky hours at work. Always having to be on while in public for your fans and the paparazzi. The absence of any kind of privacy.”

  “Sometimes.” From the corner of his eye, he saw his mom turn from the stove, paying attention to him as he spoke. “More so lately than any other time in my career. I f
ind myself wanting some of the simpler things in life. Going on a date and not having it turn into a media circus. Going to the supermarket so I can pick out my own produce. Going for a walk down the street just for the hell of it.” He sighed and shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking because I think it every time I get these ideas in my head. What can someone so rich and successful, have anything to bitch about. And you wouldn’t be wrong, I should be thankful for everything I have.”

  Victoria reached out and placed her hand over his. “No, I get it. My mom might have been retired from the business for a while before I was old enough to understand, but her life was never normal. We couldn’t go anywhere without someone recognizing her, wanting her autograph or to take a picture with her.

  “She couldn’t go to my school open houses or plays.” She laughed, but Nate saw a sadness she couldn’t hide. “She would have a professional come and videotape everything, so she could watch it at home.”

  Nate flipped their hands around, so he was now holding hers and laced their fingers. “With the way you grew up, I’m surprised you wanted to become an actress.”

  She shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Guess it’s in my blood. Did you always want to be an actor?”

  His mom chuckled before looking over her shoulder to say, “Let’s see, while growing up, Nathan wanted to be a firefighter, policeman, astronaut, veterinarian, and a race car driver.”

  Victoria laughed. “That’s quite a list.”

  Nate smirked. “Guess it’s the reason I became an actor. So I could be all those things.”

  Holding a platter of eggs and bacon, his mom walked to the table, setting it down in the center. “Eat before it gets cold.”

  “Thank you, Debbie, but I wish you would’ve let me help you.”

  Nate leaned toward Victoria, whispering confidingly but loud enough for his mom to overhear, “She doesn’t like anyone else cooking in her kitchen.”

  His mom huffed. “No, I just don’t let you cook in my kitchen. You’re a walking disaster.” She turned to Victoria. “Do you know, he set fire to the toaster once? He thought it was okay to butter the bread before toasting it.”