Free Midnight Angel by Carly Phillips Page B

eyes
and said, “Why do I have the distinct feeling you aren’t here with
the news I was hoping for?”
    She studied him with a fresh, new
perspective. His gorgeous green gaze and handsome face would have a
smarter woman than her swooning. God, she wished she were smarter
because then her life would be so much less complicated.
    “Can we talk?” she asked.
    He gestured inside with a sweep of his arm,
and once they were seated on the leather couch in his spacious den,
Holly mustered her courage. “You’re such a good man,” she said
softly.
    “But you don’t love me.”
    She shook her head. “Not the way you
deserve.” And the signs had been there all along. She had never
given to him physically or emotionally the way she gave herself to
Dylan. Oh, she had tried hard to convince herself she could love
John, but the truth is she didn’t. She couldn’t.
    She loved Dylan, and no other man would do.
“I’m just so sorry it took me so long to—”
    “Don’t say you’re sorry.” He cut her off.
“I’m not sorry for the time we had, and I know I learned a lot
about myself. Especially about my patience level. It’s too damn
high,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh.
    Holly laughed with him before covering his
hand with hers. “There’s something you need to know though. While
we were together I never consciously thought we couldn’t have a
future because of Dylan.”
    “I knew that or else I would have given you
an ultimatum much sooner. I take it you two are back together?”
    “I don’t know what we are.” She grimaced,
unsure how to explain. “He went back to L.A.,” she said, deciding
that since he was asking, she’d talk to John. Old habits, she
mused. They
had
been close, and she’d always confided in
him.
    “I caught the morning’s news,” he said, the
implication clear.
    Besides, Holly knew they watched the same
channel. “Interesting stuff, huh?” She ducked her head in
embarrassment.
    “Is it true?” John touched her shoulder,
forcing her to look up, then pinned her with his steady gaze.
    “No.” She shook her head. “No, it’s
not.”
    “You trust Dylan enough to say that with
such certainty?”
    She nodded, no hesitation in her heart.
    “Then why are you in such a bad mood?” John
leaned back against the couch, relaxing as they talked like old
friends.
    Which they were, she thought, feeling more
settled than she had in a while. And he was right. She was in an
awful mood.
    “It sounds like you two finally have
everything going for you, no?”
    “Yes. No. I don’t know. He lives in L.A. Not
only is it across the country, but his lifestyle, the people in it,
they’re Hollywood. I’m small town. What kind of chance do we have?”
she asked, expressing all of her doubts and fears.
    Not all
, a tiny voice in her head
chided her.
    “Listen to me,” John said. “You have exactly
the kind of chance that you
want
. If you’re looking for
excuses to bail on Dylan, I know you can be the master of
avoidance. But if you want a future, you’re going to have to trust
him.”
    “I do!” She narrowed her gaze. “Didn’t I
just finish telling you I was certain the gossip about Melanie
isn’t true?”
    “And that’s a start. It’s just not
everything. When’s he due back?”
    She shrugged. “He didn’t say. He just
promised he’d return.”
    “Then I guess it’s up to you whether you
believe him or you’re going to let one mistake the guy made ten
years ago ruin any future you two
could
have.” In that one
sentence, John nailed Holly’s last remaining fear.
    That Dylan would up and leave her again the
way he had before. The last time, he didn’t know what he was
running to. He had only the idea of fame and fortune beckoning to
him. Now, ten years later, he knew what kind of lifestyle awaited
him in Hollywood. He was America’s favorite movie star.
    For how long would he be content with his
hometown girl?
    She blinked, her eyes burning. “When did you
get to be