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  “Speaking of happily ever after, how is your relationship with NFL running back Trey Everett? Are there wedding bells in your future?” Millie asked before a microphone hit her in the head. Plastic reporter was getting her revenge.

  Taylor stepped back as she felt panic rising. It was the pushing, the shoving, and all the lights from the cameras that were upsetting her. She needed to end this interview quickly. “Trey and I are wonderful. Thank you for asking. Go Vultures! Get your season tickets now. I know I’ll be there cheering them on. Thanks, Millie. See you all later!”

  Taylor waved and plastered a shaky smile on her face before walking towards the set. She took the last sip of her coffee, threw the cup in the dumpster, and took a deep breath. She’d survived the cameras, but she was starting to shake. An orange blur leapt from behind the reporters and over the security fence, causing Taylor to jump away and let out a shriek. The streak of orange disappeared into the dumpster while security rushed forward. The woman with orange hair and a bright yellow shirt reappeared triumphantly with Taylor’s coffee cup in her hand.

  “Miss Jefferies, Miss Jefferies, can you sign this?” the woman with pigtails called out as security hauled her out the dumpster.

  Taylor’s heart resumed its normal beating and she shook her head. It had been a long time since she’d been around fans.

  “What the hell?” Melanie asked as she stopped next to Taylor and stared at the woman being held in place by two guards.

  “A fan,” Taylor shrugged. It was better than the men who had tried to sneak into her trailer and steal her underwear.

  “Why don’t I have a fan doing that?” Melanie asked her assistant as the media focused on the woman in yellow calling out to Taylor.

  “I’m your number one fan!” the crazed woman yelled.

  “I’ll see you on set. If someone’s willing to jump in the dumpster and risk going to jail, then the least I can do is sign the stupid cup.” Taylor set a soft smile on her face and indicated to the guards to bring the yellow dot of a woman to the fence.

  “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m this close to you. I love you. I’m seriously your biggest fan. I just knew you’d be back.” The woman who Taylor guessed to be around twenty-three gushed as Taylor dug around her bag for a pen.

  “Well, it’s nice to be back.”

  “I’m Cynthia Luisa Olson, but you can make it out to Cyndi Lu.” the woman practically bounced as the guards held onto her shoulders.

  “Here you go. Thanks, Cyndi Lu. Have a good day.” Taylor handed the cup back to the woman as the guards hauled her away.

  “Taylor!” A deep voice called from the far end of parking lot.

  Taylor looked over her shoulder and her eyes went wide. Grant Elliott was running along the fence wearing nothing but athletic shorts. His toned and chiseled body shimmered in the morning sunlight as he rushed toward her with a worried look on his face. As he neared Taylor, she narrowed her eyes. Wait, his body wasn’t shining with sweat. It was body oil. And was that make-up shadowing the contours of his abs to make them more defined? As Grant wrapped her up in a hug, she had her answer. Yup. It was make-up and this was all a big show for the reporters.

  “Are you okay? I was so worried when I saw that mad woman leap at you.”

  “Grant, put me down or I’ll kick you in the balls.” Taylor could already read the headlines . . . Is there romance on the set of Taylor Jefferies’s new movie?

  “I was just worried, that’s all.”

  “Damn.” Taylor looked down at her shirt. “These oil stains better come out. And you know you weren’t worried. You’re just a camera whore. Can’t you go after Melanie? She’s single at least.”

  Grant didn’t even look guilty as he shrugged and slung his arm over her shoulder. “Nope. She’s not nearly as famous as you. Not half as pretty either. Come on, boss, let’s get to work!” Grant slapped her bottom and raced into the make-up trailer before she could catch him. Yup, that was definitely going to be in the news. Taylor sighed. Welcome back to show biz.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The smell coming from the oven made his mouth water. It was cooking perfectly. And thank goodness, because Taylor deserved nothing less than perfection. A look of relief came over Trey's face as he peeked into the oven. As soon as practice had ended, he had raced to the grocery and bought everything he needed for Taylor’s favorite meal. The turtle brownies were baking, her favorite ice cream was in the freezer, the lobster just went in, the asparagus was ready, and the risotto was almost done.

  Trey set the vase of flowers on the table and lit candles in the dining room. He grabbed a second bunch of roses and plucked the petals to spread on the ground in the shape of a big heart. Nervously, he went down on one knee as he heard the sound of a car parking outside. He pulled the ring out and waited for the love of his life to walk through the door. Please say yes, his mind chanted over and over as the door began to open.

  “Taylor Jefferies . . . who the hell are you?” Trey asked the middle-aged couple walking through his door.

  Trey tucked the engagement ring in his pocket and shot to his feet before approaching the angry-looking couple. Why would they be angry? It’s his house they just walked into without knocking!

  “Where is she?” The man with slightly graying, light brown hair asked accusingly.

  “Taylor!” The blonde woman in very tight clothes shrieked as she tried to run further into the house. Trey put out his arm and stopped her. Instead of stopping, she turned and started hitting him. “Assault! He’s assaulting me. Call the police!”

  “That’s a fabulous idea. Then maybe I can figure out who you are and why you’re breaking into my house.”

  “Mom? Dad?” Taylor’s cold voice filled with disbelief sliced through the tantrum the lady was throwing.

  “There you are, baby!” The woman pulled herself from Trey’s grasp and ran for Taylor.

  Trey’s whole body went rigid as Taylor’s eyes filled with anger and fear. Her mother wrapped her arms around Taylor and started sobbing. “My baby, my baby,” she sobbed over and over as she clutched Taylor. Taylor, on the other hand, had a blank expression as she stood frozen in place while her mother bawled. Trey hurried over to her and pried her mother off her. The man she identified as her father slowly looked around the room as if he were casing the place for a robbery. He hadn’t said anything to Taylor or Trey. Instead he stopped in front of Taylor’s Oscar and stared.

  “Get off me, you brute!” her mother screamed as she flailed in Trey’s arms.

  “Taylor?” He didn’t know what to do. He knew what her parents had done to her, but she was just standing there. What was he supposed to do?

  “Look here, honey. It’s the Oscar we won for our ungrateful daughter,” Taylor’s father said as calmly as if he were pointing out a tourist attraction.

  Taylor’s mouth went dry at the sight of her parents. She hadn’t seen them since that horrible day at the studio when she was seventeen years old. They looked like her parents, but a little more wrinkled and worn down. She didn’t really know what to do or think. Her mind literally froze with fear when her mother raced to her and gripped her in a tight hug.

  But when her father held her Oscar and called her ungrateful, she finally managed to flinch. No matter what—the yelling, the degrading, or the verbal and physical abuse—Taylor still felt like a bad daughter when her father said these things. She knew in her mind she wasn’t, but that didn’t stop the guilt.

  “That’s it!” Trey roared, silencing the room.

  Taylor watched as her mother stomped toward him and let her hand fly. Trey caught her wrist before her hand connected with his face and Taylor saw his square jaw tighten in anger. Flashbacks from her past threatened to overcome her, but it was Trey’s powerful voice that brought her back to the present.

  “You may do that to a defenseless child, but I’m neither a child nor defenseless. And neither is Taylor anymore. You’re not welcome here. If you’re not out of this h
ouse in five seconds, then I’m calling the police.”

  Taylor blinked and the room came back into focus. Trey was right. She wasn’t alone anymore. She wasn’t a child anymore. And she certainly wasn’t defenseless anymore. “Why are you here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.” Her voice was soft, but it held a tone of authority she was proud of.

  “We’re here for you, baby. To help you relaunch your career. We’re your managers after all, baby,” her mother cooed.

  Her father put down the Oscar and wrapped his arm around his wife. “That’s right. And we’re here to save you from this dumb jock. Running backs only have an average of three years in the NFL. His time is up. He’ll be living off your money for the rest of his life. He’s only holding you back. We saw you with Grant Elliott today. Now he’s going places with his life. You would be a Hollywood power couple just like Brad and Angelina. You could be Graylor.”

  Her eyes shot to Trey. She hadn’t told him yet about the show Grant put on this morning, but the quirk of his lips relaxed her. They’d always had trust in their relationship and she knew better than to think he’d fall for her parents’ tricks.

  “Graylor,” Trey repeated. “They’re right, Taylor. It sounds so much better than T2, T-Squared, Double T’s and the other nicknames we have.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes and felt her confidence rise. She was not the person she was all those years ago. And one thing she knew for sure, there was no one she’d rather spend the rest of her life with, money or not, than Trey Everett. He made her stronger just with that little quirk of his lips.

  “That’s true. You were my managers. Ten percent, right?” Taylor asked as if she was trying to remember.

  “That’s right, baby,” her mother smiled sweetly.

  “Of course, now lots of managers make fifteen percent. But if you end up with Grant, and he makes us his manager, then we’ll say what?” Her father shrugged. “Twelve percent each.”

  Taylor nodded her head. “Sorry, Trey, but we’re done.”

  “I was worried about that. I mean, who can beat twelve percent? And Grant has those great abs.”

  Taylor couldn’t stop herself; she laughed so hard tears fell as her parents stared at them confused. “Mom, Dad,” she said as she laughed. “Get the hell out of our house. Oh, Trey, that was a good one. Do you know Grant has a make-up artist specifically for his abs?”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. I can’t wait to tell the guys. Their girlfriends and wives are always swooning over him,” Trey said as he completely ignored her parents.

  “See? I told you! Y’all are worse than the Rose sisters,” Taylor laughed again.

  “Nope. Not true,” he denied before looking over at her parents and straightening to his full six-foot-two height. “I believe your daughter told you to get out.” When they didn’t move, he narrowed his eyes. “Now!” Upon hearing him yell, her parents narrowed their eyes in challenge. They never did like being told what to do.

  “You don’t give us orders!” her father yelled back.

  “That’s right,” Taylor said as she walked past her parents and to the front door. “I do. And I’m telling you to leave and to never come back.”

  She held the front door open and waited silently until her parents walked out. Her mother turned and with the sweet smile Taylor used to fall for said, “We’ll be around if you change your mind, baby. Mama loves you.”

  Taylor slammed the door as her answer and leaned against it completely worn out from the exchange. For a second, she closed her eyes and just breathed deeply. Her nose twitched. “Do I smell smoke?”

  “Dang!” Trey rushed back into the kitchen and looked at the risotto burned to the pan, the overdone lobster, and the hard-as-a-rock brownies.

  “You did this all for me?” Taylor asked in awe as Trey threw the whole pan into the trash.

  “Yeah. I, um, wanted to celebrate your first day of filming. Why don’t you go change . . . Is that oil on your shirt?”

  “Grant.” Taylor grinned. “I can’t wait to tell you the story. The guys will love it.”

  “My lips are sealed. The guys will never know, but it sounds good. I’ll clean this up and we can get some comfort food at the diner.”

  “I like that plan.” Taylor rose on her tiptoes and kissed him. She dug her fingers into his strong shoulders and let the badness of the day fall away. “Oh, someone’s happy I’m home,” she chuckled as she rubbed herself against him.

  “I sure am. But let’s hurry before the tourists get there and take all the tables.”

  “You know Casey orders the locals to be served first. All it took was us living here full time for two years for her to grudgingly declare us not tourists.”

  “True, but I need to get this cleaned up. To be continued?”

  “Definitely. I’ll be right back. I just want to pretreat these oil stains.”

  Taylor sauntered from the room and Trey let out a worried breath. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the engagement ring box he had planned on giving her. As he threw the lobster out, he tossed away his idea for the perfect proposal happening tonight. Not with dinner blown and the confrontation with her parents—even if they had been right about one thing. He wasn’t good enough for her. Giving one last disappointed look at the box, he reached up and set it behind the molding on top of the cabinet. It would be safe there until he could think of another perfect proposal.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A block from the beach was Casey’s Honkytonk Café. It was a dive and that was a compliment. But it also had the best food on the island. That made it worth putting up with the tourists in town for the stupid treasure hunt and Casey’s not-so-sparkling personality. The crowd was large tonight and Taylor smiled at some of the production crew from the movie set as she made her way into the small diner.

  “Local or tourist,” a small blonde asked as she ran from table to table filling drinks.

  “Nontourist,” Casey shouted from behind the old-fashioned soda fountain.

  “What do I do with that?” the little spitfire shot back to Casey.

  “It means they’re ahead of the tourists, but behind the locals,” Casey fired back.

  “I feel so loved, like part of the community. Thanks, Casey!” Trey called out before receiving the middle finger.

  “This way.” The new waitress grabbed two menus and the long line of tourists groaned as Trey and Taylor took the only empty table.

  “New to Hung Island?” Taylor asked pleasantly. The blonde’s head shot up and Taylor was met with huge blue eyes and a slightly shell-shocked look.

  “Yup. I’m Reece. This is my first day… well, kinda, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Give a shout when you know what you want.”

  “Will do. Welcome to the island, Reece,” Taylor smiled. The poor girl. Starting a new job was never easy, but being a waitress during the peak of tourist season was brutal.

  “So, tell me the story about Grant,” Trey chuckled with anticipation.

  She had been wrong; he was way worse than the Rose sisters when it came to gossip. Taylor launched into the story of Grant rushing to save her from the harmless, but slightly psychotic fan as a ploy to get on TV. “I swear, one of these days I am going to come to work and have to break up a scuffle between Grant and Melanie as they fight for camera time. They are attention whores in the worst way. But just be warned that some of the sketchier gossip sites have already picked up the story that we’ve broken up and I’m with Grant now.”

  Trey raised his hand and waved at Reece to let her know they were ready. “What is this, the sixth or seventh time we’ve broken up?” Trey asked as he grinned.

  It had really bothered them when the first report came out. She had been in college and Trey had been training before his rookie season. But after discussing it, they were prepared when it happened again and again and again. “Seventh, I think.”

  Reece stopped at the table and gave them a quick smile. “Y’all ready?”

 
; Trey nodded and Taylor placed her order for the fried pork chop while Trey ordered the shrimp and grits. Reece was writing down the order when talk of the treasure started up again from one of her cameramen a couple of tables away. “I’ll get this out to you shortly,” Reece said as she topped off their iced tea and headed to the next table.

  Her cameraman saw her, smiled, and waved. “Hey, boss. What’s all this talk about treasure?”

  “Oh, it’s just this silly story that’s been exaggerated . . .” Taylor started, but the sound of forks hitting plates stopped her. She looked around and saw the angry faces of the people sitting around her.

  “It is not a silly story. It our history.”

  “Hi, Millie. I didn’t see you amongst this crowd. Thanks for your story and pointing out Grant’s obvious showmanship in front of press row.”

  “No problem, but we will have a problem if you think Hung Island’s Treasure Hunt is silly.”

  Taylor grimaced. How could she have forgotten PR 101? Don’t upset the locals, especially if you’re a nonlocal. “You know, Millie, it’s probably because I’ve never heard the full story. All I know is something about the full moon being closest to the Earth. Why don’t you tell us both so we can really get the feel of the legend.”

  “Of course! The history of Hung is so interesting. See, it all started in 1790 when pirates ruled this part of the ocean. Dashing pirates with big . . . swords.” Millie grinned with excitement.

  “Yes, a boat full of sexy pirates. I think we get that part,” Taylor said as she tried not to laugh.

  “But it was the pirate captain who was the sexiest of all with his long thick . . . brown hair and glowing emerald eyes,” Millie continued with enthusiasm as she ignored the men rolling their eyes. “Anyway, they had been doing what pirates do— they got some booty. They had a lot of booty and were enjoying it quite a bit when the British navy tracked them down. It became a race that ended when the pirate captain found this small island. There were only a few settlers here and they thought they were under attack. So they hid the treasure because it was so big they didn’t know what to do with it.”