Hollyweird by Terri Clark Read Free Book Online

myself. Fortunately, small, intimate sitting areas were clustered around the perimeter with one VIP area, a white gossamer-draped tent set on an elevated dais that overlooked the entire club.
    Des too, goggled at our surroundings. “The only thing missing is a harp and some feathery wings,” she gasped.
    â€œCheck it. There”—Jameson pointed to an ornate, golden harp sitting in a corner like a decorative fern—“and there,” he said, nodding his chin toward a downy pair of oversized angel wings mounted above the crystal bar. His expression remained inscrutable, but I heard the suppressed distaste in his tone.
    â€œI don’t suppose there’s a dart board with white feathered darts?” Des asked hopefully, and I motioned for her to shush.
    â€œDarts?” Jameson asked in surprise.
    Ignoring my “zip your lips” hand signals, Des said. “You should see Aly. She can beat anyone. I’ve tried
convincing her she could play her way into a fortune because no one would suspect her of being a dart shark, but she’s too nice.”
    Jameson turned to me with raised brows. “Really?”
    â€œMy dad taught me.” I gave a demure shrug. “It’s a hidden talent.”
    Des spun on her heels to get a slow, 360 view of the club. “I can’t decide if this is my worst nightmare or a dream come true I never knew I had.”
    â€œIt’s … it’s … ” I stammered, unable to decide between “outrageous” and “profane.”
    â€œMine,” a voice finished.
    Dakota!
    â€œWelcome to my club,” he said as he brushed a warm kiss on my cheek and then bent to do the same to Des.
    Confession—I felt torn between wanting to sigh out loud and flinching because I still felt rattled over what had happened at the photo shoot. Not surprisingly, Dakota looked perfectly normal now. Yet I couldn’t shake a residual unease.
    Glancing at Jameson, my resentment flared. Would I even be having these doubts about Dakota if not for him? Probably not.
    â€œYou own Chastity? ” Des stopped herself with a giggle-snort. “Rephrase … This club is yours?” She openly appraised the snug white jeans and Dolce & Gabbana dress shirt with black trim that Dakota was wearing.
    â€œYep.” He shoved his fists in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “It’s one of my favorite investments.” He proudly soaked in the celestial sexiness before giving Des an impish wink. “And a fun poke at the otherworldly darkness of Paranormal PI.”
    It certainly was the antithesis of his show.
    â€œAren’t you a clever beast?” Des said in a flirty tone.
    I could swear Jameson barked a “ha!” and then covered it with a coughing fit. “Sorry,” he finally said, clearing his throat. “Think I need a drink.”
    â€œGood idea, bro,” Dakota said, slapping him on the shoulder. He led us up the stairs to his private, unoccupied sitting area and we sank into a plush, U-shaped sofa. Surely a cloud would feel just as fluffy and decadent.
    Des artfully arranged her retro skirt, with its tulle fullness, around her so Dakota could sit close. His gaze strayed to the ample cleavage peeking out of her push-up corset bodice. “You girls look amazing,” he said, encompassing us both in the compliment even though his eyes never strayed from my BFF.
    Des gave a demure “thank you,” and I had a gut “uh-oh” reaction. The warning sirens shrieked even louder when Dakota wrapped his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her closer to his side. Joy burst across Des’s face and her body oozed against him like hot candle wax.
    Houston, we have a big ole freakin’ problem.
    It was one thing for her to crush on Dakota, another for her to fantasize “what if,” and an entirely different
matter for her to actually succumb to his much older, much more