Starstruck - Book Two by Gemma Brooks Page A

steaming hot and filled my
nostrils with the smell of baked leather and new car scent. I climbed in and
buckled up as he loaded our things in the back.
     
    “No driver?” I teased him, trying to break the awkward
silence.
     
    “Everyone drives themselves out here,” he said. “This isn’t
New York.”
     
    “I was teasing,” I said. I almost reached down into my purse
to pull out my phone out of habit, but I stopped myself. It wasn’t the right
time, and I needed to be present.
     
    He aggressively pulled out of the airport parking lot and
headed straight for the freeway where we merged and spent the next hour
battling stop and go traffic. I’d never seen so many cars in my entire life,
but none of it seemed to daunt Hudson. He was used to it.
     
    “Hudson,” I said as I finally broke the silence an hour
later. “I’m here with you, and I don’t regret this.”
     
    He turned towards me and looked me deeply in the eyes for a
second before reluctantly reaching his hand over and resting it in my lap.
     
    “I won’t lie. This scares the shit out of me,” I said with a
nervous laugh. “But I’m here.”
     
    I interlaced our fingers together and he gave my hand a good
squeeze, still saying nothing.
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 2
 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Hudson turned off a busy road and towards a residential
neighborhood. Signs indicated we were in Brentwood.
     
    “Is this where you live?” I asked.
     
    He nodded.
     
    “I would’ve taken you as more of an ocean kind of guy,” I
said. “I figured you’d be right on the water.”
     
    “I have another place in Malibu,” he said. “But this is my
primary residence.”
     
    We drove under a canopy of thick, tree lined streets and rode
past low lying houses that were hidden behind tall, private gates. It was
nothing short of beautiful and unlike anything I’d ever seen back home in Iowa.
     
    He turned into a narrow driveway surrounded by thick shrubs
and clicked a button near his visor. The private gate opened to let us through
and we pulled forward onto a paved driveway.
     
    The outside of his house was covered in white stucco and
topped with a red tiled roof. Palm trees and various green shrubs lined his
property, providing the perfect amount of shade. A bubbling fountain next to
his front door served as a nice resting spot for two little brown birds, and
his grass was manicured and lush.
     
    “Here we are,” he said as he gently placed his Range Rover
into park.
     
    I couldn’t take my eyes off his beautiful property. It was
so simple yet so private and serene. It was exactly the kind of place I
imagined someone famous living.
     
    I climbed out and headed back to help with the luggage, but
Hudson did it all. I didn’t have to lift a finger. He rolled our luggage
towards his garage and entered some code to open the door. We walked in through
the garage entry and stepped into the most luxurious kitchen I’d ever laid eyes
on.
     
    Marble counter tops, staggered white cabinets, and some sort
of glass backsplash all contrasted against the dark, Jacobean wood floors. A
fresh basket of fruit sat neatly on the center of the oversized island while a
large flower arrangement took center stage on the nearby kitchen table. I’d
never seen anything like it before.
     
    Across from his kitchen was a family room with floor to
ceiling built in shelving and an enormous flat screen TV. Oversized furniture
was arranged ever so perfectly for both conversation and relaxation.
     
    Behind the family room were floor to ceiling sliding glass
doors that led out to a covered patio and the most beautiful pool.
     
    “You okay?” Hudson asked. He had probably noticed I was
slightly in shock.
     
    “Yeah,” I said with a smile. “It’s just all so beautiful.”
     
    “I’ll be right back,” he said as he rolled our bags down the
hall.
     
    I leaned up against the big kitchen island and ran my
fingers along the smooth, cool marble. Every vein was