He was hollering and laughing, and I was reminded of the way I’d felt suddenly when he’d asked for milk the night before. Like he was a guy who didn’t feel he had to be a grownup all the time. Like he knew how to have fun. When he switched off the engine in front of the tent, I was still laughing, and it helped ease some of the strange tension I’d been feeling around this man.
This movie star.
This hot new boyfriend of my sister’s.
We unloaded the tables and popped them up, not worrying too much about where they got placed. The caterers would arrange things. I headed back to the door of the tent when we were done. Ryan had gone out a second before, and I shot a final glance over my shoulder at the space to make sure it was all still intact after sitting out here all night. I should have been looking where I was going, because I bumped into a solid form in the doorway. Ryan had been standing there, watching me.
“Woah,” he laughed, his hands catching me by the arms, steadying me.
Walking while looking in the other direction was not one of my advanced-level skills, evidently.
I spun, and suddenly I was two inches away from him, his hands on my arms and our faces close enough that I could feel his breath on my forehead. All the rushing blood and butterflies I’d managed to banish while we’d been setting up tables came slamming back into me, making me feel giddy and warm.
“Sorry. Thanks,” I breathed. My mind spun deliriously, but at the same time, a calm overtook me—a focused calm that had me staring at Ryan’s lips, feeling them pull me near despite my best intentions.
He stared at me, his blue eyes darkening and something in his face changing from a question to an answer.
His hands slid from my arms to my waist, his big fingers wrapping around me, his thumbs slipping low over my belly. Warmth spread through me at his touch, and those intense blue eyes burned as they stared into mine.
As if in a dream, he angled his head down slowly until our lips were centimeters apart.
I didn’t breathe. I didn’t move. I didn’t think.
Until I did.
I took a step back, forcing my body out of his reach, away from the magnetic pull of his orbit. This was not some fantasy. Ryan was my sister’s boyfriend, and my sister had been hurt enough. Plus, I was about as far from my sister as a guy could get. No one was interested in us both. It didn’t happen. Which meant I was definitely losing my mind.
I narrowed my eyes at Ryan. He hadn’t been about to kiss me, clearly. Had he? What the hell was happening?
I took a deep breath. “I’m uh …” I could barely form words. I shook my head. “Okay, well. Thanks,” I pushed past him out the door and seated myself on the tractor. I needed to escape, get some space to think and regain control of my traitorous body. I’d just started the engine when I felt the whole machine jolt beneath me. Ryan had jumped into the cart and he was grinning again.
With no idea what the hell had just happened, I engaged the gas and drove us back to the barn. We spent the next hour loading chairs and running them across the lawn in the tractor. Neither of us mentioned the strange moment in the doorway or said anything else, and I pointedly kept my eyes and body focused in one direction to keep from crashing into him again.
By the time we finished up and Ryan told me he’d meet me in the kitchen to bake the cake after he took a quick run, I had almost convinced myself I’d imagined the whole thing.
And I hoped I had, because if I hadn’t imagined it, that meant I’d almost kissed my sister’s boyfriend, and my sister didn’t need anyone else in her life being shitty at the moment. It would also mean her boyfriend had almost kissed me.
And that was pretty shitty too.
Chapter Seven
Ryan
I ran along the road leading back out of the Manchester property, my mind reeling. On one hand—the primal side of me that had just been close to kissing a woman I had a very chemical attraction to—I was stoked.
Being close to Tess was heady and exciting, and imagining her body beneath my hands, her sharp wit and sparkling eyes close to me, it only made me want so much more of her. There was something intense and old and complicated in the air around me and Tess, something demanding to be explored.
But on the other hand, I’d made a commitment to her sister. And while the relationship was fake, my promise was not. I was a man of my word in a world where those seemed pretty rare. I wanted to be a man of honor, even if everyone else in the world thought that was old fashioned.
Even if our game of pretend was stupid, there was something in it for me. And blowing this would mean potentially blowing my chance at reinvigorating my flagging career, and gaining the financial security I needed to take care of my father. And exposing Juliet to the ugly rumors and speculation that had surrounded her since her sudden divorce. That didn’t seem very honorable.
My feet beat a steady rhythm down the unfamiliar road as my heart and lungs pounded along. Lush greenery arched overhead, and a surprising variety of critters scattered as I passed—fat little groundhogs nosing at the edges of the road, more birds than I’d ever be interested in identifying, rabbits hopping beneath the towering trees, and a few deer who paused in the road to watch me approach before loping gracefully into the protection of the dense woods beyond. I was completely charmed by Maryland. I’d thought this backwoods location might be boring, but instead it was full of surprises.
Not the least of which was Tess Manchester.
I continued down the road, picking up my pace until my mind could do little but focus on the run. Sweat trickled over my skin and my lungs screamed, and finally I reached more water—by way of a wooded property that led to a sloping sandy beach at the end of the road. I stood for a time on the beach, watching the water lap at the shore as the sun reflected off the liquid surface in flashing diamonds.
By the time I’d returned to the big house, I’d settled with myself. I had to behave myself while we were here, and that meant being true to Juliet and our arrangement. But I also planned to get to know Tess—through conversation only—in an effort to see what this thing was that was undeniably between us. I’d follow the rules, which would mean ignoring the driving demands of instinct every time I was near Tess, but I could do that. I might have decided this once before, but this time I meant it.
I could absolutely do that. Besides, I was not about to break a promise. I knew too well what it felt like to have promises broken, and I wasn’t going to do that to anyone else.
I let myself back into the big house, nodding at the security guards stationed by the door.
“Hey,” one of them said, stopping me from walking right by.
“Hey,” I replied, turning to smile at the guy. He looked a bit like a regular guy until you noticed the muscles bulging beneath the dark T-shirt he wore. “It’s Jace, right?”
He nodded, and leaned his head toward the other guy. “That’s Chad.”
“Thanks for being here, guys. Looking out for us.” I wasn’t used to round-the-clock security, but it felt weird to just accept their presence and not acknowledge it.
“We’re here for Juliet,” Jace said, his voice deep and a little bit terrifying.
“Right, yeah,” I said, feeling sheepish now. I hadn’t been implying that I was so important they were here for me. But I wasn’t surprised these goons thought I was just another entitled Hollywood asshole. “Just… thanks.”
Jace sighed, and Chad muttered, “any time.” Then Jace said, “Juliet was looking for you a while ago.”
Worry pricked inside me that I might be messing up on my promise already, and I thanked Jace and hurried through the door.
I went upstairs to shower and to find Juliet. She was in the room across the hall, pacing and talking into her phone. I waved and pantomimed that I was going to shower. And I should say here, that while I am an excellent actor, a shower pantomime is particularly difficult.
She wrinkled her nose at me, her eyebrows dipping over those gray-blue eyes. “What?�
�� she mouthed.
I upped my shower-acting game, picking up an imaginary bottle of shampoo, squeezing a bit into my hand and then washing my hair, whistling all the while.
See? I can act, no matter what the critics say.
Her eyes cleared in understanding and she smiled, mouthing, “got it.”
When I was done, I went back to her room to see what she’d needed while I’d been out running, but her door was closed. I considered knocking—we were definitely nowhere near the just-barge-in stage. But I wasn’t sure a closed door was really an invitation. I raised my hand to rap my knuckles on the wood, but I thought I heard her moan softly in the room beyond, and my heart went out to her. Was she crying? She’d had a rough time lately. If she was taking a nap, or even having a cry, she definitely deserved it, and I wasn’t going to interrupt.
I wandered down to the kitchen, and I felt the smile cover my face and work its way through the rest of me when I spotted Tess at the counter, wrapped in a pink apron and leaning on her forearms on the counter watching a YouTube video about making big cakes.
She had gotten out a few oversized pans, and they were lined up on the counter.
“We better prepare these bad boys,” I told her.
I saw her shoulders stiffen as she pressed pause on the video and straighten up. She turned to me with a grin that actually made my knees wobble, then looked back at the lined-up pans, lifting a finger to shake at them. “Okay, pans. Here’s what’s going to happen. First, we’re putting cake batter in you and you’ll need to hold it all inside, okay? Then we’ll be sticking you in a hot oven and hoping for the best. This is going to be an important cake, so don’t mess it up.”
I stifled the laugh that wanted to come out, along with the urge to take her in my arms, to push my nose into the hair at the back of her neck. I chuckled, waiting until she looked up at me for approval.
“Not exactly what I meant, but that was a good first step.”
She raised her palms as if to say, “I did my best. They’re as prepared as they can be.”
“I meant by greasing them. Or better yet, lining them with parchment paper.”
“I don’t think we have any papyrus around here,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously?”
“Okay, fine. I know what parchment paper is.” She went to the pantry and came back with a big roll of it. “I use it for baking fish.”
“That sounds interesting,” I said, taking it from her. “Maybe you can teach me that sometime.”
I refrained from slapping myself. I shouldn’t be making future plans or trying to give her the idea I wanted to make plans with her. I could spend some time with her, ask some questions, get to know her. Not make plans.
“Sure,” she said, and I heard the hesitation in her voice too.
We prepared the pans, buttering, flouring and lining them, and there was a quiet companionship between us that I found myself trying to soak up and savor.
It was an odd thing, I realized. Being a celebrity meant there were millions of people in the world who “knew” me—but I spent much of my time alone, and even more of it feeling lonely. It was rare to have a quiet moment shared with another person, to be able to enjoy something simple, something pure.
Tess didn’t push me to talk, and together we measured, mixed and poured, and before long, we had the first of the pans in the oven.
“Where did you learn to bake?” she asked as we cleaned up.
I sighed. Every story about my past was lined with landmines. How much did I want to share with her? I started off slowly. “I didn’t. I just started doing it after my mom left. It reminded me of her, I think. She used to bake. Kind of taught myself.”
Tess’s face changed, her lips pressing slightly into a frown. “Did you bake with her? Before?” Her tone showed that she wasn’t going to press, wasn’t going to ask why Mom had left. Relief wound its way through me, but so did a vague disappointment. Why did I want to tell Tess everything?
“We baked a little. Cooked, too.” We sat down, neither of us verbalizing our intention to do so. But as with all things with Tess, I was finding we seemed to agree naturally, to be in the same mental space, maybe. “She wasn’t a very happy person, I guess. So I don’t have a lot of memories of doing things together. A few.”
“And cooking is one of them? So maybe that’s why you like to do it?”
I took a deep breath, let it out. This wasn’t stuff I was used to talking about. The facts, maybe. But not my feelings about those facts. “Maybe. I never really thought about it.”
She nodded. I wondered if she was contemplating what we had in common—we’d both lost mothers. Though I thought Juliet had told me they’d lost both their parents.
“What about you?” I asked her, realizing she might stand up and walk away. I was asking a very personal question of a woman I barely knew. “Do you have happy memories? Of your parents?”
Her eyes met mine then, and I felt myself leaning toward her. I wanted something I couldn’t define, something she made me feel. A sensation ran through me I could only classify as yearning, and I wondered if I’d ever actually felt it before.
“I do,” she said, and a little smile crossed her lips, brightening the golden eyes. “A lot. Me, Juliet, my parents. We were happy,” she said. She didn’t volunteer more, and I didn’t push, and for a while we sat silently. I thought about my mom, and imagined maybe Tess was thinking of her own childhood.
“So when you’re working,” I began. “You kayak? Juliet said you were an adventure guide.”
She nodded, the eyes brightening again. “That’s right. Kayaks, canoes, stand up paddleboards. If you can do it on the water, I’m on it.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Anything? Water skiing? Snorkeling?”
“Yes and yes.” She rose to my challenge, her chest pushing forward as she crossed her arms.
“What else?”
A laugh escaped her. “Name it. We just started doing yoga on stand up paddleboards.”
“That sounds more like swimming.” I imagined myself attempting a yoga pose and toppling off the board into the water.
“That’s why we wear life jackets,” she said, smiling. “Want to try it?”
I wanted to try pretty much anything that would find me with Tess Manchester wearing a bathing suit. “Sure.”
She grinned, but then her face dropped. “We’ve got these cakes to finish,” she said. “And by the time they’re done, it’ll be getting dark.”
My heart jumped a bit at her clear disappointment. Did Tess want to spend time with me the way I found myself looking for reasons to be with her? “I’d love to try it sometime,” I said, realizing I was making plans again. My stomach saved me, offering a distraction with an audible growl.
“Maybe we should eat something.”
“I’m not super hungry,” she said, “but I can find something for you.”
“I’m always hungry.” I grinned at her. “I can hunt for a snack if that’s okay. You don’t have to go to any trouble.”
“No, you sit. I have some crab cakes in here, I think.” Tess was already pulling a plate from the refrigerator.
I sat up straighter. Yum. “Crab cakes?”
Tess brought the plate my way to show me the tasty round mounds and my mouth began watering. “Did you make these?” I asked her.
“I make them every week. Gran likes to have them pretty regularly. Do they look okay to you?”
“They look amazing.”
She heated them for a minute or two in the microwave, and I watched her move around the kitchen, trying not to be obvious. She was graceful and strong, and I wanted to know everything about her. After a moment, Tess put the plate down and then sat across from me, watching me as I began to eat.
“This is amazing,” I told Tess, pointing my fork at the crab cake on my plate.
“Well, it is what we’re known for,” she said, her voice almost a mocking song. “You come to Maryland, you
get crabs.”
I raised an eyebrow, unable to keep the grin from my face. “That should be the state motto.”
She laughed, and a blush crawled up her neck, spreading over the line of her delicate jaw. When she laughed, it was a breathy sound that pulled at something inside me and made my stomach jump. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
I chuckled and kept eating, but sensed she had something else to say. I glanced at her, a silent invitation to talk.
“So this afternoon,” she began. “In the tent …”
She was going to ask me about those few heady seconds when she’d been so close I could just catch that delicate jasmine scent coming from her skin, when I’d let my eyes drop to her plump pink lips, slid my hands around her little waist, and actually thought about kissing her. I’d been a second away from letting instinct take charge—when my better judgment had kicked in. Or maybe Tess had stepped away.
Either way, I was not here to romance hot little sisters. I was here to get the boost being associated with Juliet would give my career. I was here to be her costar in the promised film being cast when we returned. Even if my heart had begun trying to elbow my mind out of the way to take charge.
“Yeah, so, glad I could help with that,” I said quickly, hoping she’d go with it.
She shook her head, her adorable brow wrinkling and a breathy laugh coming from her that made me wonder what other breathy sounds I could get her to make. “Okay.” She frowned, seemed to decide something. “Yeah. Thanks for helping.” She stared at her cup for a long minute.
Then she set her teacup on the table and peered up at me from beneath dark lashes. Her almost ebony hair was pulled back into a loose high ponytail and I couldn’t help imagining my hand wrapped in that dark hair, my body pressed up against hers. “Look, Ryan. I’m not a movie star,” she continued. “I don’t live the lifestyle you and my sister do, and I don’t know what’s typical in Hollywood, California. I’m more familiar with Hollywood, Maryland, and—”
Happily Ever His Page 6