Changing Roles

by Melanie Moreland

  Closer. So much closer.

  So much deeper.

  “Liam…oh God…please,” I pleaded.

  “Shelby…Jesus…baby…”

  He sat up, his chest heaving. His hair was wild from my fingers. His eyes were dark and hooded, his lust clearly illustrated by the straining material of his sleep pants. “I want. God, Shelby, I want—”

  “Tell me,” I urged. I wanted the same thing. I knew I did.

  He dropped my leg and bent down, his face close, his eyes earnest. “I want… I want you to marry me.”

  I blinked.

  That wasn’t exactly what I wanted right now.

  “What?”

  LIAM

  She was blinking at me, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright with desire, and her hair spread out like a dark ribbon against the pillow. She was so beautiful, it made my heart ache. “What?” she asked, confused.

  Fuck.

  It was the sushi all over again. I had cocked it up.

  I had wanted to ask her all evening—planned on asking her. I wanted to show up at the interview the next day with her as my fiancée—I’d even had the ring in my pocket all night. Mum was spending the evening with Douglas, so we were alone. I knew Shelby would hate a big production and would want a proposal done privately. It was the perfect time to ask her. Us—here—in the place we fell in love. But I couldn’t find the right words and never seemed to find the right moment.

  And judging from the look on Shelby’s face right now, this wasn’t the right one either.

  I hung my head, cursing.

  I looked up, meeting her bewildered gaze. I brushed a tender kiss to her forehead, grateful she didn’t fling me off and stomp away. “Sorry, Beaker. Sometimes I feel so much when I’m with you, the words just…burst out.”

  I began to move away, but she tightened her hand on my arm. “So, you didn’t mean it?”

  “Of course I meant it. I love you, Shelby. I want to marry you. I want you by my side at every event. I want kids and laughter and your smile across the table every day. I want it all with you.”

  I sat back with a grimace. “I wanted to ask you all night. I was just so bloody nervous, I couldn’t.”

  “So, you waited until we were…”

  I looked down at OJ, who was still standing proud and erect, knowing Shelby’s pussy was inches away, and I huffed out a groan.

  “Yes. OJ thought it would be more romantic if he got involved in the asking. Because nothing says romance more than a ginormous erection bobbing in your face when asking the woman you love to marry you.”

  I was rewarded with a smile for my inane explanation, and I shrugged in resignation. “I cocked it up, Beaker.”

  Her lips quirked as if she was trying not to laugh.

  “Ginormous, Liam?”

  “It’s a word.” I indicated my hard-as-steel erection. “And accurate.”

  “Been saving that one for a while?”

  Beyond glad she wasn’t furious at me, I grinned in relief. “A bit.”

  Shelby sat up, her face close to mine. “Ask me again, Oscar.”

  Relief, happiness, and pure joy tore through me as I reached over and grabbed the small box I had stuffed under my pillow, pressing it into her hand. I cupped her sweet, loving face, tenderly stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. “Shelby, my darling girl. I want you to marry me. Be mine. Let me be your life. You’re already mine.” I drew in a deep breath. “Please.”

  She sighed, the sound low. “Yes.”

  I opened the box and gently slid the ring onto her finger. It was still slightly swollen from the break, but the ring was perfect for her. The same way she was perfect for me.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  Bright blue eyes shimmered in the dim light. “I love you.”

  I pressed my lips to hers. “And I, you.”

  We fell back onto the pillows as the kiss deepened.

  “I think you have some unfinished business to attend to,” she whispered as she bit down on my earlobe, arching her body up into mine. She slipped her hands into my waistband, tugging it down with impatient fingers. “With your ginormous OJ.”

  “Oh, baby, you are right. So bloody right about that.”

  OJ wept for joy. He loved this woman.

  She wrapped a leg around me, drawing me close to her warmth.

  God, I loved this woman.

  The interview was almost done. It had been decent, and as if sensing her nervousness, Tony had mostly stuck to directing his inquiries to me first. The questions were fair, honest, and I answered them all in the same manner. I did get rather worked up over the issue of the paps and their intrusiveness in the lives of people, including myself. Shelby had to squeeze my hand more than once when we discussed the day of the “incident,” as Tony referred to it.

  “You seem almost confused by the public’s interest in you.” Tony addressed Shelby.

  “I am,” she admitted. “I don’t even understand their fascination with Liam.”

  “He’s a celebrity.”

  Shelby pursed her lips. “He’s an actor. That’s his job.” She lifted a shoulder. “He can’t really shoot a gun or fit his car into a tiny spot with some fancy brake work and the twist of a steering wheel. He doesn’t slide out of bed in the morning wearing a tux and walk around the house all day in character, quoting romantic lines and being funny.”

  “What does he do?” Tony queried.

  “What other men do. He wakes up and drives me crazy for most of the day, disrupting my schedule, wanting to be fed, asking where his glasses or keys are.” She met my gaze with a wink. “Stealing cookies or cupcakes when he isn’t supposed to.”

  I leaned close. “I steal kisses too,” I murmured, brushing my mouth over hers.

  Color flooded her cheeks, and she pushed me away. “The point is, he’s human. Not the characters he plays—he’s just Liam. Why it’s fascinating when he drives to the store or goes out on a date, I don’t understand. And I really don’t get the fascination with following me around the grocery store, seeing what kind of peanut butter he prefers.” She looked right at the camera and winked. “Jif, by the way.”

  Tony laughed, and I joined him. “Shelby’s right. I’m an arse, and, frankly a bit of a git. It takes a lot of work to make me look smooth. According to Shelby, the suave thing is unattainable unless I’m acting.”

  “You two certainly seem down to earth.”

  Shelby lifted a shoulder. “We’re just two people.”

  “There must be something special about him,” Tony urged. “Something that made you fall in love with him.”

  “His heart,” Shelby replied promptly. “Liam has the biggest heart I know. And although he doesn’t slide out of bed wearing a tux, I love the smile he gives me when he wakes up.”

  “Why?” Tony asked.

  Shelby looked at me for a moment. “Because it’s my smile. He has hundreds of them, and a lot of them are what the public sees. But in private, the smile I get is the one that tells me how much I’m loved. It’s the most special one of them all. And in the mornings, when he’s still drowsy and not ready to face the world, he still has that sweet, wonderful smile for me.” She looked at the camera with a shrug. “Maybe before you read the rags and all the lies they print, you should remember the person they’re talking about is real. Not a character.” She laid her hand on my arm. “He’s someone’s son. Part of a real, breathing family. Friend. Human first, actor second. He acts for a living, and he gives it his all. He doesn’t deserve the lies. None of them do. They give so much of themselves to entertain. Let them have a little privacy in return.”

  I had no choice but to kiss her again—camera or no.

  She was bloody brilliant.

  When Tony addressed me, I liked being able to confirm that Shelby was divorced, and would have been sooner if the wanker hadn’t been hiding and living under an assumed name while using the money he had stolen from her to do so.

  “S
helby is older than you,” he stated, lifting an eyebrow. “Does that concern you?”

  “No.”

  “Hollywood is known for valuing youth above all else.”

  “Then it’s a good thing it’s not Hollywood I’m in love with,” I retorted. “I didn’t fall in love with her age. I fell in love with her soul. Her mind. Her tenderness.” I winked. “Her turkey sandwiches and how sexy she looks in red helped, of course.”

  Tony chuckled. “So the future doesn’t bother you?”

  “It would if she weren’t a part of it,” I said. “My mum is older than my da. Never made a bloody bit of difference to them or to me growing up. Shelby is thirty-three. I’m twenty-eight. Next month, I’ll be twenty-nine, and it’s four years. Makes no difference. As my mum says, it’s a number. When Shelby’s fifty-five and I’m fifty, it won’t even make anyone blink. It shouldn’t now either.”

  “Good way to look at it.”

  I held Shelby’s hand. “It’s the only way to look at it. Bottom line is, if it were reversed and I were older than her, we wouldn’t even be having this discussion. I’d be patted on the back for snagging a younger woman. We need to change our mind-sets.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “It sounds as if Peter Pan is growing up.”

  I rolled my eyes. I hated that nickname, although at one time, I deserved it. “About bloody time, I think.”

  He asked a few more questions about our beginning, and I gave a witty rendition of how we fell in love, leaving out most of the idiotic stuff I had done over the course of our relationship.

  When Tony asked about the ring on her finger, Shelby blushed, and we confirmed it was what it looked like, and we were engaged. He asked her how I proposed, and I held my breath, hoping the words “He did it while trying to fuck me with his ginormous erection” didn’t leave her mouth.

  She smiled softly as she answered. “In his own unique way, Tony. As only Liam could.”

  “Did you do anything to celebrate?”

  Her lips quirked. “I had OJ,” she quipped and started to chuckle.

  Tony looked at me. “OJ?”

  I nodded, trying not to laugh. “Nothing says love better than a big shot of OJ, Tony.”

  His brow furrowed. “The party-boy actor celebrates his big moments now with orange juice? That’s a little, ah, different.”

  I had to roll my eyes. The press had decided I was a party boy and dubbed me as such. It was never accurate.

  “We have OJ as often as possible,” Shelby assured him. “Liam hand-squeezes it for me.”

  I wrapped my arm around her, chuckling. “I do.”

  Tony looked confused. “You take your OJ seriously.”

  Shelby started to laugh. “You have no idea.”

  I grinned as I realized something, watching her amusement as we shared our secret joke. Everett was right; I did make her silly. And I loved that fact. I made her laugh, and she made me…better. In everything.

  He shrugged. “Well, whatever floats your boat.”

  Shelby laughed harder and I joined her, pulling her closer as I chortled into her hair, knowing I had found the perfect woman for me.

  Tony looked at us like we were nuts.

  And we were—for each other.

  24

  Liam

  Six Months Later

  I walked out of wardrobe, shoving material into my bag, anxious to get home. We’d done an overnight shoot, and Shelby had stayed behind. One night away became two, and the sap I had become—I missed her. I hated being away from her now at all.

  Not looking where I was going, I ran right into Douglas, who shook his head as he stared at the item I was carrying.

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Again, Liam?”

  I smirked at him. “What can I say? My lass loves me in a kilt.”

  He groaned. “Because of your girl’s fetish, I now have to listen to wardrobe screaming about another missing kilt?”

  “Nope. I had Abby order me my own. I even had her find the McKinnon family tartan. Nan would love it.” I grinned widely. “Shelby will love it.”

  “No Wright?”

  “Sadly, no, but Mum will love I found her family’s tartan.”

  He snorted. “Yep. Aunty Liz will be stoked to know her family tartan is adding to your sex life.”

  I winked at him. “She’ll do anything for some wee bairns,” I drawled in my best Scottish accent.

  “Jesus, Liam. You only married Shelby two weeks ago.”

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “No time like the present. Shelby isn’t getting any younger—her words, not mine.”

  He stopped me as I went past him. “Really, Liam?”

  I nodded. “Really, Douglas. Me, a dad. Can you imagine?”

  He chuckled. “Heaven help that child.”

  I turned around. “They’ll have you to steer them straight.”

  “Too right. Now get home to your wife.”

  I grinned as I looked down at the heavy band I now wore on my left hand. Given to me by Shelby.

  My wife.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop smiling when I heard those words. Sitting in the car, I thought about our time here and the day I married my Shelby.

  Sitting on the warm grass at the back of the house, we looked out over the water. I nuzzled Shelby’s neck. “Happy?” I asked quietly.

  “Yes,” she hummed. “It’s lovely here. Peaceful.”

  By peaceful, I knew she meant private. Since we had arrived in England a couple of months ago, life had been different. Filming was going well, and for the most part, we were ignored by the locals. People let us come and go, smiling at us when we would appear in one of the pubs for dinner or drinks, offering a warm greeting, and then letting us be. We made this our base, staying at hotels when needed to shoot other scenes, but coming back here in between. We both loved it. We took full advantage of the privacy, strolling the sights, visiting with friends and family, and simply enjoying being us. Liam and Shelby. Oscar and Beaker. We avoided London and other big cities, but the couple of times we had been there, we had managed to slip in and out under the radar. But we both preferred the quiet of the small towns.

  Shelby had healed well. The scar that ran just under her hairline would forever be a reminder of how close I came to losing her. Her arm was back to a hundred percent, and away from the pressures and scrutiny of LA, she blossomed. Some days, she visited the set, sitting and watching as I worked. Other days, she spent with Mum, who was a permanent fixture, it seemed, and Caroline who had arrived and decided there was so much beauty here, she could happily stay and work to be close to Douglas and Shelby. So, she did. Dad came to join us when he could, and I loved having my family around. Everett and Cassidy had both been over and were coming back in a couple of weeks. I knew Shelby missed her brother and was looking forward to his visit.

  An idea that had been taking hold surfaced as I held her close. I knew this was a good time to ask her.

  “Shelby,” I murmured, suddenly nervous again.

  She twisted in my arms. “What is it?”

  “I want to get married.”

  She smiled at me. “I think we already established that, Oscar.” Holding up her left hand, she winked. “I have proof.”

  “I meant now. Actually do it. Here.”

  Her eyes widened. “Here?”

  I nodded. “My family is here. So is Caroline. Ev is coming over with Cassidy. I’m sure I could convince Lily to make a trip as well. Mum and Caroline would help, and we both want it simple. We could arrange it.”

  “What about the press? What if word leaked out?”

  I shook my head. “I already talked about it with Mum. It won’t be big since neither of us wants that.” I grinned. “In fact, we won’t tell anyone. We’ll just invite them for dinner and surprise them all.”

  “Where?”

  “Right here.” I indicated the large piece of land we were sitting on by the water. “We can rent a marquee, have the pub cater a dinner after, and say
our vows in front of the people who mean the most to us. Exactly what you said you wanted. A quiet, happy day. No fuss.”

  I stopped talking, letting her think it over.

  “You’d be okay with something simple?”

  I brushed back the hair blowing across her face. “I’d take you into town and marry you right now if you’d let me.” Then I smiled. “But me mum would kick me arse if I did.”

  She giggled, knowing how true that was.

  “How casual?”

  I slid my hands over her bare calves. “Whatever you want. You can wear one of your pretty skirts if that’s what you want. But if you want a fancy dress, I’m good with it. I’ll even wear a tie for you.” I winked at her. Since we had gotten here, casual had been the look for both of us. With the heavy costumes I wore daily, I was happy to be in jeans and T-shirts for the most part, when not filming. Shelby had taken to wearing skirts and billowy blouses, which drove me insane with lust when I saw her. She had no idea how sexy she was to me. More than once, I had to take a break filming when I saw her appear on set, watching me. My trailer had been well used as I shagged her senseless a few times, my mouth covering hers to keep it private. Although the smirks from people around the set led me to believe it wasn’t the case; I chose to ignore them. I didn’t want Shelby’s visits to stop.

  “Maybe just a suit?” she mumbled against my throat; her lips moving over my skin. “You don’t need a tie,” she added.