by Lizzie Shane
“Fine. Not The Taming of the Shrew. Some other opposites attract story.”
Alex frowned over at where Ty was busy charming her aunts en masse. Jade sat on the floor with Kendall, engrossed in Kendall’s tablet, though she glanced up frequently to keep Andi and Ty in sight. Considering Jade had been dropped on a doorstep yesterday, Andi made a point to stay where Jade could easily spot her since she’d returned to the great room after the strategy session in her mother’s craft room. Andi would never have left her alone in a room with a bunch of strangers if she’d been thinking of anything other than her panic. Though, admittedly, she and Ty had been strangers to Jade just yesterday.
The girl was remarkably adaptable.
“I didn’t think he was your type.”
Andi tuned back in to what her brother was saying. “He isn’t,” Andi admitted. “But he’s not as shallow as he seems. He’s actually pretty great underneath the celebrity persona.” She didn’t even have to lie.
“I just don’t see how you fit,” Alex said, concern thick in his voice. “With Mark, you two made sense—”
“Alex.” The hard note in her voice cut him off, but her brother pushed on.
“I know, things didn’t end the way you wanted and that ship has sailed—”
“You think? Now that he has two kids with his new wife?”
“I was only trying to say he’s more the kind of guy I could see you with.”
Andi felt tears pressing against the back of her eyes and swallowed them down. Her brothers had always looked up to Mark. They were so much younger it hadn’t seemed appropriate to confide in them about her marital troubles, so that idolization had stayed in place even through the divorce. Her parents knew the truth, but she couldn’t be mad at the boys for not knowing what she’d never told them—that six years ago Mark had kicked her when she was at her lowest and walked away without looking back.
The boys just figured it was one of those things. They’d gotten married young. Marriage was hard. Things didn’t always work out. End of story.
It wouldn’t do anyone any good to tell them the truth now. Even if she would take some vicious satisfaction in knocking Mark off the pedestal this town had built for him. If the truth would even knock him off. Most of the town would probably still be on his side, even if she told everyone what had happened. He was the golden boy. He could do no wrong.
“Just give Ty a chance,” she encouraged Alex. It was galling that her brothers liked Mark more than Ty—especially now that she was liking Ty more and more as he showed himself to be less and less like her ex.
“What are we giving Ty a chance to do?” a bright voice chirped at Alex’s elbow, as his bride-to-be appeared at his side, linking their arms.
Megan and Alex had been dating off and on since high school. She’d been head cheerleader and he’d been the school nerd, always with his nose in a book, but somehow the two of them had always worked. They’d broken up when they went to separate colleges, but after graduation they‘d both moved back—Megan to be a realtor and Alex to take a teaching position. They’d started dating again almost immediately and gotten engaged less than a month after their reunion, but they were so right for one another Andi didn’t worry for a second about the haste.
“Because I’ll give that man a chance to do anything he wants,” Megan teased now. “I can’t believe you brought the stud from Task Force One! I thought you hated each other.”
“I never hated him,” Andi insisted—realizing she’d probably come across a little too strongly in some of her venting to her family about Ty. “I realized he was a really good guy during this last film and decided to go for it. Besides, the people who make you the craziest are the hardest to resist,” she repeated, even though Alex hadn’t gone for that excuse.
She looked over at Ty. He was bending close to speak to her ninety-year-old grandmother, giving her the same smile he gave every woman he met. She’d warned him about the flirting, but that was just how Ty was wired. He loved women. He couldn’t help it. And when her grandmother giggled like a schoolgirl, it didn’t seem like such a bad thing.
“I see what you mean.”
Andi jerked out of her haze, looking back at Megan who was eyeing her knowingly. She felt her face heat and knew she must be blushing, but if she protested she’d ruin her own pretense. God, she was a terrible liar. She never should have attempted this.
“Oh! There’s Rachel!” Megan darted off in a rush of energy, as was her habit, but Alex hung behind, still eyeing Andi.
“Did you hire him?”
“What?”
“The actor. Did you hire him so you wouldn’t have to go stag in front of Mark? You didn’t RSVP with a plus one for the wedding.”
“Plans changed at the last minute. Besides we only started dating recently and I wasn’t sure I wanted to inflict my family on him. Or vice versa.” She eyed her grandmother, currently fluttering her lashes at Ty. “He doesn’t have to come with me to the wedding.” That was probably better anyway. Thinking on the fly, she added, “We’d thought he and Jade could stay at the cabin while I go to the family stuff—”
“No, no. It’s good. We’re happy to have him, but if you only brought him to save face—”
The accusation was close enough to the truth to make her hackles rise. “Ty Walker isn’t the kind of actor you can hire to impersonate your boyfriend. I can’t afford him. I brought him because we’re together.”
Alex still didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”
“I do. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go telling the whole family your theory.”
Suspicion moved across Alex’s face and Andi realized she’d pushed it too hard by asking him not to talk about it. Like she had something to hide.
Damn it. She wasn’t good at this stuff. Ty was the actor. She’d never been good at playing pretend. Reality had a nasty tendency to get in her way.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go collect my boyfriend. We still haven’t checked into our cabin and it’s getting late.”
Alex let her go without protest, but she could feel his eyes on her as she crossed the room to Ty.
Suddenly self-conscious, she approached the movie star. What should she do? Kiss him? Or would that look too staged? What would she do if she and Ty were really together?
She settled for putting her hand on his shoulder. “I see you’ve made another conquest.”
Her grandmother giggled delightedly. “Oh this young man. You have a charmer on your hands, Andrea.”
“And don’t I know it.” She looked down at Ty where he was seated on the couch beside her grandmother. “You about ready to go?”
“You can’t be leaving already,” Grandma Zella protested.
“We still have to check in at our cabin,” Andi explained. “And it’s getting late for Jade.”
It wasn’t really, not with the time zone change, but her grandmother immediately waved a hand, giving them permission to depart. “We’ll see you two lovebirds tomorrow.”
Ty stood, sliding his arm around Andi like it was the most natural thing in the world—and she fought the impulse to stiffen. They were a couple. This was how couples were. Touching. Comfortable. Even when every nerve cell in her body was electrified by the proximity to his hard, muscled side.
He bent his head toward her as they moved through the crowded room toward where she’d last seen Jade. “You okay?” he asked softly.
“My brother suspects,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.
Ty chuckled. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the world’s worst poker face?”
“We should come clean. I never should have said it. I didn’t want—”
“Hey.” He stopped them at the edge of the room. “Relax.” His knuckles bumped under her chin, lifting her face. “We’ve got this.”
And then he kissed her.
She’d probably seen him kiss a hundred women. Costars. On
e night stands. Those lips had seen a lot of mileage. He seemed, from the reactions he got, like a good kisser. She’d thought, when she considered kissing him for Alex’s benefit, that she would be awkward. Tense.
She was wrong on all counts.
Ty wasn’t a good kisser. He was freaking amazing. And she wasn’t awkward or tense. As soon as his lips touched hers it was like a knot inside her unraveled and all of her tension melted like a truffle’s warm chocolate center melting on her tongue.
He brushed her lips gently, soothingly, but somehow the touch sharpened every sense even as it soothed. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, but he did angle his head so that the touch shifted, growing somehow even sweeter. She’d never thought Ty Walker would be a sweet kisser, but damn. The man knew exactly how to make her want more.
He lifted his head, his eyes slumberous and warm. “Better?”
“Thank you,” she whispered—not even sure what she was thanking him for. Kissing her? Giving her brother something to counteract his suspicions? Making all of her worries fall away with a single touch of his lips?
“Anytime.”
Chapter Nine
Ty’s experience of the world beyond the greater Los Angeles metro area was distinctly limited. He’d grown up in one of the less affluent neighborhoods of Orange County where his mother worked as a housekeeper and he’d had ample opportunity to covet what the rich kids had. He’d managed to snag a scholarship to UCLA, where he’d studied his craft for exactly two years before dropping out to take a full time role on a daytime soap. Since embarking on his acting career, the vast majority of his roles had been filmed on Hollywood sound stages.
Unlike his daughter, Ty had been outside of the country exactly twice—once to Mexico for an indie film and once to London for a European premiere. He worked every chance he got—even his vacations were designed to maximize networking. So he’d been to the mountains only a handful of times.
The last “cabin” he’d stayed in was hotshot director Julius Reed’s Vail chalet—a three-story, five-bedroom A-frame with killer views of the mountains.
So when Andi said she’d rented a cabin for the week, he hadn’t expected this.
It was a shack. A small, wooden shack on a lake. So small, in fact, that the entire thing would probably have fit inside his great room. The porch would have been quaint—if it hadn’t been listing distinctly to the left and making him concerned about its structural soundness. The roof had a decided sag to it and the path that had been cleared through the snow to the woodpile made him worry that there might not be heat that didn’t involve fire-building.
Ty Walker had never built a fire in his life.
“This is it?” he asked as Andi parked in front of the cabin, the headlights illuminating the dubious structure in the dark. There were no streetlights in sight and with the woods climbing up on either side of them even the moon provided little light.
“I wasn’t expecting to be entertaining movie stars when I booked it,” she replied dryly.
He had pretty much invited himself along and since the entire town was booked up for the holidays, he couldn’t afford for her to decide he was more trouble than he was worth. Especially with Jade slumped over, asleep in the backseat. Just the thought of being left alone to take care of the girl made his throat close off with panic. “I’m sure it’s great inside,” he enthused.
Andi shot him a look. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
She shut off the engine and they climbed out of the car. She’d been quiet ever since they’d collected Jade, separating her from her new best friend with promises that the girls could see one another at the parade tomorrow. They hadn’t spoken on the drive from her parents’ house and he’d waited with a sleeping Jade in the car while Andi ran into the main lodge that rented out these cabins to check them in. He could practically see the walls going up around her—putting a safe distance between them ever since that kiss.
He shouldn’t have kissed her.
He knew that. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. A freaking brilliant idea at the time. But now as she grew pricklier than ever, he regretted the impulse. He’d wanted to help her sell the story. But if he was honest, he’d also just wanted to kiss her. To learn what she tasted like. To see how she kissed.
And now he couldn’t stop wanting to do it again. Though Andi had made it perfectly clear she would never want him like that. She might think he was sexy, but she also knew she could do better. And he knew it too. Like Laura had known.
They unloaded the bags from the back of the SUV and Andi roused Jade, prodding her toward the porch with its concerning slant. Luckily they didn’t have to stand on it long as Andi unlocked the door and ushered them inside, flipping on the main overhead light.
The cabin wasn’t quite as shabby as the exterior had promised—thank God—but if possible it was even smaller than it had looked from the outside. The main room sported a heavy couch, a giant potbellied stove, an array of thick, mismatched rugs, and—incongruously—a flat-screen TV. The kitchen—which looked more like a kitchenette—was open to the living area and a short hallway extended beside the refrigerator, doubtless to the bedrooms and bathrooms, though Ty could see to the end of the short hall and there didn’t seem to be enough doors.
Where were all the bedrooms?
Beside him, Jade looked around the room, almost as unimpressed as he was by their surroundings, though apparently for different reasons when she said, “There’s no tree.”
Now that he noticed it, the cabin was distinctly lacking in Christmas cheer. “I’m surprised you didn’t rent someplace decorated,” he commented to Andi as he set the bags down inside the door.
“I haven’t been much for Christmas lately,” Andi commented cryptically, already moving to the potbellied stove—the landlord must have laid a fire for them earlier, but it didn’t look promising as Andi crouched down and fed it logs from the small stack beside the stove. The room wasn’t frigid, but it certainly wasn’t warm, by any stretch of the imagination.
“You could have fooled me. After the way you decorated my place like my personal Christmas elf.”
She didn’t look up from the fire. “Actually, I hired someone to decorate your place.”
“You can hire Christmas decorators?” he asked.
Andi shot him a look. “You can hire anything in LA. Less so in Clement. More of a do-it-yourself place.”
“We’ll get a tree tomorrow,” he promised Jade. “After the parade.”
Andi straightened, dusting bits of bark off her hands. “Are you two hungry? It feels like dinner was ages ago and I think my stomach is still on West coast time.”
As Andi moved to investigate the contents of the kitchen, Ty followed and Jade flopped down on the couch. The kitchen area was small and he crowded in next to Andi as she stood with her head inside the pantry, glowering at the meager contents.
“The ad said it came fully stocked, but this kitchen is even worse than yours,” she told him. “We’ll have to stock up tomorrow.”
Ty nodded absently. He wasn’t in the habit of providing for himself. Not that he wasn’t capable of stocking a kitchen, just that the idea of having to do so never occurred to him anymore. Food simply appeared when he needed it. His mother would roll her eyes and swat him on the head if she could see how pampered he’d become. They hadn’t had much growing up. Enough that he’d never had to worry where his next meal was coming from, but not enough that he didn’t understand the profound difference between the haves and the have-nots.
His life now wasn’t extravagant, by movie star standards, but his needs had been taken care of for him for so long that he’d lost his perspective. Lost it when he lost his mother. Along with his Christmas spirit.
Andi had his house decorated and he went through the motions, but Christmas wasn’t the same without family—and his mother had always been all the family he had. But now…
He looked back at Jade. His mom would
have loved to have met her.
She’d slumped down into the corner of the couch, her feet tucked up beneath her. Her head lolled on the arm of the couch. His daughter, fast asleep.
He hadn’t expected her to fall into his life—and he hadn’t exactly been adapting well since she had—but if she was going to be his family, this innocent, sleeping girl, he needed to step up and do better for her. Be better for her.
“Looks like crackers and peanut butter.”
Ty jolted out of his daze and turned back to Andi as she set out a box of Wheat Thins and a jar of extra chunky. “Sounds delicious.” His stomach growled agreement.
“Not exactly up to your gourmet standards,” she said dryly, popping open the box as he opened the jar.
“Who needs gourmet?”
They both dug into the crackers, using them to scoop heaps of peanut butter into their mouths—there had been food at the party, but he hadn’t thought to eat when he had the chance and now peanut butter tasted almost obscenely good.
“Thank you for letting us crash your vacation,” he said after he swallowed the sticky mass gluing his mouth shut.
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re the one sleeping on the pull-out.” She used her index finger to catch a stray bit of peanut butter clinging to the corner of her lips and he tracked the movement.
“The pull-out?”
She jerked her chin toward where Jade sprawled on the couch. “Sofa sleeper. There’s only the one bedroom.”
“Right. And Jade?”
“She can share with me.”
Ty glanced back at the girl. “Looks like she’s already claimed her place.”
Andi met his eyes, exasperated. “You aren’t sleeping with me, Ty.”
“I was going to offer to take the floor,” he defended with wounded innocence, ruining it with a grin. “And then hope I could charm you into sharing the bed.”
She shoved the peanut butter away from her, leaning away from him in a clear hands-off posture. “Look, Ty, about earlier, the kissing thing—”
“Hey.” He raised his hands, palms out. “It was all for show. I get it. I’m not expecting anything to happen. We’re friends.”