Mr. April: A Celebrity Romance (Calendar Boys Book 4)

by Nicole S. Goodin

  The thought of that should probably make me jealous, but it doesn’t. I’m not even sure I really care anymore.

  Oh god, what am I doing?

  “I’ll sing for you.”

  I open my eyes, which I didn’t even realise I’d closed, and look up at him.

  He’s studying me like I’m a puzzle and he can’t make all the pieces fit together.

  “You will?” I ask softly.

  “I seem to have a problem telling you no,” he admits with a shrug.

  I shouldn’t like that piece of information, but I do.

  I really fucking do.

  He’s looking right into my eyes, and the blue seems even brighter somehow – it’s mesmerising. I can almost feel myself getting sucked in.

  “I have a confession to make,” he tells me, and I hang off his every word like some kind of groupie.

  It’s lucky there’s a table between us right now, because I think I would have leaned in and kissed him if there wasn’t.

  “Mmmm?” I hum, because frankly, I’m having trouble forming words.

  “You didn’t trip over nothing.”

  My brow creases as I frown at him in confusion, I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Earlier today, you didn’t trip on nothing; I left my bag in your way,” he elaborates.

  I think about what he’s saying.

  He tripped me?

  “You wanted me to fall?” I ask him.

  He nods his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “Only if it meant I got to catch you.”

  I don’t know what to say. The only thing more surreal than running into the man of your dreams, is knowing that that man singled you out for some reason.

  “I saw you and you were like gravity. I was helpless. I had to meet you, no matter what it might cost me.”

  “Did you steal that from one of your movies?” I whisper – my voice having escaped me.

  He smirks. “You’re the fan girl, you tell me.”

  It’s not any line I remember, but it’s working on me – that’s for damn sure.

  I’m contemplating reaching across and taking his hand when the waiter appears next to me and sits a huge plate of food on the table in front of me, effectively breaking the moment.

  I glance back up at Beckett as the waiter disappears and I can see he felt it too – his face is a mask of disappointment.

  I don’t know whether to be thankful or devastated for the interruption.

  I’ve never, ever even entertained the idea of cheating on my husband – no matter how bad things have gotten – but I considered it just now, for the briefest of moments I was ready to throw myself at one of the most famous people on the face of the universe.

  God, he’s so sexy. I’m not sure there’s a woman in the world who would judge me for it – I don’t even know if my own husband would.

  Beckett winks at me knowingly and picks up his knife and fork.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Beckett

  “I could not maintain abs in this country… That was the best seafood I’ve ever tasted.” I groan and lay my hand across my full stomach.

  She giggles. “I can take you back to get some for later if you want.”

  I shake my head. It was so good, but the thought of stuffing anything more down my throat makes me feel physically sick.

  “I’m good.”

  We’re strolling down a quiet street – I don’t know where we’re going – but I do know I’m having a hard time resisting the urge to take her hand in mine again.

  Our little fingers keep brushing against each other’s and I don’t know about her, but it’s driving me crazy.

  I can’t figure out what’s happening to me. I’m used to women – hot women even – throwing themselves at me day and night. I’ve been propositioned everywhere from the red carpet to a men’s bathroom.

  Blaire has in no way thrown herself at me, but I feel more of a connection with her, right here, right now, barely even touching her than I have with some of the women I’ve been inside of.

  I don’t know if that says more about me as a person than it does about our connection, but either way, it’s the truth.

  “We’re nearly there,” she tells me as her hand brushes mine again.

  And thank fuck for that. My self-control is about to fail spectacularly.

  I look up ahead and spot the familiar blue, red and white of a barber shop pole.

  “Is there any point in arguing?” I say with a resigned sigh.

  She bats her lashes at me innocently and shrugs. “Not really.”

  “I thought not.”

  “I’ve got a friend who works in here – we can count on her to be discreet,” she reassures me.

  I don’t like my chances of staying incognito after I’m all cleaned up, but I’m willing to accept that I’d do just about anything to see Blaire smile, and I know full well that this will do it.

  “Lead the way,” I tell her.

  She rests her hands on the glass door and glances at me for a moment before giving her head a little shake, grinning and pushing the door open.

  “B! Is that you, girl?” a woman’s voice calls out over the loud music.

  Blaire waves out excitedly to her. “Hey, Lil!”

  “Oh yasss, I haven’t seen you in forever… I’ll be over in like one minute,” she says before going back to chopping at a guy’s hair.

  I lean over Blaire’s shoulder and whisper in her ear. “Is that your friend? She seems really discreet.”

  She giggles. “She’s always like that. She’s dramatic too – we had lunch just last week, and I can guarantee she’ll be more than one minute.”

  “Won’t she think it’s a little odd that you’re here with a man who isn’t your husband?”

  She ushers me to the bench seat against the wall and we sit, side by side.

  “She’s not really a judgy kind of person, but she’s nosey as hell, so I’m sure there will be questions.”

  “I’m not sure she knows how to keep anything quiet, Blaire.” I chuckle with amusement as the song changes and Lil starts singing along loudly.

  There’s only one other barber working in here, and he seems far more interested in his work than he does in looking at me, so that’s a plus.

  “It’s lucky she’s terrible with technology. She thinks the internet will give her cancer and she never sees a movie until it comes on free to air television. She’s got no idea who you are.”

  “That wounds me.”

  She nudges me playfully with her elbow. “I think your ego will survive.”

  “I’m not so sure, I haven’t had anyone ask me to have their babies for a few weeks now. It’s taking its toll on my pride.”

  “I don’t know how you’ve managed,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

  She picks up a magazine from the table next to her and giggles as she glances at an image on the cover.

  It’s me.

  “Beckett Thorn blows off red carpet as co-star rumours swirl,” she reads the line that accompanies my picture. “Truth or bullshit?” she asks.

  “Me and Eva?” I raise my brow at her.

  She shrugs as she flicks to the page of the full article and skims over it. “They’ve done a good job at making it look like you ran from a lover’s spat.”

  “I like Eva. I respect her… but I have no interest in her as anything other than a co-star.”

  She seems satisfied with my answer. “She’s really freakin’ hot. Hell, I’d probably sleep with her.”

  I like that she said that. So many women are jealous of other women. It’s nice to hear her give credit where credit’s due, because she’s right. Eva is hot.

  “I think you’d probably have more luck than me… given that she’s into girls.” I wink at her.

  She gasps. “She is? I didn’t know that.”

  “It’s a secret.”

  “But you just told me.”

  “Yeah but we’re sharing all our secrets, remember?�
��

  She laughs and shakes her head in disbelief. “What even is my life right now? I know all of Beckett Thorn’s secrets.”

  “That reminds me. I think you owe me another name.”

  She groans dramatically. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

  I tap the end of her nose. “I might be pretty, but I’m not stupid.”

  She laughs again and tosses the magazine back onto the table. “Fine. One more.”

  “Can I take a guess?” I ask before she has a chance to spill the beans on who the lucky guy is.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  I pretend like I’m deep in thought. “I’m going to go with either Ryan for a first name or Hemsworth for a last name.”

  “Well, tick tock, I can’t wait all day.” She taps her watch dramatically.

  “Everyone loves a Hemsworth,” I decide.

  “Liam or Chris?” she prompts.

  “Oh c’mon now, don’t forget about the other one.”

  She giggles. “You don’t even know his name!”

  “Lucas?” I question. “Logan….? Luke? It’s Luke, right?”

  “Oh… poor Luke.” She drops her bottom lip.

  “I got there in the end.” I chuckle. “So was I right?”

  She stares hard at me for a moment, her brain ticking over, and I know I’m right. She’s just deciding whether or not to bullshit me or not.

  She sighs. “Chris.”

  “I knew it,” I announce victoriously.

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

  “I’m still willing to bet there’s a Ryan on there too.”

  “I’m not going to say there is, but I’m also not willing to say there isn’t.”

  “C’mon, double or nothing.”

  She lightly smacks my arm. “Double or nothing of what? We’re not betting anything.” She giggles.

  “Technicality.”

  I give her the grin that seems to make all the women back home squeal and scream.

  “Reynolds,” she blurts out.

  I grin wider, triumphantly. Looks like I’ve still got it.

  “No surprises there.”

  She blushes and I’m about to push my luck and try and get the final name out of her when her friend appears in front of us.

  “Care Blaire!” She grabs her arms, pulls her to her feet and hugs her. “Who’s the hotty?” she asks, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

  I stand up. “I’m Daniel Beckett.” I give her one of my cover names.

  I extend my hand to her but she ignores me and pulls me in for a hug instead. “Oh goodness, he’s got all the muscles and everything,” she exclaims as she squeezes my biceps.

  Blaire giggles. “Have you got time to fix all of this?” she waves her hand in the direction of my hair and beard.

  Lil eyes me up and down like she’s assessing the possibilities.

  “I’ve got time. But I’m not taking off the entire beard.”

  Blaire opens her mouth – to request my usual clean-shaven look I would guess, but Lil cuts her off.

  “Trust me, honey, this one suits it looking a little rough.” She winks at me. “What do you think?”

  I chuckle. “You’re the boss.”

  “We’re going to have to take off that cap though,” she warns me with a grimace.

  I pull off the hat and run my hand through my hair.

  As much as I’m enjoying something different, I have to admit that I’m sick of this mop. I’ve never had longer hair, and I can’t say I’ll be rushing to grow it past my ears ever again.

  Lil points to the chair and I go and sit in it.

  “You might want to wash it first,” Blaire yells across the room to us.

  I look back at her and she’s sitting back on the bench – the magazine in her hand again.

  I shoot daggers at her and she smirks at me.

  I chuckle. “I’ve washed it, I promise,” I tell Lil.

  She runs her fingers through my hair, pressing firmly against my skull and I sigh in contentment.

  I have missed being pampered.

  “We’ll have you looking fresh in no time, Danny boy.”

  I close my eyes and relax into my chair.

  “I’ll make you a deal… I’ll cut and you can tell me how you know my girl over there.”

  I feel my lips turn up into a smile. “Now that’s a good question.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Blaire

  I’m trying desperately to get interested in the glossy pages of the gossip magazine in front of me, but it’s incredibly hard when the man I normally scan the columns for is sitting only a few feet away from me in the flesh.

  Lil has no idea who he is, and as much as I’m busting to tell her that she’s cutting the hair of a mega star, it’ll have to wait until after he’s gone and left town again. I don’t want to be the reason that fame finds him here.

  I can’t hear what the two of them are talking about over there, but every so often Lil will say something to Beckett and he’ll laugh loudly.

  I look up every time I hear his laughter. It’s like a drug to me.

  Every now and then his eyes will seek mine out through the reflection of the mirror that’s leaning against the bench in front of his chair.

  Every time he smiles at me, my stomach flips.

  There’s something seriously spectacular about that man.

  I slide my phone out of my pocket and try to focus on some of the emails that have come in from my clients today, but my attention is divided.

  I open my text message folder, but there’s nothing new. Not even a text from my husband.

  I can’t imagine going home tonight and telling him about the day I’m having.

  I can’t imagine telling anyone about it if I’m honest. It feels like it would break the spell or something stupid like that, or maybe it’s that I want to keep Beckett all for myself… I don’t know… All I know is, I don’t want it to end.

  “What do you think?” his deep voice asks, and when I look up from my daydream, he’s right there in front of me, looking far too sexy for his own good.

  I swallow deeply, trying to moisten my too-dry throat.

  “I… I think Lil was right.”

  He looks at me in question.

  “The scruff.” I gesture to the sexy stubble she’s left on his chin. “It looks good.”

  He grins at me, and if I thought I was in trouble before, I had no idea.

  She hasn’t given him the close cut he seems to always have back home, she’s left him as a more rugged version of himself, and hell, it’s mouth-watering.

  His hair is a bit longer on top – just the right length to run your fingers through.

  “He looks delicious, right?” Lil asks as she sidles up next to him.

  “Almost good enough to eat,” I reply honestly.

  Beckett looks at me with intrigue, his blue eyes sparkling like cut crystal.

  “I need a drink,” he announces.

  I glance at my watch, and I’m about to tell him it’s too early to drink, but somehow it’s already four in the afternoon – I don’t know where the day went.

  Harvey will be home in an hour or so, and he’ll wonder where I’ve got to.

  There’s a ticking clock looming over my time with Beckett, and I don’t like it.

  “A drink?” I squeak, doing a poor job of hiding my inner turmoil.

  “A drink,” he confirms, his eyes suggesting so much more than a simple beverage.

  He pays Lil for his cut and shave by throwing a wad of cash on the counter and telling her to keep the change.

  I don’t really hear what she says as I wave goodbye, but before I know it, we’re walking down the street to a little pub on the corner, and when Beckett takes my hand as we cross the street, I let him.

  ***

  I glance at my watch again as he sits the huge glass of beer before me.

  “That’s bigger than my head
.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” he says as he sips his own beer.

  He sits the glass back down on the table and I giggle at the foam moustache left above his top lip.

  “You’ve got a little something there.” I point.

  “There’s that smile I’ve been missing.”

  I raise my brow at him in question as my heart thumps against my rib cage.

  “You’ve been deep in thought since we left the barbers. What’s wrong? Is it my hair?”

  I shake my head. “Your hair looks… glorious.”

  He chuckles. “Glorious? That’s a solid compliment.”

  I shrug. “It’s a pretty impressive haircut.”

  “You’re sad. Tell me what’s upset you.” He’s says the words so gently, yet firm, so I know I can’t avoid them.

  It nearly brings a tear to my eye that he can read me this way.

  There’s something about him that speaks to a part deep inside my soul, and there seems to be something inside him that stops and really listens to me.

  Harvey could sit here through a three-course dinner and walk away not having a clue that I’m hurting. He’s not very in touch with his emotions, and I know that’s not necessarily his fault – I’m just not sure it’s what I want anymore.

  “I’m embarrassed to say,” I admit.

  He reaches across the table and tips my chin up with his finger, so I’m looking at him.

  “There’s no shame in telling me how you’re feeling.”

  “I wish this day didn’t have to end,” I confess, my defences slipping as his beautiful eyes pull me in.

  “You’ve got no fucking idea how badly I wish it could last forever,” he tells me, and he’s so genuine I don’t even question if he’s acting with me.

  “But it can’t.”

  He reaches across the table and strokes the side of my hand with his thumb. “It doesn’t have to end here.”

  God… There’s chemistry and then there’s this. I can’t even give this a name, it’s so all-consuming it’s hard to breathe properly.

  “But it does,” I whisper. “You can’t stay here, and I’m still as married now as I was this morning.”