I drew in a deep breath as Madison continued talking.
“The Us Weekly interview is tomorrow. An interview for the Times is Thursday. And I just had a local magazine here in New York contact me about a small phone interview with the two of you for this weekend. I told them I’d tentatively schedule that, but I’d have to run it by you. That will be much easier to pull off with the two of you living under the same roof.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Gael cleared his throat. “Sounds good.”
Last night had been torture. Going home without him. Lying down in bed without having him anywhere near me. All night, I dreamed of him, of his tongue between my legs, his large, calloused palms roaming my skin. I struggled to sleep all night and woke up with such a wetness between my legs that I had to relieve myself in the shower before coming to work. I couldn’t get our night together out of my head. Even now, I had to clench my thighs while standing next to him.
He did something to me.
And I knew he’d do more of it if he was living with me. Under the same roof. Just a few feet away from my grasp versus being on the other side of town.
Sure, I had caught the eye of plenty of attractive men before. But none had one ounce of sex appeal, in my mind. Gael effortlessly exuded it, though, through his chiseled form, his tattoos, that smoldering gaze he always cast my way with his beautiful blue eyes.
Eyes I could look into for the rest of—
“Hello. Syn. You there?” Madison asked.
I sighed. “Yes, Madison. I’m here.”
“You look like a walking corpse. You okay? Are you getting sick?”
“No, Madison. I’m not getting sick.”
I’m hooked on this massive man standing next to me, and I can’t even admit it to anyone.
That’s really what it came down to. The picture we were painting to the public was a picture I was living. A spark igniting. Our minds, knowing. Our bodies, colliding. Our romance, a whirlwind of passion and lust and love for one another. I felt myself falling for this man. Hard. Which spelled disaster for me once he finally got his green card.
This is a marriage in name only. Remember that.
If anything, I had to remember that one fact.
“All right, if there’s nothing else? Lunch is almost over, and you two need food. So, get out of here, go eat, and then the plan begins,” Madison said.
The day felt like a blur. I didn’t know how the hell I got through my scenes or why Voxx kept patting me on the back for a job well done. I didn’t even remember the scenes! I was just going through the motions, trying to figure out what the hell to do—how to approach Gael, how to even talk to him after the craziness I’d brought into his world. And by the time our day wound down, I stood there trying to find him as I clutched yet another cup of coffee in my hand.
“How do you feel about motorcycles?”
I whipped around at the sound of his voice.
“Hey there,” I said.
He nodded. “Hey.”
“Uh, motorcycles?”
“Yeah. I ride one. Got a helmet for you, if you want to ride on the back of it.”
I blinked. “You ride a motorcycle?”
“I do. It’s my main mode of transport when I’m not hailing cabs.”
“How did I not know that?”
He shrugged. “We don’t know a lot about each other yet. But I plan on changing that.”
“Well, to haul your bags, we might need a car.”
“So, another time, then. On the bike ride.”
I nodded. “Sure, yeah. Um, I’ll follow you back to your place?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
I was thankful for the driver, because I didn’t have the attention span to drive behind the wheel of a car right now. I gazed out the window as we pulled up to the curb, and I stared across the street at the bar where I’d approached Gael. Where I had thrust this insanity into his world without thinking twice about what it might do to him in the process.
You’re a selfish idiot, Syn.
“You coming?” Gael asked.
I nodded. “Yep. Right behind you.”
I followed him into his apartment, and I already saw people snapping pictures. I waited around for Gael to pack his things, and I tried not to wrinkle my nose at his apartment. It really was run-down. Water stains on the ceiling. Drip stains on the walls. The carpet looked new and fresh, but the linoleum of the kitchen looked like it needed to be replaced a year ago. The television was a massive box, something I didn’t think existed any longer. The furniture looked old and musty. This was definitely a furnished studio apartment. Which meant Gael didn’t own any of this stuff.
“All right, ready when you are,” he said.
“You deserve better than this,” I murmured.
“What was that?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Uh, ready whenever you are.”
He cocked his head at me but followed me out the door, nonetheless. I was glad he didn’t ask any questions. People snapped pictures as we piled his stuff into the trunk of the town car. Then, we gave the cameras a kiss. He bent me backward, and a few people clapped. I giggled as I wrapped my arms around him, drinking it in as much as I could. The kiss wasn’t planned, but damn, it felt incredible.
And when his beautiful blue eyes gazed deeply into mine, I could’ve sworn I saw sincerity behind them.
“Think that’s enough?” he murmured.
My bubble burst. “Definitely. Let’s get to my place.”
There were more people on my end snapping even more pictures. We waved for them before the gates of my home opened, and we left the paparazzi behind. He drove his motorcycle behind us up the long driveway, with the flashes of the cameras falling into the background. And as Gael hauled his stuff out of the trunk, I made my way into the kitchen, ready to focus on dinner.
While most starlets had their own private chefs, I always enjoyed cooking when I could. It was a good stress reliever for me, and it helped me to focus on something other than work. Not to mention, the food I cooked was outstanding, if I did say so myself.
“All right, where do you want—what smells so good?”
I heard him set his bags down as I smiled.
“Fresh mushroom and bell pepper ravioli with Alfredo sauce,” I said.
“I didn’t know you cooked.”
“Well, I didn’t know you rode a bike. So, now we’re even.”
He chuckled. “What else don’t I know about you?”
I snickered. “A great deal, probably.”
“You need help with anything?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. Um, all of the bedrooms are upstairs except for one. If you turn around and look down that hallway, there’s a door. That leads into the only downstairs bedroom.”
“Any preference as to where you want me?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable.”
Our eyes caught one another, and I knew there was something he wanted to say. I begged him silently to say it, too. All he had to do was say it. Confirm for me something I already felt. Something I already wanted. But instead, he nodded.
“I’ll take the downstairs room. Puts me closer to the kitchen so I won’t wake you up with my three-in-the-morning snacks.”
I nodded. “Sounds fine with me.”
As he gathered up his things, I uncorked a bottle of wine. It needed to breathe for a while before it could be enjoyed. And boy, did I want to enjoy it. I set about finishing dinner, complete with a salad. I figured the least we could do is share meals together when we could. So, I set the table for two and poured us each a glass of wine.
“Didn’t think you’d want me joining you for dinner,” Gael said.
I set the bottle down on the table. “Nonsense. We have a lot of ‘getting to know one another’ time that we need. I figured food will help.”
I looked up and saw him standing there in his pajama pants and a tight white T-shirt. And for some reason, he looked
even more delectable than he usually did. My need for him hit my core like a punch to my gut. I gazed into his deep blue eyes as that sly grin spread across his face. Suddenly, the food didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding a reason to kiss him again. And again. And again.
“My favorite color is yellow,” I blurted out.
He chuckled. “Black, for me.”
“That doesn’t shock me one bit.”
“It usually doesn’t for other people, either.”
I ushered for him to sit down. “I’m also mildly allergic to cats.”
“Good to know. Though, you don’t have to worry. I’m not an animal person, in general. Well, not small animals anyway.”
“So, what kind of animals do you like?”
“Horses, mainly.”
“Do you ride?”
“It was a favorite pastime of mine as a child. My father taught me how.”
I nodded. “Is there a reason why you talk about your father more than your mother?”
He picked up his fork. “There is.”
“You think it’s something I should know about?”
“The short of the story is she walked out on my father and me when I was four.”
I sighed. “I’m so sorry, Gael. I shouldn’t have even—”
He stabbed at his food. “It’s fine. It’s something you need to know. Did your parents stay together?”
I paused. “Not really, no.”
“Not really? What does that—oh, holy hell. Syn, this ravioli is outstanding.”
I smiled as he hummed over my food, but it did nothing for the ache between my legs. I needed to keep talking about anything. Everything. I had to keep on with these questions in order to distract me from the fact that this man was in the room right beneath my own.
And I mean right beneath me, too.
“Uh, I was raised mostly by my mother. My parents would fight, and Dad would leave. Then, he’d come back and apologize. Then they’d fight again, and he’d leave. And the cycle would continue. Until one day, a woman appeared on our doorstep when I was about eleven. She had a baby, and she claimed it was Dad’s. He denied it, of course. Mom threw him out. And when she threw him out, he never came back.”
Gael’s brow furrowed. “That’s fucked up. I’m really sorry you had to go through that.”
I shrugged. “I’m not. He was a piece of crap, in terms of what my mother deserved. I know he’s the reason she never dated after that. Even now, I know it’s the reason why she’s not open to the idea of falling back in love. He hurt her too much.”
“Can you blame her, though?”
“No. I blame my father for it all.”
I didn’t like this topic of conversation, so I quickly switched it.
“So, a bike. How did that come about?” I asked.
He gulped down his wine. “I’ve always been a risk-taker. An adrenaline junkie. The second I got to the States to work, I learned how to ride a bike. Got my license. My first major purchase after getting on my feet as a stuntman was the bike I have now. Easily the best thing I’ve ever done. I like how free it makes me feel. How vulnerable and powerful it makes me seem.”
“Vulnerable and powerful? Not a thing many men would admit to.”
He shrugged. “Because most men are pussies about their feelings. I’m not.”
“You’re not?’
“Nope. When it’s important? I let someone know how I’m feeling.”
There was a pride in his voice whenever he talked. Whenever he spoke about his job, or his past, or his relationship with his father. Not only did he love what he did for a living, but it was obvious he loved life to the fullest. That was hard to come by nowadays in people. Especially those in Hollywood. And his accent made it sexy.
He could’ve read me the damn dictionary and it would’ve sounded hot as hell.
We talked on into the evening, well past the food growing cold on the table. We drained the bottle of wine as he told me about his life growing up on the Canary Islands and all the stress he put his father through. All the bones he broke before he even became a stuntman in Hollywood. He told it with a humor that was both prideful and self-deprecating, and I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.
I had to get away from how good this felt before I did something I’d regret.
“All right, all right. Before I puke from laughing, it’s time for me to get upstairs. I need to run through some last-minute lines,” I said.
He grinned. “Seems like you’re a risk-taker, too.”
My heart skipped a beat. “I’ve been known to fly by the seat of my pants every once in a while.”
“Well, I look forward to those stories, then. Over our next home-cooked meal.”
“Any preferences?”
“Know any Spanish dishes?”
“I’m sure I could find some recipes.”
He shook his head. “No, no, no. Not that Americanized shit. How about this? I’ll make our next dinner, and it’ll be dishes I grew up with. You know, give you a taste of where I came from.”
I smiled. “I’d love that.”
“Me too.”
He held my gaze for a long time, and I felt my gut churning. My toes curled, and my thighs warmed again. So, I quickly got up from my chair and put my dishes in the sink. I hurried to my room without even putting the food up. Rude as hell, but I needed to get away from him as quickly as I could. How I felt wasn’t good. How I felt wasn’t fair after everything I’d thrust him into. And if I didn’t put space between us quickly, I’d kiss him again.
And again.
Until our clothes were off and his body rested against mine once more.
17
Gael
I wanted to flip off the paparazzi that were standing outside the gates to Syn’s place. I motored through them on my bike, thankful to be off work. Finally, after the stupid magazine interviews, I could come home and rest for the weekend.
Syn had already been off for a few hours. The scenes stopped running about three hours ago, and all that was left was to film some stunts before the holiday break. Five weeks off through Christmas until we started filming the back half of the television show season. And there were only a handful of days left on set. I couldn’t wait. Christmas with Syn would be outstanding, if we needed to keep the charade up that long.
I wondered about what I might get her as I parked my bike in the garage.
The second I heard splashing into the heated pool out back, I knew where to find Syn. I was hoping we could talk. She put on a good front for the interviews, so much so that they were raving about our relationship and how happy we looked from the get-go. But behind closed doors? She’d been weird, to say the least.
One minute, we were laughing together and telling stories. And the next, she was hurrying away from me like I had some sort of a disease. I didn’t know what I was doing to push her away in those moments, but I wanted it to stop. We couldn’t keep doing this to one another. We had to be on or off.
This in-between was killing me.
I walked around to the back of the house just as Syn entered the water again. She was swimming a lap as I made my way onto the porch and took a seat at the glass table. This was my favorite part of her place, the back patio that overlooked her heated pool, the hot tub, and off into the acreage of the land she owned. Even though we were smack-dab in the middle of one of the more prominent and more expensive neighborhoods in the area, it had a feel of privacy. As if we were the only two out here, enjoying our lives together.
I almost swallowed my tongue when she got out of the pool, though.
The water dripped off her body and slid down her smooth legs. The one-piece she had on had cutouts at the sides and around her navel, lending a beautiful natural pattern against her skin. I licked my lips as she turned around, her legs moving gracefully, her skin glistening underneath the setting sun. Her hair dripped wet down her back before she dove back into the pool, slicing it in half as she swam her way back to the other end.
Holy hell, she was so fucking sexy. And charming, too. Every dinner we spent together, she had more stories for me to listen to, and more jokes for me to enjoy. Her attentiveness was something I soaked in, and there were moments where she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Though, every night was torture. My cock forced me to relive our wedding morning. My body ached to be next to hers as I listened to her shuffle around upstairs, her bedroom right on top of mine.
So close, yet so far away from me.
Every morning, I touched myself to the thought of her, reliving our passion until I exploded in the shower. Seeing her like this had nothing on those feelings, though. Nothing on those pinpricks in time. I watched her push her way out of the pool before wringing her hair out, studying her every languid move. She tossed her hair behind her. I watched her hips softly sway with every step she took, like a serpent in the sand, quietly seducing her next victim.
I growled as she rinsed herself down in the outdoor shower.
My cock was like stone in my pants, but I still did my best to give her space, even if it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Even if my hands trembled with need to touch her. Even if my cock steadily leaked against my poor boxers.
Get a grip, Gael.
But the only grip I wanted was my hands on her hips.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were home!”
Her voice pulled me from my heated trance, and I crossed my ankle over my knee, hoping to hell on high it concealed my rock-hard erection.
“Yeah, just got back in a few minutes ago,” I said.
She smiled as she wrapped a towel around her body.
“How were the scenes? Didn’t get hurt, didja?”
I grinned. “Already worrying about me?”
“While I’m sure a story of you in the hospital would run well with the press, it’s not how I want to be spending my weekend.”
His Secret Baby Page 10