b. Our love brought us back to each other.
c. My heart beats for her.
Lexie is a. Fun.
b. Smart.
c. Big-hearted.
d. Beautiful.
A tic pulled at the corner of the smile she kept glued on her face. She looked up at the amusement shining from the depths of his dark green eyes. She’d blackmailed him into playing her boyfriend. Either he was exacting revenge, or he just wasn’t smart enough to follow a simple outline. Both were problematic.
He rubbed his hand up and down her bare forearm, warming her skin with his big palm. “What’s not to love about Lexie?”
“I always say that, too.” Her mother laid her head on her husband’s big shoulder. “Don’t I, John?”
“Yes, Georgie,” he answered, and kissed the top of her head. “You say that about all the kids.”
No one but Lexie seemed to notice that Sean hadn’t directly answered the question.
“That was messed up,” he said as they walked to the parking lot half an hour later. “I don’t like lying to John and your mother.”
She looked up at him out of the corners of her eyes. Dusk settled on his forehead, and a chilly breeze tousled locks of his dark hair and turned his cheeks red. He’d put on a long wool coat but left it open enough for the wind to ruffle his tie. “It’s okay if you decide to lie to your mother about us, but not okay if I decide to lie to my parents.”
“It’s not the same. I lied to save your ass from Hoda and Kathie Lee.”
Her car lights flashed twice as she pressed a button on the keypad. “And I literally saved your ass from a hockey stick.”
“That was just talk. It wouldn’t have happened.”
“We will never know that now.” She stopped by the driver’s side door. “Do I need to resend the memo?”
“Nope.” He patted a side pocket in his gray overcoat. “Got it right here in my e-mail.”
“You went a little off script.” Several strands of her blond hair blew across her face, and she shoved them behind one ear. “It’s important that you stick to the bullet points tomorrow. Sylvia pounces on the slightest inaccuracy. Real or perceived,” she said, referring to the Seattle Times reporter.
“You just worry about Lexie.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “In case the world is watching,” he said, but kissed her like they were alone. Warm and wet, sucking the breath from her lungs and starting a fire that burned from the tips of her toes, all the way to the top of her head. Just as suddenly he released her, leaving her in stunned silence as he walked away. The wind kicked up the single vent at the bottom of his coat as she raised a hand to her lips. Her fingers felt especially cool against the hot imprint of his kiss, lingering on her lips long after he faded into the dusky evening.
The Seattle Times had a daily circulation of over two hundred and thirty thousand, with three times as many online views. The morning after the leak had first appeared, the views had almost doubled. By the time Lexie and Sean sat down in his condo, the anticipation had grown so big, the story was being held for the cover of the local section of the Sunday edition, circulation of over eight hundred thousand.
“It was love at first sight,” she gushed to reporter Sylvia Navarro. Lexie placed a hand on the front of her cashmere sweater, made from the underbelly of cruelty-free Mongolian goats. “Too bad I didn’t trust it at first.” She and Sean sat on his gray leather couch, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, with the observation deck of the Space Needle in full view in the windows beyond. The perfect setting for the star-crossed lovers. “We just thought the odds were stacked against us.” The condo was decidedly modern, inside and out. Cold steel, stark white walls, and slate tiles that definitely could use some color.
“You say you two met in Pittsburgh when Sean was playing for the Penguins.” Sylvia’s slick black hair fell over one shoulder as she glanced at the notes in her lap. “When was that exactly?”
“September,” Sean answered, just as she’d outlined in section three. He wore a green dress shirt and charcoal slacks, the perfect complement to her deep blue sweater and black pants. If Lexie had been allowed to stage the apartment, too, she would have added touches of red and sunny yellow and several area rugs made of long, toe-curling shag.
“What day in September?” The reporter looked up, and if her dark gaze seemed to linger a bit in Sean’s direction, Lexie couldn’t really blame the woman. He was big and handsome, his cheeks shaved smooth of his usual daily scruff. The color of his shirt made his eyes seem a deeper green, and he smelled like musky soap, rich and intoxicating.
“Sixteenth.” And Sylvia didn’t appear to be immune to his certain brand of intoxication. “A full month before I agreed to do Gettin’ Hitched.” She paused as if in deep reflection. “I’ve had time to take a good hard look at my actions, and I know now that I was running from my feelings for Sean. When I agreed to do the show, I’d convinced myself that our relationship was over. My feelings were raw and our relationship seemed so impossible, and the show was a distraction from the pain I felt inside.” She laid her head on his big shoulder. “When I signed the contract, I honestly thought I could fall in love with Pete, but my heart still belonged to Sean. I never should have participated when my judgment had been so clouded with pain.”
“What did you think when you saw Lexie on reality TV, competing to be the wife of another man?” Sylvia asked Sean as she checked the battery life on her digital recorder.
“Shock. Anger.” He chuckled. “But I never thought she’d actually win.”
Lexie lifted her head and looked into his face. “I’m very competitive.”
“I know. Inherited from your dad’s side.”
How did he know that? It wasn’t in the memo. If she wasn’t careful, she might actually believe he had feelings for her. Other than anger and annoyance. She might actually believe she had feelings for him, too. Other than suspicion and a growing fascination with his kiss.
“You shouldn’t have competed so hard to win a man you didn’t love.” He squeezed the top of her arm.
That wasn’t part of the script, either, and she felt like she was in Sandspit again, sitting at the Waffle Hut and being judged by him. “If you’d tried a little harder to win me, I never would have pulled on a pair of Daisy Dukes and climbed down from a tractor.” That wasn’t in the memo, either, but honestly, being lectured by the hypocrite who’d lied about his identity when they’d first met added irritation to her list of feelings.
Sean laughed. “If I’d known you were going to win a husband on the set of a fake farm, I would have hog-tied you, baby.”
Sylvia’s laughter joined Sean’s, and Lexie could feel a crease pull her brows. Baby? They hadn’t discussed terms of endearment and she hadn’t thought to include them. “You’re so romantic.” One unauthorized endearment was probably okay, but this was her life. One wrong move could put a pin in her last chance. She’d have to include some in her memo just to be safe.
“It does sound romantic,” Sylvia agreed. “When did you realize that you couldn’t let her marry Peter Dalton?”
“When I saw the last episode.” Sean removed his arm from around Lexie and sat forward with his forearms on his knees. His green eyes stared across at the reporter, blasting her with his megawatt charm. “I’d signed with Seattle in late October. Mostly so I could see Lexie, but when I got here, I couldn’t find her. I don’t watch a lot of television, and I’d never even heard of Gettin’ Hitched. I’m from Canada. Her father wasn’t my biggest fan, so I couldn’t ask him.”
“That must have been difficult. You have your career on one side and the woman you love on the other.”
“It was, Sylvia.” He paused, as if remembering that difficult time. “I searched for Lexie behind the scenes, but no one seemed to know where she was. She’d just vanished on me and I was very concerned.”
Wow, he’d gone off script again and made himself look like a great g
uy? And what did being Canadian have to do with anything?
Sean looked down at his leather shoes. “I don’t watch a lot of television, but I was on a spin bike one night at the Key and I looked up and there she was. Rolling in the mud with a pig.”
He was purposely ad-libbing, and Lexie got that familiar panicky palpitation in her heart. “That was the lipstick-on-a-pig competition. We had to catch a greasy piglet and put lipstick on it.” She paused to put one hand on her chest and explained, “No pigs were harmed during the episode, and I wouldn’t normally exploit an animal like that. The poor little pig’s heart was beating like crazy. I felt horrible.”
Sean glanced over his shoulder at her. His eyes settled on her lips, and he said, his voice deep and intimate as if they were the only two people in the room, “You’re so sweet.” The palpitations pinched a corner of her heart. This wasn’t real, she reminded herself.
“Did you win?” Sylvia wanted to know.
“Of course.” Lexie ducked her chin to hide the warmth rushing her cheeks.
Sean laughed and sat back. “We should probably add cutthroat to the list of your charms.” Once again he wrapped his arm around her and dropped a casual kiss on her lips. He was good at that. So good at making a casual kiss seem like so much more. If she wasn’t careful, she might start to like it too much. If she wasn’t careful, she might start to like him too much, and that was impossible.
Sylvia looked down at her notes as if she was intruding on a private moment. “How did the plan to run away from one man to the other unfold, Lexie?”
Impossible. She didn’t even like Sean. Not very much, at any rate. “I got a note from a mutual friend that Sean was waiting for me at the docks off Fairview.” After Jimmy had messed up the “leak” they’d decided to leave his name out of things as much as possible. “The note said he still loved me and would wait for me until seven-thirty.” Then, because he was rubbing her arm and purposely confusing the palpitations in her heart, she added, “He signed it with a little heart.” He squeezed her against his side and she smiled up at him. “Wasn’t I supposed to mention the hearts?”
He lowered his face and whispered next to her ear, “You’re going to pay for that.”
“Ahh . . . now who’s being sweet?” She laughed at the color rising up his cheeks. “I was terrified that I’d miss him,” she continued, returning her attention to Sylvia. “But there he was, standing at the end of the dock, waiting for me with open arms.”
“It reminds me of Carrie and Mr. Big.” Sylvia smiled as if she was reliving the last ten minutes of the Sex and the City movie. This was nothing like Carrie and Mr. Big, and Lexie looked into Sean’s puzzled green eyes. He clearly didn’t know what Sylvia was talking about. Maybe he should watch some TV.
“Except for the closet and the Manolos.” And just about everything else.
The reporter laughed at the little joke. “Sean, did you worry that she might have fallen in love with Pete and not show up?”
“No. I was only concerned that she wouldn’t get the letter in time. There was no question in my mind that she’d choose me over that guy.”
Okay. That was a good answer.
“Pete’s a loser,” he added. “What kind of man goes on national TV to find a wife?” Lexie opened her mouth to answer, but Sean answered himself, “A sissy who can’t get women on his own.”
Now he sounded like a jealous lover, which was good but confusing. If she didn’t know this was all an act, she might start to believe he cared. “I don’t want to talk about Pete.”
“I don’t blame you. He’s a weasel.”
Staring at the amusement in his eyes brought her back to reality, reminding her that:
He didn’t have feelings for her.
She didn’t have feelings for him.
He didn’t want a relationship.
She didn’t want a relationship. a. She’d almost married the wrong guy.
“Why Sandspit, British Columbia?” Sylvia asked.
“Two very good reasons,” Sean answered, and turned his attention to the reporter. “I wanted my mother to meet Lexie.” He pulled her closer against his side again. “No one would think to search for us there, and we needed some serious alone time. If you know what I mean.” She elbowed him and he took it further, squeezing her even tighter. “I needed to put a smile back on my baby’s face.”
“Did he?”
Once again, a warm flush rose up Lexie’s throat and heated her cheeks. To the casual observer, it might appear tender and loving. For Lexie, it reminded her of his warm breath on the side of her throat. His big hands on her breasts and her legs wrapped around his waist. They’d never really discussed that night at the Harbor Inn. She didn’t want to talk about it now. Nor did she want the little tingles gathering at her wrist, just above her pulse.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said into her hair. His breath warmed her scalp and sent more tingles down the side of her neck, just like that night they’d spent in the small Canadian hotel. “Making love is the best part of being in love. Isn’t that what you always say?”
Sort of. While she hadn’t included a section on suitable endearments, she had given him a list of answers to questions about love. She’d done the work for him and thought he’d find subsection five useful:
Part of love is taking the risk.
Love heals all wounds.
I saw her smile and I just knew.
Making love is one of the best parts of being in love.
She’d come up with a few more that she couldn’t recall at the moment. He had her flustered and nervous and unable to think beyond the memory of the night he’d spread scattering tingles and chased them with his mouth.
Sylvia turned her questions to Sean and the five years he’d lived in Pittsburgh before he’d “fallen in love with Lexie” and moved to Seattle. His thumb idly brushed her arm through her sweater as he answered.
She knew that he’d played hockey in Pittsburgh from a Google search of his name. Of course she knew that his mother lived in Sandspit, and she knew that he liked his vodka cold and sex hot. At the moment, he was a huge part of her life. She was hanging on by her fingernails. She was depending on him to help save her, yet she knew next to nothing about his life.
“Where do you see yourself in twenty years?” Sylvia asked Sean, pulling Lexie’s attention from the man against her side.
“Surrounded by six kids.”
“Six kids!” Lexie put a hand on her chest. “With me?”
He squeezed her tight against his side. “I can’t wait to get started.”
There it was again. The little pinch in her heart that confused truth and lies and made her remind herself that none of this was real. He was acting, and who knew he would be so good at it?
“Where do you see yourself?” the reporter asked Lexie.
Lexie couldn’t see that far ahead. There was so much she had to do in the present, she could hardly see past tomorrow. This newspaper article was just second on her list of missions she had to accomplish before she could even begin to think of the future. “Happy and still in love.” She held up her index and middle fingers. “Two kids. Maybe three. My business, Yum Yum’s Closet, a household name and a franchise of physical stores.” As long as she had a reporter in front of her she had to add, “I’m having an opening for my first store at the end of next month. I’ll send you an invitation.” She flashed the man beside her a smile. “Sean will be there. Who knows, we might have some surprising news by then.”
One brow lifted up his forehead. “Really?”
“What news?” Sylvia wanted to know.
The last time she’d gone after free publicity, it had backfired. She was more cautious this time. “I’ll call you first. I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
Before Sylvia shut off her recorder, Lexie hurriedly added, “We’re asking people to bring a bag of dog food to the opening, which we will donate to our local animal shelters. March is
National Animal Poison Prevention Month, and we always donate a portion of that month’s profits to the ASPCA. Animal cruelty hurts everyone and must be stopped.”
“You’re one of those,” Sean said.
Lexie looked up into Sean’s green eyes. “Of those?”
“Responsible for all those horrible commercials of abused animals on television.”
“I thought you didn’t watch TV.”
“Not usually, but I swear to God, every time I turn it on there’s a commercial of a dog with its ribs sticking out and limping down the street.”
Sylvia shut off her recorder. “Most people just turn the channel.”
“There’s no way you can turn it fast enough to avoid seeing a cat with a messed-up eye.”
Lexie tried not to judge, but in his case, she didn’t try that hard. Abused animals were helpless and broke her heart. She was very disappointed that Sean changed the channel instead of reaching out to help starving dogs and sick kitties.
“I had to give them my credit card number just so I don’t feel hammered by guilt each time I change the channel.”
The Thursday after the interview, Lexie relaxed with chardonnay in her seat on the third deck at the Key. On the ice below, the Anaheim Ducks skated from end to end enduring the boos of Seattle fans.
“You probably need to say that you have complete respect for the directors and producers,” Marie said from the seat beside her.
“I agree.” Lexie scribbled on a yellow legal pad as she brainstormed scenarios and crafted a plan for the Gettin’ Hitched reunion show that was scheduled to tape next month. “And the fans.” She wasn’t looking forward to the reunion show. She’d rather face a swarm of yellow jackets than the hive of hitchin’ brides. She’d stand a better chance of dodging the sting of wasps than the barbs of twenty pissed-off contestants. She’d seen all the episodes and follow-up interviews now. She knew what they’d said about her during the show and in the days afterward.
“And you should probably think of something nice to say about the other women.”
The Art of Running in Heels Page 15