No Foolin' (Willowdale Romance Novel)

by Scott, Lisa

  He looked at Kate floating on her back, fanning her hands through the water. She looked like a treasure washed up from the depths of the ocean. He groaned. “Right now?”

  “Yep. She’s going to be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Fine.” He hung up and noticed that the missed call was from Simone, though she didn’t leave a message. What did she want? He could only imagine. She had taken it badly when he broke up with her. They’d had fun for six months. Good sex and all that. But then she got too close, wanting to stay over every night, wanting to come along everywhere he went, wanting more, more, more—more than he could give. She thought she was the one who could tame him, that’s what she’d told him. She even wanted to spend the entire Sunshine Film Festival together last year.

  He laughed. That’s exactly what he was doing with Kate, and it didn’t bother him a bit. He looked out at her, still floating on the water. “I’m going up to the hotel for a bit,” he shouted.

  Kate held up a hand to indicate she’d heard him. She was probably glad. It had taken his mother two years to decide she’d had enough of Teague. It had only taken Kate three days.

  KATE WATCHED TEAGUE walk up to the hotel. He’d dressed in linen pants and a Hawaiian shirt. He wasn’t just dashing up there for food, he was going to see someone. She dug her toes into the sand and swished the water around her.

  What would her mother think about what she was doing, lying like this for cash? Posing as a girlfriend, allowing him to kiss her just for show? Kate’s mother had been old-fashioned. Despite the hell George had put her through, she had looked out for him even from her deathbed.

  “A marriage isn’t always an easy thing. You don’t leave it when you hit a few bumps. You don’t leave when the love’s gone. George has his faults, but he’s a decent man. He took us in when we had nobody.” She’d squeezed Kate’s hand with as much force as she could muster. “Watch out for him and Dina. Promise me.”

  Kate shook the bad thoughts away, walked up to the shore and settled on the lounge chair. She didn’t care where Teague had gone. Who knew what these Hollywood types had to do at festivals? He’d left his phone on the table next to the chair. She looked at it a few times like it was a snake that might bite her, then finally picked it up and checked his last call. One missed call from Simone Peters. She thought about tossing the phone in the ocean.

  She buried her nose in her book but stayed on the same page for fifteen minutes. She dropped it to the sand and grabbed her own phone, checking in on Dina. She really should call her friends, but she didn’t know what to say. Surprise! I forgot to mention I was dating a Hollywood hunk? She’d call them once the festival was over and the media attention died down. She texted Dina, asking if George was home and if she and her bitty bump were okay.

  Dad’s here. We’re good. Photographers all over the place. Dina texted back. When R U going 2 tell me what’s going on?

  When U tell me who the baby’s father is.

  Nice try, she texted back.

  Well, it was worth a shot, Kate thought, and she texted back. It’s complicated. We’ll talk later.

  Kate wandered along the beach, picking up tiny white shells as she went. The money Teague promised would more than pay the property tax bill and penalties. But George also had a second mortgage on the house, and he’d hinted that it was overdue, too. An extra twenty thousand from winning her bet with Teague could help there. But how long would Kate have to bail him out? Her mother had only been dead eight months, and keeping an eye on George and Dina had already cost Kate plenty. She frowned and tossed the shells back into the sea. She’d probably be cleaning up his messes until she died. She’d have to, if she wanted to keep that house. And since Mama and her daddy had bought that house and fixed it up before she was born, she really wanted to keep it.

  TEAGUE SMILED AND nodded throughout the meeting with the producer, catching none of what she said, ignoring the way she and her cleavage leaned closer and closer to him. A month ago he’d have had her in his hotel room by now. That’s what she wanted. But damned if he wasn’t busy wondering what Kate was doing. Maybe he should leave her back at the bungalow during the festival and pretend she was ill for her sake—and for his. The press might speculate she couldn’t handle the heat of the spotlight.

  He frowned. He didn’t want her hurt or smeared in the tabloids. He’d already changed her life forever just by bumping into her on the street in Willowdale. That town had changed everything for him. First Jennifer and the baby on the way, now Kate. His life had been turned upside down and inside out—then twisted and hung out to dry. What was he going to do with this baby? How was he going to protect Jennifer? He didn’t even know he had a sister until he’d gotten that phone call. And he wasn’t prepared for what he’d found.

  If only he hadn’t been too proud to examine his past, he would have tracked down Jennifer earlier and none of this would’ve happened. He was still wondering how to deal with her, but he had a more pressing issue waiting for him at the beach.

  He wrapped up his visit with the disappointed producer who’d been practically panting by the end of their meeting. He stopped by the maître d’ and ordered a dinner of champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, mahi-mahi, steak and other delectables. Maybe it would work, prove to Kate he wasn’t really T-Rex, that he was more like good old Eugene. If not, at least there was a record of him wining and dining his girlfriend. And that was the most important thing, he reminded himself: keeping up appearances with Kate, even if he couldn’t make any progress in private. No matter how attracted he was to her, he had to keep the baby and Jennifer out of the news.

  He walked back toward their room, a canopy of palms whispering above him. Was adoption the best option for the baby? He was disgusted with himself for even thinking it. Knowing his mother gave him away had haunted him his entire life. Would he do that to this child? Or could he keep the child and cover it all up to protect Jennifer? Ugh. It was impossible. Just like the situation waiting for him in the bungalow.

  “KATE? Are you hungry?”

  She looked up from her book and rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, I am.” Or at least she thought the burning in her belly was hunger. “What time is it?”

  “It’s six here, but it’s midnight back on the east coast.” His bronzed cheeks and tousled hair gave him a sexy look that sent her reeling. He walked toward the bed and planted his hands on his hips.

  “I’ll get dressed.” She yawned.

  “No. You look … perfect.” His voice was low and husky. “I ordered dinner for us. Here. Room service.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “I figured you’d be out with Simone.”

  “What?” He looked genuinely confused.

  “Isn’t that why you went back to the hotel?”

  “No, we broke up a year ago. It’s over. Really. I went to the hotel to meet with a producer.” He took a deep breath. “But I couldn’t wait to get back here.”

  Kate looked around at the lovely room that had become her refuge. “I know what you mean. It’s so private and comfortable.” Her heart had betrayed her, pinging her chest since he walked in the room. She dropped her feet to the floor and stood up, stretching and inhaling the warm, fragrant air.

  Teague shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to get back here to you.”

  Kate froze mid-stretch and then dropped her hands to her side.

  Teague took a step toward her, and then another.

  She backed up, but the bed was in her way. Swallowing hard, her hand fluttered over her throat. A few grains of sand were stuck to her skin, which was still warm from the sun.

  They faced each other, and Kate waited for him to crack a joke, to tell her it was a test to see how well she could stand up to the press’s questions. But he didn’t laugh. He just stared at her, then his lips parted ever so slightly. Big fingers brushed over hers, still resting on her throat. Her lips tingled just imagining another kiss, a private kiss meant for her, not the cameras. She could fall
into a kiss like that and never be found.

  No, no, no, her sensible self chanted. This is dangerous, this is bad. Kate made a mental note to toss Miss Sensible into the sea with a rock tied to her practical pumps.

  Teague brushed her hair off her face and ran his thumb across her cheekbone. Tilting her head back to look up at him, she suddenly stopped. Why was he doing this? There were no cameras, and certainly no attraction on his part. Just part of his nature, probably. Have woman in hotel room, must kiss her.

  Kate looked down; perhaps she could break the trance.

  His other hand wrapped around the back of her head and pulled her face up to his, knocking the breath out of her lungs. He nudged her nose with his and brushed his lips across hers, testing them. Testing her.

  She shivered, and he tightened his grip.

  Who wouldn’t want to kiss Teague Reynolds? It was pure female nature to want more. He was a luscious chocolate pie taunting her with a taste. It was useless to resist any longer. Kissing him didn’t mean she’d fallen for him. Not at all. Oh, hell. “I suppose we should practice making this look good.” Kate’s voice came out in a breathy whisper. “We want people to believe we’re attracted to each other, right?”

  His mouth spread into a delicious smile. “Right.” He ran his tongue along her upper lip, while she snaked her hands up his arms. Her knees dipped as he slowly licked her lips. Then he stopped when someone knocked on the door.

  “Room service.”

  Kate’s mouth hung open and she snapped it shut.

  Teague’s shoulders slumped, and he set his forehead against hers. “We’ll try that again later.” He smiled and offered his hand. “Come on. You’ve got to see this.”

  She felt like a kite that had fallen straight out of the sky. She even lost her appetite—and that hadn’t happened since the stomach flu knocked her on her butt a few years back. But after stepping outside, her hunger found its way back. A table, set with china and crystal and probably five different forks, sat beneath a small white tent. The white linen tablecloth rippled in the breeze. A waiter stood to the side, ready to serve them.

  Teague pulled out a gleaming teak chair for her and she sat down, hoping he couldn’t tell this was the fanciest damn thing she’d ever seen.

  Scalia’s could take a few notes here.

  Two candles flickered on the table in the blue-black evening. “Wait, what time is it? It’s dark out.” How had he managed all this?

  “It’s after six. The sun sets early here.” His face glowed in the candlelight, and she wanted to return to that kiss.

  But she yawned instead, being the temptress that she was. “Sorry,” she stifled a giggle. She was still tired from the time difference. She looked up at Teague across the table and smiled.

  “You like it?” He looked like a hopeful kid showing off his class project.

  She could only manage to nod. No one had ever done anything like this for her. She fingered the napkin in her lap. Her heart lodged in her throat, and she had to look away.

  The waiter poured their champagne, and she closed her eyes. The scent of the lingering coconut suntan lotion and the salty brine of the ocean left her swooning. She sipped her drink and let the bubbles tickle her tongue. The waves slapped against the shore and the night was so quiet it was easy to imagine they were alone on a desolate island. What would it be like to make love in the surf, she wondered.

  The waiter lifted the silver lid off her plate and the savory steak set her mouth watering. Yet she barely tasted the food. She was too busy replaying the scene in the bungalow. Had he been serious? He’d come back to be with her? He was going to kiss her because he wanted to and not because someone was going to take a picture of it?

  Kate’s insides hummed just thinking about it. So loudly, she could hear it inside her head. It was getting louder—a lot louder. What was wrong with her? She put her fork down and looked up. It was the thrumming of a helicopter flying toward them. A photographer leaned out the open door, pointing a camera at them, practically close enough to reach down and snag one of the shrimp cocktails.

  Teague threw his napkin on the table. He kicked at the sand, swearing, then grabbed the plate of strawberries. “Can you get our drinks?” he shouted.

  Kate snatched the champagne flutes and followed him inside, her hair swirling and her insides plummeting. Miss Sensible had kicked off her cement-filled shoes and clawed her way back to shore to add up all the facts. Teague must have known the photographers would find out about their private beach bungalow. That’s probably what he’d been doing up at the hotel, calling in a tip for them to come document this intimate moment with his new “love.”

  Lordy, she was a fool. He hadn’t set up a romantic dinner for them at all. He’d set up a photo op.

  He closed the door behind them, and she shoved the champagne bottle at him. “You can finish this. I’m going to bed.” She would not be played a fool like her mother had and give her heart to a hound. She was smarter than that. Clenching her teeth, she seethed.

  He reached for her but she jerked her arm away. She shivered in the chilly, air-conditioned room. Wrapping her arms around herself, she scanned the room as if there might be a secret hidey-hole back to her world. She couldn’t go outside; the photographer was probably still there. She was stuck in paradise with a man totally messing with her heart.

  Defeated, she flopped onto the couch and tucked herself into the corner. Was she more angry or sad? She couldn’t decide. She stole a glance at Teague, standing across the room, staring at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked ticked as all heck, but who knew if it was just an act?

  Still, her heart flip-flopped, watching him, despite the curse words rattling round in her head.

  This man should have come with a warning label.

  TEAGUE RAN HIS HAND through his hair. This was too much to take. The paparazzi weren’t just eating Kate alive; they were turning her into a five-course meal, much like the one he’d arranged outside. Curled up on the couch, she looked so vulnerable. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and continue where they’d left off before dinner. Only, he wasn’t sure if he’d get a kiss or a slap in return.

  He drew the curtain closed over the French doors leading to the patio. “Kate, I’m sorry. The press is more interested in you than I thought.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He set the champagne on the coffee table in front of her and knelt beside her. “You’re different from the typical actress or model I’m seen with. Not many Hollywood types do the Internet dating thing.” He softened his voice. “I didn’t anticipate all this. I’m sorry.” Of course she didn’t want anything to do with him. He was ruining her life. “Maybe things will die down tomorrow with the first premieres. They’ll have other people to stalk, other stories to follow.”

  “I just want to sleep,” she said in a thick voice. She wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t blame her.

  Although he was desperate to feel her lips against his again, he knew the best thing now was to leave her alone. “Take the bed.”

  She didn’t move off the couch, but he pulled back the bedcovers and fluffed the pillow, hoping she’d make herself comfortable. He went outside to give her some privacy. The bungalow was just one big room. There was no hiding from each other.

  He closed the door quietly, sat down in the lounge chair, and stared at the foamy waves lapping the shore, the swooshing sound of the sea taking his mind far away. His plan to become a star and keep anyone from getting close had worked. It was working perfectly tonight, he thought. Never thought it would backfire like this.

  When he had left home after high school, it was with zero regrets and one wish: to make sure he never loved someone more than they loved him. Somehow, the idea of being a star, of having so many people seeing him on TV or the big screen seemed like it might fill up his empty self-esteem.

  It hadn’t, he’d learned, after hitting it big three years earlier with a supp
orting role on Big and Bad. The fans loved him, and the producers gave him a bigger role on the show. That led to his first movie deal, then another, until he realized films were the way to go. It turned out his habit of hopping from girl to girl left an impression in the tabloids. That was okay with him, too. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t enjoyed it.

  His agent and publicist encouraged it. “Once you settle down, fans can’t imagine themselves with you as easily. The last thing you want is to get serious with someone for too long.”

  “Won’t be a problem,” he’d assured them. And it had been good fun. But never much more than that.

  So what was happening to him now? He glanced back at the bungalow and frowned. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about the woman who was here for ‘strictly business’? He jumped up from his chair and eased the door open, just wanting to talk to her, to hear her laugh. But she was asleep on the couch, long blue shadows and moonlight stretched out across her.

  After watching her sleep for a few moments, he slid his hands under her neck and thighs and lifted her, just like when he had carried her off the plane. The back of her legs were moist on his skin and he could only imagine how the rest of her would feel against him. She murmured in her sleep and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers teased the nape of his neck as if they were searching for something to take hold of.

  When he set her on the bed, her hair spread across the pillow, and her lips curled in the slightest smile. He breathed in her sweet scent, tinged with that coconut sunscreen from earlier. Remembering how nervous she’d been as he smoothed the lotion across her skin made him smile. Now he hovered over her again, wanting to kiss her, longing to hold her, hoping she’d wake and invite him to join her. “Kate?”

  Her dark lashes brushed her high cheekbones and she sighed in her sleep. He’d be happy just to wrap his arms around her and pull her to him. He’d burrow his nose in her neck, smelling the sweetness of her. That would be good. That would be enough. He didn’t even need to make love to her, though he wanted to fiercely. If she woke, she’d see the evidence for herself.