by Cara Dee
I nod. “Sounds like a plan. Do you want to go to that bistro we went to the other day?”
“Ooh, yeah. Their salmon wrap was delicious.”
I can’t help but grin as I drape an arm around her shoulders. “Even with all those vegetables in it?”
“Yes, even then.” She throws me a playful glare, at which I hug her closer to me and kiss her on the forehead.
Fuck, I’m falling for her. It’s so soon.
She lights up every corner of my life.
“Don’t forget our dinner reservations,” she reminds me.
Good reminder, because I had forgotten. “Perhaps we could check in to a hotel in Salt Lake—that’s closer,” I suggest. Because driving back and forth tomorrow as well doesn’t appeal to me. We’re in Park City now, of course, and it means we have more than an hour-long drive home. And if we’re going to the Grey Goose event tonight, I really don’t feel like driving.
If I call my assistant, I’m sure he can find a room for us, even in the tourist mayhem of Sundance. Money, not to mention my name, talks.
“That sounds wonderful.” She hugs my arm. Unable to help myself, I dip down and give her a chaste kiss on the lips right before we reach the bistro we dined at recently. “I love this.”
I tilt my head, holding the door open for her. “What do you mean?”
She blushes, though it’s as much from the cold. “Us,” she responds softly. “Whether we’re Dean and Gemma or, you know, anything in between, it’s as easy as breathing.”
My chest expands at her admission, and I loathe having to be careful.
“It’s very mutual, Gem,” I murmur.
“I love that, too.” She nods and enters the bistro. “You’ve called me Gem a lot lately.”
I know. It fits her.
Approximately twenty minutes later, we’ve finally been seated at a table by a window; the Sundance Festival makes Utah fill up to the brim, it seems. Wherever you go, there are people.
A waitress soon arrives and takes our orders, and I settle on a pasta dish with truffle sauce, and Gemma gets her salmon wrap with a side of French fries. Since the establishment is so crowded, I order starters for us, too. If the food takes a long time to get here, at least we will have something to sink our teeth into.
In fact, it barely takes two minutes for our wine, side salads, and mozzarella toast to arrive.
“It’s not often you drink white wine,” Gemma comments as the waitress disappears again. “I think I’ve only seen you drinking red.”
I smile and pick up a piece of toast, holding it up for her to taste.
I don’t miss the lust-filled glance she gives me before she lets me feed her a bite.
“Mmm,” she moans softly. “So good.”
Fuck.
“Little vixen,” I whisper with a shake of my head.
I have only myself to blame.
In an attempt to make it easier on my cock, I change the topic, and we talk about the festival for a while. Gemma is without a doubt the happiest about all the gift bags she has received. This is the third day of Sundance, and we have been to quite a few events.
“Damn,” I say, suddenly remembering something. “I didn’t bring the invites for tonight.” The exclusive dinner Grey Goose is hosting is by invitation only, and I didn’t actually plan to go. I got the tickets through work, of course—that’s how I get most of my invitations to such events—but I rarely attend. I guess going alone doesn’t do it for me.
“Oh, I have them.” She grins. “I saw them on the kitchen counter this morning and put them in my bag before we left.”
I chuckle, and I shouldn’t be surprised. Lately, she’s been more eager to please and take care of me.
“I guess we’ll have to be extra careful tonight, though,” she says pensively.
True. I can only imagine that it will be packed with celebrities, and if I’m not noticed there, Gemma certainly will be.
“Only a few more weeks.” I squeeze her hand on top of the table. “We’ll be able to relax more in Hawaii.”
I can’t say we’re hiding now, either, but it’s not like I can kiss her whenever I want.
“I can’t wait,” she says giddily, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s been years since I was there.”
“I’m looking forward to it, as well. Though, I suppose you will have a bit more fun. I have meetings most days.”
She pouts. “You can take some time off, can’t you?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” I pick up her hand and kiss the top of it. “I plan to wine and dine you properly.”
She leans a little closer, a seductive smile playing on her lips. “Sixty-nine me, too?”
I bark out a laugh in surprise, and then try to cover it up with a couple fake coughs when a few guests around us turn to look at us.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, clearing my throat. “You, Ms. Delaney, are dangerous.”
But, yes. Yes, I want to sixty-nine her, too.
I groan quietly and try to get rid of that thought for now.
Fuck, how I love that just being around Gem makes the outside world disappear. We always enter this private bubble, and I have no desire ever to leave it.
*
As soon as Patrick, my PA, has managed to secure a hotel room for us in Salt Lake City, Gem tells me she wants to go shopping for tonight. I’m spared from this, thankfully, so I drop her off before I drive over to the hotel.
It’s approximately two hours later that she enters our suite with four massive shopping bags in hand.
“Daddy, you might wanna check this out while I shower,” she says, handing me two…uh, gossip rags. I arch a brow at her, and she nods at the magazines. “The event tonight attracts more people than we thought. There’s bound to be someone there we know.” With that said, she kisses me softly on the lips and heads for the bathroom.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I flip through the first magazine, and when I reach the middle, I see a big spread on Grey Goose’s first event—which was two days ago. There’s one every night during the festival.
Gemma is right. Countless celebrities smiled for the cameras at Monday’s premiere, and if we show up there tonight, it’s only a matter of days before Tina finds out.
She’s already going to be blindsided by our new relationship, and there’s no need to make things worse. In the event that Gem and I end up being photographed, it’s best Tina already knows her daughter is here.
It’s with a heavy sigh I bring out my phone and start typing a message to Tina.
If I call her, whatever I say will lead to follow-up questions I’m not ready to answer.
I’m attending the Grey Goose event tonight with Gemma. She’s spending some time here, too.
There. Disaster averted. Or, perhaps not, but I’m limited to what I’ll confess over a goddamn text.
My phone rings less than a minute later.
“Hell.” She read that fast.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I picture all the ways this conversation could go. Horribly, in each direction. It’s a talk we should have face-to-face.
I silence my phone.
Then I walk over to Gem’s shopping bags, knowing she bought something for me, too. While she was out, she texted me enough times to make me laugh, wanting to know my measurements and preference on colors. And yes, there we go. I peer into one of the bags, hoping it’s nothing too out there. Kids these days wear the strangest things.
Thankfully, she’s kept it simple. I pull out a pair of dark jeans and a black button-down.
By the time I’ve changed into my new clothes, Gem emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a towel. She’s wearing light makeup, and her hair is gathered in two low pigtails.
“Is this too much makeup?” she asks nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. “I know you prefer me without…”
I shake my head and close the distance between us. I grasp her chin, brushing the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip. There’s
only a little lip balm on it. “You’re so incredibly beautiful,” I murmur. With a simple tug of my fingers, her towel ends up on the floor, revealing a deliciously naked Gem. I hum and trail a finger down her neck, her collarbone…
“Daddy,” she breathes out, giggling. “You’re making me all wet.”
I smirk down at her. “I like my little girl all wet.”
She doesn’t spend the following thirty minutes getting dressed. Instead, she spends that time bent over the couch while I pound into her from behind.
The half hour after that, though…
*
The crowded event is buzzing, and I see well-known faces everywhere. Despite the fact that Gem and I don’t know these people, many still smile and greet us as if we’re friends.
“Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?” I ask in Gemma’s ear.
It’s quite difficult not to let my eyes linger on her cleavage, but in my defense, it wasn’t until we arrived and she took off her jacket that I actually saw what she’s wearing. The baby doll-like top offers plenty of cleavage, and it’s testing my restraint. I’m not the only one who has noticed, either.
“Yes, please,” she agrees.
With my hand on her lower back, I usher us through the crowd of people. Once we reach the bar, we’re unfortunately recognized again and approached.
“Well, if it isn’t Gemma Delaney and Dean Gauthier!” a woman exclaims.
I have no idea who she is. She’s a blonde, my age, and has an evident love for Botox.
As if she can read my mind, Gem pulls me down and speaks for only me to hear. “She’s a friend of Tina’s.”
Lovely.
“Name?” I ask as the woman closes the distance.
Gemma doesn’t answer me, but my question still gets answered when she plasters a fake smile on her face and says, “Lydia. What a surprise.”
“It certainly is,” Lydia responds and gives Gem an air kiss. “Nice to see you, too, Dean.”
I incline my head. “Likewise.”
“So…” The corners of her mouth turn up a little. “What are you two doing here—together?”
Gemma, having grown up in the spotlight, is a terrific actress. “We’re family, Lydia.”
Lydia hums then turns to me. “And where’s your lovely fiancée this evening?”
“Tina is getting ready for her next film,” I reply.
“I see.” She smirks, and I’m not sure she believes us. “Well, it was nice to see you two. Gemma, we should get together in LA. Lunch—The Ivy, hmm?”
“Of course,” Gem lies. “Have a nice evening.”
We watch as Lydia saunters off, and right after Gem has turned for the bar again, I see Lydia bringing out her phone.
I sigh, shaking my head.
“I don’t get it!” Gem says, frustrated, and throws her hands up. “Why keep up a charade? ‘Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Gemma.’ Blah, blah, blah. Lunch—with her—at The Ivy?” She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Please. She’d rather dye her hair gray than hang out with the black sheep of the Delaney family.” The bartender gives Gem’s cleavage attention, much to my own frustration, and we order our drinks. “I’m willing to bet she’s gonna call Tina within twenty minutes. Mark my words.”
Amused, I grasp her chin and tilt it in Lydia’s direction. “I’ll take that bet and say she’s on the phone with her right now.”
Being the adorable girl that she is, Gem sticks out her tongue at the oblivious Lydia.
“Relax, dear,” I chuckle as our drinks arrive. “Here—drink this.” I slide the pink drink over to her and keep the drink that looks like a Coke for myself. We didn’t order anything specific since this is a night where Grey Goose hands out their own concoctions for free. “We have nothing to worry about, remember?”
She blows out a breath and nods before taking a sip. “You’re right—and this is delicious.” She grins at the glass.
“So is this one,” I admit, tasting Coke, vodka, and lime on my tongue. There’s something else, too, but I can’t put my finger on it. “Would you like to try?”
“Thank you.” She accepts my glass, holding out her own in offering while she takes a sip from mine. I decline with a shake of my head. Her drink is a bit too pink for my liking. “Mmm, I think there’s mint in this one.”
“That’s it!” Mint, yes, that’s what I tasted. It was subtle, but now that she pointed it out… “It was good, yes?”
“Mine was better.” She’s about to snuggle close to me but catches herself. My heart twists uncomfortably at the sight of her face falling.
Dipping down to her level, I whisper in her ear. “Tell me if you want to leave.”
She forces a smile and shakes her head. “I’m okay.”
“Don’t lie to me, young lady.” I give one of her pigtails a little tug. “You wouldn’t want to end this night with Daddy turning your ass red and denying you to come, would you?”
“You don’t play fair,” she complains, fisting my shirt with one hand. I smile and drop a subtle kiss on her jaw before straightening. “Now I want to leave, but for a whole other reason.”
She’s about to say something else, but then she shoves her hand down into her pocket. “My phone’s ringing,” she explains. “Huh, it’s Nina.”
“Go ahead—answer.”
While she takes her friend’s call, I lean back against the bar to people-watch and sip my drink.
“Hey, Nina,” I hear her say happily. “It’s all good, and you?” Despite being used to the Hollywood life, I keep myself removed from the worst of it as much as I can, so I admit I get a little excited when I see an actor I like. They’re rare in masses of reality show stars. “Wait—what? What do you mean?” I tilt my head in Gem’s direction. “Oh, fuck.” I frown and watch how her face drains of color. “God—no, no, no.” Setting my drink aside, I face her fully and try to get her attention. She palms her forehead, panic in her eyes as she finally looks up at me. “Um, I gotta go. I’ll call you, all right?” She blows out a breath. “Yeah, okay. Bye.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She swallows and appears to be in a daze. “That was my friend—remember I told you about Nina?” I nod. Nina is the girl whose brother wanted Gemma to help out on his band’s album. “Right. Uh, she just told me that you and I are all over the internet.” My brows furrow. “And according to her, the photos aren’t very innocent.”
Chapter 12
One picture is of us entering that French bistro together. It’s technically innocent, but it manages to look intimate. Another photo is of me kissing her on the forehead. There’s one where we’re inside the bistro, holding hands over the table.
Not so innocent, no.
“I will take care of everything.” I give her hand a squeeze. Then I reluctantly let go and step on the gas. “I need to call my assistant.” Holding the wheel with one hand, I bring out my phone with the other. “Can you initiate the call for me so I can hear it on the speakers?” I give her the phone and then hold the wheel with both hands. The snow is coming down heavily, and I don’t want to get us into an accident.
“It’s Patrick, right?”
I nod. “Just push dial.”
Once Gem had gotten off the phone with Nina and she explained it all to me, we left the Grey Goose event quickly. After a quick stop in Salt Lake to get our stuff from the hotel, we decided to go home.
Our vacation is over.
My gut clenches, not because our bubble has burst, but because it’s going to get ugly. It’s a certainty.
“Dean—Jesus fucking Christ!” That’s Patrick’s greeting over the phone. “Maria’s furious. She’s been trying to reach you for hours!”
I smile stiffly, now regretting that I turned off my phone earlier. “Hello to you, too, Patrick.”
“I’m not on the clock,” he replies flatly. “Right now, you’re just the bastard who’s preventing me from going to sleep.”
“I like him,” Gem giggles quietly.
; I shoot her a playful glare before returning my attention to the road.
“Fill me in, please,” I tell Patrick. “You said Maria’s been calling?” She’s my publicist, and I cannot wait to talk to her. Sarcasm.
“You can say that. She wants you in LA right away. While she doesn’t really give a flying fuck about your personal life, it looks pretty bad with the launching of ‘the perfect family getaway’ in Hawaii. Especially when the owner of the hotel is out doing God knows what with his stepdaughter.” He coughs. “Who is hot as hell but almost twenty years younger than you. By the way, is it true?”
I blow out a breath and give Gem a sideways glance.
“She’s right here,” I say tightly. “She can hear you.”
“Um, hi,” Gem says, smiling awkwardly.
“Oh, shit! So, it’s true? How the fuck did you manage to land Gemma fucking Delaney? I’d give a million bucks to get on tha—”
“Good thing you don’t have anything near a million bucks,” I respond irritably.
Hell, what is that—jealousy?
“Right.” He clears his throat. “Sorry about that. Uh—hello, Ms. Delaney. Please excuse my language.”
“It’s okay,” Gem chuckles.
“Patrick,” I say, eager to get back on track, “Gemma and I will fly out tomorrow.” Unfortunately. “Tell Maria to come by my office around two.”
“Got it. Will you both be there—Ms. Delaney, too?”
“Yes.”
Gemma gives me a nervous smile.
“And, uh, the other Ms. Delaney?”
I grimace. “That would be a no.” I’m pretty sure Tina wants to meet me without publicists first.
“All right. I’ll book the flight and a car for you. Can I go to sleep now?”
“By all means.” I end the call.
Though we knew our bubble was going to burst one day, we sure didn’t expect for it to burst so…publicly. I take the blame for that. I haven’t been as careful as I should have been.
“Daddy?”
“What is it, sweet girl?” I reach for her hand again, wanting her close.