“I’m better with a crowd, and if you ask me a direct question I can answer it.” He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. He knew his shortcomings, the Marines had been excellent at helping him face his weakness and capitalize on his strengths. “I can talk about characters and story and my method for writing all day long as long as you feed me the question. Just don’t expect me to come up with spontaneous, interesting conversation with total strangers.”
“You did an excellent job. They were eating out of your hand.” She turned and gave him the side-eye. “So, why do you want to throw up?”
He groaned. How did he explain this part of it and not look like an asshole in front of the woman he hoped to convince to give him another “excursion-non-date”?
“It’s the one-on-one part that freaks me out. They hug me and ask me to sign their boobs and babies, and they tell me that they are naming their unborn child after a character in one of my books. They cry…” He rocked back on his heels, dropped his chin, and let out a long breath. “They cry a lot.”
“That’s amazing. It means you touched them with your writing, and they are dying for you to connect with them.” Kelsey turned and poked him in the side, and he flinched away when it threatened to tickle him. “You’re a nice guy, warm and funny. We have no trouble talking with each other. So, what’s the real problem, and what can we do to fix it?”
Her eyes were shrewd, assessing, and he knew he wouldn’t get away with some half-truth with her. Usually the publicists and his PA rolled their eyes when he balked at the PR stuff, but none of them asked why. Micah didn’t know how comfortable he was with the knowledge that Kelsey wouldn’t let him skate on the answer, but he liked that this girl asked in the first place.
He walked over to the wall of covers ignoring the weird looks from the two publicists sent by the convention organizers as they made last minute adjustments to the books on display on the table.
“The truth is that I don’t know what to say to them, and I’m terrified I’m going to let them down. Romance is not my choice of genre, but I respect that the readers have spent their hard-earned cash to buy my books. Then they spend more money to come to things like this.” He pointed at the covers. “They expect me to be like the heroes in my books, and those guys are larger-than-life on purpose. They do the right thing, they fuck like porn stars, and they always say the perfect thing. I write them so that even their fuck-ups make women fall more in love with them. I don’t want to ruin their experience by sounding stupid because I don’t have a script in front of me.”
She stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line of total disbelief.
“You can’t ruin it unless you’re a total asshole, and I don’t think you have an asshole bone in your body.”
“I do. My ex-wife was quite clear on that.”
“That’s a story for another day and completely off topic.” She looked over his shoulder at the women stacking even more books and cut her eyes back to him. “My job is to arrange things, fix things. You trust me to fix this for you?”
He considered her offer and glanced at the closed double doors that were the only thing between him and hundreds of fans who would expect him to smile and make small talk for several hours. He’d tried every other suggestion made by his publisher, always hoping for the key to making this work. It couldn’t hurt to try one more thing.
“Whatever you do, it can only be an improvement.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a confident smirk that made him want to kiss her all over again. She reached out and grabbed his arm, tugging him after her. “Come on, I’ll make you into a romance hero if it kills me.”
Chapter Eight
Thursday afternoon
Micah Holmes Fan Club Party
Micah was doing fine.
Yeah, he was still nervous, his grip on the pen in his hand was tight, and he forced his smile in each photo, but only someone who knew what his slow, feral grin really looked like would realize it. But he looked good all sexy and rumpled with his glasses and beard. He wore jeans, dark, heavy boots, and a black T-shirt that read “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Except for bears. Bears will kill you.” He was a stylist’s nightmare, but the fans ate it up.
His fans were insane. For him, about him, and some were likely just certifiable. But they stood for hours for the chance for a few minutes and a photo with him, and that alone was intimidating. She understood better what was freaking Micah out.
Kelsey stood to the side commandeering the two girls lent to the event by the convention organizers. One made sure the books were at the ready and took photos, while the other went person-by-person and jotted down key pieces of info on Post-it notes. The fan handed the note to Kelsey when they got to the table, and she teed up Micah with a softball tidbit of information about the fan or prompted them with a question for him.
So far it was working.
A woman named Angie moved to the table, her eyes huge and filling with tears as she looked down at Micah. She was a crier. He hadn’t been kidding when he said that his fans cried a lot when they met him. But it wasn’t true when he said he didn’t handle it well; he did fine. Micah didn’t leap up and grab them in a huge hug, but he did smile at them, maintain eye contact, and listen attentively as they gushed about their love for his books when they could.
Angie couldn’t. She was frozen in place with a big, fat tear rolling down her cheek, and Micah threw a helpless look in her direction
“Hey, Angie.” Kelsey stepped up to the lady and placed a hand on her arm. She waited in line a long time and she didn’t want her to miss out on her moment. “You said your favorite book is Love Found and Lost, right? What’s your favorite part?”
Angie blinked a couple of times and then smiled, her focus back on Micah. “I love the scene where Jonathon takes Evie out on the boat, and they get caught in the rain. He takes her back to the pier, and they end up dancing in the rain and he kisses her for the first time.” She let out a big sigh. “I reread it all the time.”
“I love that one, too. When he picks her up and carries her to the car is amazingly sexy, right?” Kelsey asked, ignoring the look of surprise on Micah’s face. “Is there a question you want to ask Micah while we get your book?”
“Yeah.” Angie was past the nerves and smiled down at Micah. “Did you base that scene on real life?”
Micah dipped his head as he began to sign the book for her. “The girl was real. The pier and the lake are still there. The rain storm happened.” He looked up and winked at Angie and ensured that if she wasn’t already in love with him, she was now. “And the rest will remain my secret to protect the guilty.”
Kelsey sighed a little along with Angie. Micah might think he wasn’t good at this and maybe he wasn’t the best, but when he got it right…he fucking got it right.
Maybe this was the solution to the superfan problem. She could offer to “third wheel” the event and help him out, run interference with Babette. It might work, and then it would be a win-win for everyone. She sighed at her crazy dream; Babette would never agree to that.
He handed over the book and then leaned in for the photo and smiled as she walked away.
“You’re doing great,” Kelsey leaned over to whisper in Micah’s ear. He kept his head dipped down but she could see the smile on his lips and the tiny shake of his head. “You are.”
“You’re holding my hand the whole way. It’s not me. I’m just good at following directions.
“Fine. You’re right. This is all me. Why are you even here?” She bumped him with her shoulder. “Get out of the chair, you big loser.”
He chuckled and grabbed his bottle of water, taking a drink and smiling over at her. Kelsey’s breath caught on her laughter, remembering how good his mouth felt on hers, the soft brush of his beard on her skin. He locked eyes with her and stopped, his bottle hovering in midair as whatever pulsed between them surged and popped.
Damn.
“You thirsty, Kel
sey?” His question was low and full of every dirty, sexy innuendo you could put in it.
Yeah. Damn.
She huffed out a quick laugh and shook her head. “I’m good. We’ll take a break after the next one, and I’ll get something then.”
“Suit yourself.”
Micah smirked, his lip lifting in a teasing, sexy shadow of his usual grin, and she cursed under breath. He tipped the bottle at her and then took another drink. She took a deep breath and turned to face the crowd once again. The next woman stepped up and all the butterflies inside were replaced by the feeling of the Titanic sinking in her belly.
Babette Forasch.
It shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. Babette was a huge fan and probably a member of the fan club. Hell, she was probably the President. She turned to face Babette and smiled, making introductions. “Mr. Holmes, this is Babette Forasch. Her husband is a highly valued, frequent guest of the Masquerade, and she is your biggest fan.”
Her voice sounded forced even to her own ears, so she made a mental note to dial back the enthusiasm. It would not do to make him suspicious.
Micah eyed her curiously before turning to Babette with a smile as he reached for a book from the pile. “It’s nice to meet you. Why don’t you tell me who your favorite character is while I sign a book for you?”
Kelsey barely had a moment to give Micah a mental thumbs up for pulling up one of the tried-and-true conversation starters she’d fed him all day when Babette got out of line and sidled around to Micah’s side of the table. Of course the wife of the VIP would be the one to break the rules. It made the situation not only potentially risky but also delicate from a guest relations standpoint.
Kelsey made eye contact with the security guy standing behind them, but Micah spied her movement and held them both off with a discreetly raised hand. The guard quickly assessed the situation, and while he remained where he was, his eyes were riveted on what was happening. All Kelsey could do was stand by and seethe.
Babette leaned over the table, her ample breasts lifted high and thrust so close to his face that Micah backed up a little bit. They were probably the best breasts Saul’s money could buy, and it was only natural that his eyes strayed to what she had on offer. Kelsey gripped the edge of the table, keeping the sharp spike of jealousy at bay. She had no right to feel possessive over Micah; in fact, the feeling was probably due to the fact that she disliked Babette and resented her impossible request.
Babette didn’t take the body language cues but leaned in even closer, her hot pink lips spread in a wide, leering smile. “My favorite character is Lucas James in Silent Winter.”
“Really? Why is that?” Micah cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up on his nose, keeping his gaze fixated on the book he was signing.
If Babette got any closer to Micah, she’d be wearing the same shirt, but it didn’t prevent Kelsey from hearing her breathy reply.
“Because he fucks his woman like he’s going to die if he doesn’t have her. I read those scenes and pretend I’m her.” Babette giggled and traced a fingernail up Micah’s arm and then played with the hem of his T-shirt sleeve. “That guy is an insatiable animal, and I wonder if you get as dirty as he does when you get a woman in bed.”
Whoa. Kelsey blinked. The security guard coughed. She wished she had a rewind button so she could make sure she’d heard her right.
Micah cleared his throat, his pen poised over the book as his neck flushed red. “That’s the beauty of fiction. I get to sit around and make stuff up all day.”
“Well, that’s a real good imagination you’ve got there. I’m sure you can use it in all parts of your life,” Babette cooed, and Kelsey had to step in and break this up before she had to pass out barf bags. People were starting to stare, and that was not a good thing. She put on her best concierge smile and got the little nightmare moving along.
“Excellent question, Mrs. Forasch! Do you have a camera? I’d be happy to take a photo of the two of you.”
Babette paused, her irritation at the interruption apparent, and Kelsey knew that this little incident would come back and bite her in the ass. Just one more reason to make sure Babette got what she wanted and didn’t have any reason to hold a grudge.
Kelsey took Babette’s blinged-out phone and pressed the camera icon as the two subjects of the photograph smiled and leaned into the frame.
“I’ll take a couple of shots to make sure we get a good one,” Kelsey said as she looked at the image on the screen. Babette looked predatory; Micah appeared nauseous but he held the pose while she took one, then two, and a third for good measure.
If she hadn’t been focused on the scene, she might have missed the slide of Babette’s hand over his thigh and between his legs. But she didn’t. Micah jumped and banged against the bottom of the table, knocking over the stacks of books and causing his water bottle to roll off and land on the floor with a sloshy thud.
Babette laughed, her devious chuckle making her breasts jiggle as she straightened up and adjusted her short skirt.
“Thanks, Micah. I’ll see you soon,” she said with a not-so-subtle sly eye aimed at Kelsey.
“Thanks for coming, Mrs. Forasch,” she said, placing her hand on the woman’s back to steer her away from the table.
“Are you still working on my request, Kelsey?” Babette asked, not even trying to keep her voice down. Kelsey caught the quick glance from Micah, curious but distracted by the movements of the other assistants as they righted the stack of books on the table. “I expected to hear from you by now.”
Kelsey grabbed her elbow and pulled her further away. “I’m working on it, I promise you.”
“I hope you can deliver on that promise.” Babette’s gaze was hard and assessing, and Kelsey knew she wouldn’t hesitate to fuck up her career if she didn’t make this happen. She wasn’t surprised. You didn’t get to be the wife of Saul Forasch if you weren’t a woman who only played to win.
Kelsey watched her walk away, leaving behind a knot in the pit of her stomach and the harsh reality of how little wiggle room she had here.
“Fuck,” she mumbled under breath, letting out a yelp of surprise when she turned and saw Micah standing behind her. He reached out to steady her, his eyes searching and his expression inquisitive.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kelsey pushed her hair behind her ear and made sure she smiled, leaning in as if she was sharing a secret. “She has a little bit of a crush on you.”
“I noticed.” He groaned and jammed his hands in his pockets, a gesture she already recognized. “She was enthusiastic.”
“You’re very diplomatic, Mr. Holmes.”
“I’m a little bit scared of her.” Now it was his turn to lean in and tell her a secret. “She tried to grab my nuts. Did you see that? I’m traumatized.”
Inside she cringed at how much more difficult Babette had made her assignment, but she had to agree.
“You are? I had to actually look at it happening up close on the screen.”
“No comparison,” he insisted. “No. Comparison. At. All.”
“We will have to agree to disagree.”
“So what did she ask you to do? What was she talking about?” he asked and her stomach dropped into the toes of her stilettos. Shit. She hadn’t thought he’d heard, and after what happened, now was not the time to introduce the idea of his spending more time with Babette.
“Just a special excursion request. Typical stuff.” She shrugged as if it was nothing. “Come on,” she gestured to the area behind the bank of folding screens. “Now is a great time for you to take a break.”
A quick signal to the assistants and the announcement was made that Micah was taking a short break, and they scooted out of sight. Behind the screens was a storage area for boxes of books, but there was also of cooler full of bottled water. Kelsey reached in and snagged two, the cold moisture against the skin of her hand making her suck in a sharp breath at the contrast in sensation. She hand
ed one to Micah, and they found a stack of boxes tall enough to make a perch for them the lean on.
He was close to her in the small space, his arm brushing hers as they both gulped down the cool water. Kelsey hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she took the first sip. This close she could smell his cologne, woodsy and sharp, it was warm and sexy; very much Micah.
“I feel like I’ve been talking for hours,” she said, placing the cap back on the bottle and stretching her neck from side-to-side.
“You have been talking for hours,” he answered, nudging her with his elbow. “Thanks for what you did out there. You helped me out so much.”
She shrugged. “Years of facilitating meet and greets with guests at the hotel and I’ve perfected the conversational softball.”
“That was major league playing out there,” he answered, his gaze landing on her face and staying there. This proximity made her nervous, her belly tightening with the effect his body heat and scent had on her. She kept her eyes glued on her shoes, trying to maintain some distance between them after last night and earlier today. He did nothing to shield his attraction, and she had no doubt that her own longing would show if he got a good look at her. “You sure know a lot about my books.”
She rolled her eyes and smirked self-consciously, willing to give him this. “I’ve read them all. Many times.”
“Really?” He dipped his head to catch her eyes, and she had to look at him. “You’re a Micah Holmes fan?”
She refused to answer that question. His cocky grin pissed her off a little bit, and she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction or the leverage. Besides, it could lead to conversations about her past and what her future looked like when she let her own dreams loose—dreams that belonged between the pages of books like the ones in the boxes around her because they rarely happened in real life.
Kelsey reached over and grabbed a container of brownies a fan had brought him earlier today. It lay in a pile of homemade quilts and blankets, jewelry, and other items crafted lovingly by readers who loved his books.
Her Secret Lover (What Happens in Vegas) Page 6