by Gabbi Grey
I couldn’t help smiling at her long-suffering sigh.
“Hit me with it.”
“My co-star is Cole Hamilton, not Lindy Doshi.”
Counting down from five in my head, I made it to two before the “holy hell” rang through loud and clear.
“And you were going to tell me this when?”
My bad. “I only found out the day before yesterday, and I was busy with the script and then last night with Thomas, and well, things got away from me. Louis will be able to spin this, right?”
“Yes, he will. Going to make for some interesting rumors. You coming out about Desmond?”
I shot Thomas a look, but he didn’t appear surprised. Curious, yes, but not shocked. “That’s no one’s business.” My tone was sharper than necessary, but L.J. knew the score, and nothing had changed. “He’s got four kids and three ex-wives. The last thing they need is to be questioned.” To the best of my knowledge, none of them was aware. I’d never been around his house when any of them came to visit.
More clicking of fingernails. “Peter, that might be a moot point.”
Aw shit, seriously? “What now?” No point trying to hide the exasperation from my voice.
“His eldest daughter just did an interview that posted moments ago. I quote, ‘My father, Desmond Lau, was gay, and Peter Erickson was his secret lover for years.’ ”
Another couple of clicks. Man, the woman’s fingernails were lethal weapons.
“You want me to deny this?”
Thomas met my gaze head-on. Poleaxed. For ten years I’d loved on the down-low, and now, in less than twelve hours, I’d been outed, and my relationship uncovered.
“L.J., it’s Thomas. Don’t issue a denial—there’s no point. Worst-kept secret, you know?”
“I do.” Her voice was cautious.
“Tell them Peter needs to focus on filming right now, but he’ll make a statement when he’s ready. Maybe find a sympathetic reporter who can do a sit-down interview? Someone legit.”
“I know someone at Vanity Fair.”
“That’ll take too long.” Thomas, ever efficient.
“We’ll go with their digital first. He was never likely to make the cover anyway.”
No, but this would be a big story. “We’re at the studio, L.J. I’ll text you once I have the dinner plans figured out. Signing off.” I hit the button to disconnect the call. I had tremendous respect for the woman, but now wasn’t the time.
Thomas glanced out the window and frowned. “We won’t be there for a few minutes.”
“I know, but we’re alone, and I want to talk.”
Tipping his head toward the driver, he mouthed “not alone.”
“I’m sure she’ll be respectful.” We weren’t speaking very loud anyway, and I’d been observing the woman. Not once had she glanced in the rearview mirror at us. Likely she’d overhear us, but she was probably unwilling to risk her job to tell the tabloids, what? That we were together? The photographs of the two of us getting in the SUV had taken care of any lingering doubts.
“Yeah, Jo’s great.” His smile came easy. “Well, Josephine. But never call her that.”
I cut a quick glance to the woman. The corners of her mouth were twitching. Respectful but able to overhear. Good to know. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. It’s all happened so fast, and what happened back on set… You’re not used to it.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “I’m a big boy, Peter. I’ve been caught off guard, but I’m swift enough to figure it out.”
“Is there someone who will need to be told?”
His eyes sharpened. “I told you I’m single and have always been. I need to let my family know, but I can do that over lunch. For now my focus is getting you ready for the shoot.” He pulled out his phone and checked it. “Did Janine text you? Do you know which scene you’re supposed to be prepping for?”
Even knowing that text hadn’t arrived, I checked. Radio silence. Most likely, in all the confusion, she’d forgotten. From the little I knew of her, that was out of character. Just more proof this clusterfuck had rattled everyone.
“About what I said…” Thomas met my gaze, and those large brown eyes again took me in.
“I won’t hold you to any of it.” I suspected this was about the sex thing, but I couldn’t be sure.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Out of my depth.”
God, that must’ve hurt. “So am I, in a sense. I’ve had a physical relationship, and an emotional one, I suppose, but I’ve never shared that with anyone. I’d presumed I’d stay in the closet for the rest of my life.”
A little giggle escaped from Thomas’s lips. “How’s that working out?”
I punched him on the shoulder lightly. Our eyes met, and I knew. I just knew. My seat belt was tight, but I shifted over a bit. Putting my hand behind his neck, I had his full attention. “I like you, Thomas. Hell, I think you’re sexy as fuck.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“To me, you’re exactly what I’m looking for and didn’t realize. Now that I have you, even for this short time, I want to take advantage.”
“I want that too.” His words were made on a breathy exhalation.
Putting pressure on his head, I angled him toward me. I held his gaze until our lips met, and then my eyes drifted shut. Just a light pressing of lips. Just a nice to meet you kiss. Just—
His hands snaked around my neck, and he dragged me closer. Lips parted, I thrust my tongue in his warm mouth. His kiss was unschooled but erotic as all hell. I was most likely the first man he’d done this with. What a heady feeling. My heart lightened a bit. Reassured me. And my cock didn’t mind the feeling either. It twitched much as it had yesterday. It’d been more on the ball than I had about my attraction to Thomas. Not just physically, although there was that for sure. More, though. I wanted to know the person behind the façade.
Pulling back for a break, I leaned my forehead against his, our ragged breaths mingling.
“We’re here.”
Jo’s words were like a bucket of cold water being upended on me. Tinted windows prevented anyone from seeing in, but our cocoon of solitude was shattered. We were no longer alone in the world.
“Peter, you’re here at stage five, and Thomas, you’re expected in the production office.”
So that was it. Our little interlude was over. I pressed a broken kiss to his lips. Pulling back, I whispered, “This isn’t over.” Before he could respond, I was out of the vehicle and headed blindly toward a building.
“Sir.”
I spun. Jo was hard on my heels.
She pointed in the opposite direction.
Well, shit.
Thomas slipped from the SUV, ducked his head, and headed in another direction.
“He’ll be fine.”
Meeting Jo’s gaze, I frowned. She was a tall woman with short-cropped dark hair and hazel eyes. Eyes that saw too much.
God, I hoped she was right.
Chapter Eight
“Another sigh like that one and I’ll boot your ass out of the office.” Lorraine adjusted her glasses, never looking up from the screen. “Hell, sigh again and I’ll get Janine to send you home.”
I wadded up the paper I’d been doodling on and tossed it at her head. It missed, hit the wall by her ear, and landed in the garbage pail. Did that count as a hit or a miss?
Snagging my phone, I checked the text messages for the umpteenth time. I’d messaged Sarah and my dad over three hours ago. Nothing. No response. I couldn’t remember the last time they hadn’t responded right away—usually to chastise me for having gone so long between communications. Okay, I wasn’t great about keeping in touch. Didn’t mean I didn’t care. Didn’t love them. Sometimes I could almost forget what a disappointment I was to them.
“Yo, Thomas.”
Her tone indicated I’d zoned again. I glanced up.
She was looking at me and not her screen. “You okay?”
<
br /> Well, not really. My new fake boyfriend was in another building having hot and sweaty pretend sex with one of the sexiest guys on the planet who was apparently into guys. Why would Peter want to be with me if he could get a piece of Cole Hamilton? “Yeah, I’m okay. Just wondering when they’ll break for the day.”
Lorraine pulled out her phone. “Not for a bit.”
They’d taken a lunch break several hours ago, but Lisette had insisted Cole and Peter spend the time together, reviewing their scene. I supposed Peter could’ve argued, but no one argued with Lisette. She wanted him focused on the work. Had he been distracted? Was he thinking about me while fucking—?
“Yo, Thomas.”
“What?” Sharper than I intended, but I wanted her to leave me alone so I could obsess in peace.
Lorraine pulled a sheet of paper off the printer. “Make five copies and distribute to everyone on the list.”
At last, something to do. I made the copies and left on a mission to track down these people. Most people read their schedules from the emails we sent, but some preferred it in writing so they could post it in their area. Our job was not to thrust twenty-first century tech on those unwilling souls, but to accommodate them as best as we could. At least this gave me something to do.
After delivering the last copy, I stepped out in the sun, planning to take a moment. As I did, my phone rang.
Dad.
Well, better to get it over with, right? “Hey, Dad.”
“Hello, Thomas.”
I tried to get a feeling from those two words, but it proved impossible. My father wasn’t one to waste words anyway. “You got my text?”
“Obviously. But your sister showed me the story on the computer this morning. That was an interesting photograph.”
Interesting? If ever there were a dreaded word, that was right up there with nice and fine.
“Was that tiger tail ice cream? I thought it might be.”
Something in my chest loosened. “Yeah, Dad. I was eating tiger tail, and Peter was eating rum raisin.”
He made some noncommittal noise.
“I remember when you used to take me to Pop’s Shoppe.” God, please let that be the right thing to say.
“Those were good memories.” Another pause. “Why did you think I wouldn’t want to know, Thomas? Have your mother or I ever given you an indication we wouldn’t understand?”
“No.” The word came out forcefully. This was exactly what I’d feared. “You and Mom have always been amazing, Dad. I just…didn’t know how to tell you. Didn’t want to disappoint you.” Aw, shit. “And there hasn’t been anyone. Not until now.”
“And this man, this Peter, is he good to you? Does he take care of you?”
My heart seized. “I don’t know him that well, Dad, but he cares. He’s a great guy.” Who was only a fake boyfriend, but I’d never tell that to my dad. He had to believe this was real. “Sarah and Mom know?”
“Of course. We have no secrets here, Thomas.”
Oh, how I wished that was true. If they only knew the secrets I held close to my heart. The real reason I rarely came home.
“We were thinking of making a trip down to see you.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Would two weeks work for you?”
Oh sure, they couldn’t come down just to see me, but they could make time for Peter? I tried to tell myself they were concerned about my welfare, but it stung. “The shooting schedule is crazy, and then Peter’s going back to LA, so I don’t know if we can make it work.”
“Will you be going back to LA with him?”
Again, I nearly dropped the phone. How had I not seen this question coming? “This is still new. We’re not making any long-term plans right now.”
“Is he using you?”
“Uh…” How the fuck was I supposed to answer that? Yes, he was using me. But wasn’t I doing the same thing? Without him, I’d have never come out. “Look, Dad, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll be in touch next week to see if we can make a visit work.”
“Yes, of course.”
I’d almost clicked off when he spoke again.
“We love you, Thomas. We always have, and we always will. I’m proud of you, Son.”
Okay, like that wasn’t going to make me cry. I held back and choked out a goodbye before ending the call. In twenty-seven years, my father had told me he was proud of me only a handful of times. Not so much because I was a fuck-up or that he wasn’t aware of his words. No, just compared to Luke I’d always fallen short. Maybe one day I’d accept kind words from my family without being overwhelmed with feelings of guilt.
Nah, probably not. Life was too complicated.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text. From Peter.
Can you make reservations for tonight? Wherever you want. And text L.J.?
He included L.J.’s number, and the reality of the situation hit home as I pulled up the listings for Italian restaurants. As much as I wanted to take him to Marco’s, I wasn’t willing to do that. The restaurant’s cachet was the fact only those in the know actually knew the place. Bringing the media wasn’t likely to go over well. Landing on Pepino’s, I pressed send. They were on Commercial Drive and so had a high enough profile already. Fingers crossed this would all work out.
****
Awkward. No other word existed for it. Normally, at the end of my workday at the studio, I hopped a bus that’d take me across the Lion’s Gate Bridge to downtown Vancouver. I’d grab my regular bus home, and the trip would take no more than a half hour. On a good day I hitched a ride.
Today I sat in the back of an SUV being driven by Jo. Sure, she might do this for a living, but it didn’t make me any more comfortable. If Peter’s rigid stance was any indication, he wasn’t thrilled with this either.
“I’d have been happy snagging a cab, but the studio insisted.” He muttered the words under his breath.
Since I barely heard them, in no way could Jo. “She’s also a level of protection.” I hoped to God we wouldn’t need her to run interference. She’d do it and do it well. She was one of the strongest women I knew but carried herself as unassuming.
Peter grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I missed seeing you today. That’s crazy, right? We hardly know each other.”
“I missed you too.” There, that was easier to admit than I might’ve imagined. “I think it’s because I felt uncertain.”
He caressed my temple and feathered his fingers through my hair. “Why? I said I wanted this, and I’m serious.”
Was I supposed to play it cool or be brutally honest? Pretend everything was okay or come clean?
“Because you were naked with Cole Hamilton all day.” Yeah, and saying that didn’t make me pathetic? I expected to be laughed at, but only compassion existed in those deep green eyes.
“I could say it’s just a job, and that’d be true because it is. I could tell you that Cole let it slip he’s interested in someone he’s known since he was a child, but that’d be impolitic of me.”
Okay, that made me smile.
“I’m not interested in Cole. Objectively, I can say he’s an attractive man, and he’s a lot of fun, but he doesn’t capture my attention. Doesn’t make me want to tell people to hurry so I could get on to my date.”
Pleasure suffused my cheeks with heat. Even if they were just words, they were nice words.
“I’m serious, Thomas.” He snagged my jaw. “I see you’re questioning my words. Whether it’s because so little time has passed or because I haven’t given you a reason to trust me, I need you to believe me. I’ll always be honest with you. I promise.”
“Okay.” Not that I expected him to keep his word. Everyone lied. Little ones like I like that shirt to doozies like it’s not you, it’s me. But, for tonight at least, I’d accept what he said at face value. I wouldn’t look for ulterior motives.
Jo cleared her throat as she turned right from Hastings Street onto Commercial Drive. “If there’s parking out
front, I’ll pull over, get out, and come around to open your door. If there isn’t, I’ll pull around the corner, and we’ll do the same thing. Neither of you gets out of the vehicle without my permission, got it?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Peter said the words, echoing my sentiments. He pulled me in for a hard, quick kiss, and then we were pulling over to the curb. Jo got out and came around to the back-passenger door where I sat. I’d removed my seatbelt, as had Peter, so we slipped easily out.
There were two photographers who kept their distance as we made the few steps to the restaurant. Peter held the door for me as Jo disappeared back toward the vehicle. It took mere moments before we were secure in the restaurant. An attractive older gentleman ushered us to a table near the back. There wouldn’t be any intimate photos of us eating spaghetti because no view was afforded from the street. Probably just as well—I usually wound up wearing my food.
Peter grabbed the wine list and scanned it. After a moment, he looked up. “Would you like to share a bottle?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I could count on two hands the number of times I’d drunk wine. I was a beer guy when I drank. Which wasn’t that often. Mostly at wrap parties because the rest of the time we usually had an early call. Work always took precedence. That’d never change. And I’d do well to remember it.
He cocked his head. “You can have whatever you want, Thomas. Obviously this is on me.”
I frowned. “I thought it was my turn.”
“Was this the cheap little hole-in-the-wall place you wanted to go to?”
“Well, no.”
“And, again, it’s not a power thing. This food isn’t cheap—”
“For someone like me.” Nothing could stop the lance of pain that admission cost me.
Peter sighed but reached for my hand. I let him place his on mine, but several heartbeats passed before I relaxed into the touch. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt skin on skin for anything other than a quick handshake or congratulatory hug. Nothing so intimate. I blinked.
“I don’t want this to be an issue between us, Thomas. You must know what I’m worth. I make a good salary, spend little, and invest wisely. Hell, I only own two cars.”