Book Read Free

Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2)

Page 19

by Leigh James


  "Until I scream your name," I reminded him.

  "Until you scream my name. Again. I could get used to this, babe."

  "Well, you better," I reminded him.

  * * *

  "I missed you so much," he said after we'd had sex for about the zillionth time. He trailed lazy kisses over my shoulder.

  I laughed. "We were only apart for a day." I flopped over and put my head on his chest, snuggling into him and relishing the feel of his naked body against mine.

  "It was a long day."

  I smiled into his chest. "I agree."

  He took my hand and ran his fingers over the diamond again, as he'd done repeatedly since we landed back in bed. "This is just a placeholder. Once I start working and I can save some money, I'm going to get you something killer."

  I sat up and looked at him. "You're going to replace my fake engagement ring?"

  He looked appalled. "It's not a fake. It's real, not CZ."

  "That's not what I meant, and you know it." I wanted to shut myself up, but I couldn't.

  He scrubbed his hands across his face. "I said it was a placeholder ring because I eventually want to get you something else. Something spectacular. After I've earned the money to do it. That would really mean something to me. In fact, I'd like that to be my first act as a responsible, salaried adult."

  His thumb stroked the ring again, and I pulled my hand away. I held it up and looked at it in the light. "This one's pretty. I like it."

  Kyle stared at me. "I'm getting you another one." He hesitated for a second. "If you want it, that is."

  I sighed and rolled onto my stomach. I couldn't look at him. A million emotions were running through me. Kyle was smart. He rolled on top of me so I could feel his long, perfectly muscled body pressed against mine.

  "Do you want it?" he asked and kissed the back of my neck.

  I felt him, erect and extraordinarily hard again, pressing against the small of my back. I groaned. "Of course I want it! What are you, crazy?"

  "Which it?" He poked me with one of the its I wanted, and I automatically spread my legs a little.

  But then I remembered what we were talking about. I tried to muster my last dregs of self-discipline and swatted him away. "I want it"—I jerked my thumb at his lovely, erect, large piece of man fun—"and it." I waggled my ring finger. I turned to look at him. "But we can't be engaged, Kyle."

  He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "You're really doing this? After all that?" He jerked his thumb at the bed.

  I sat up too. Even in my glowing post-sex haze, I felt as though I needed to be responsible. To be serious about this. "It hasn't been long enough, first of all. We've only been together for a little over a month. Second of all, our parents were married, and they might be… dating again. I don't even know if we can ever get… you know."

  "You know? You sound like a middle-schooler." He cocked an eyebrow at me, and I desperately wished I'd thought of a different word than cocked. "You can't even say it?"

  "I can say it. Married. I'm worried we can't ever really get… married. And I'm not even sure that's what this is." I held up the ring again, as if it were evidence of some plot to cruelly confuse and embarrass me.

  "Let me try this again. Because apparently I didn't do a very good job." He traced my jawline with his thumb, making me shiver. "I asked you to marry me because I love you. I did it in that obnoxious manner because we needed a headline to trump our fight. Your premiere's coming up fast. You don't need any more trouble. You need to be on top." At that, he laid back and pulled me on top of him.

  I relished the feel of him beneath me, his strong, muscled body fulfilling every wild dream I'd had about him. But this was serious, so I slid off him. "I'd love to be on top. Hell, I'd love to stay on top forever, but we need to figure this out."

  He sat up again, undeterred. "You said yes, right?"

  I nodded.

  "Did you mean it?" he asked.

  "What exactly did I say yes to?" I noticed that my heart was hammering.

  "You said yes, in front of the press, to marrying me, which means they think we're engaged. You said yes when I asked you to marry me… which means I think we're engaged." He was quiet for a heavy beat. "And that means, to me, that we're committed to each other. Exclusively. Forever."

  I held my breath and felt my eyes well up with stupid, inconvenient tears.

  "And for me, forever starts right now," he continued. "But we can wait to get married for as long as you want. 'Cause I agree, six weeks is soon. Not too soon, but soon. I want to do this right. I want to give our marriage every chance to be successful. I'm only ready when you're ready." He stroked my back. "And I want to buy you a different ring. I've been thinking about this for a while, Lo. Like I'm a girl or something. I totally have a picture in my mind of what I want to get you." He looked stupefied by his own thoughts.

  That was so adorable, I almost died. "That's really nice."

  "I know, right? But listen—I know what I want. I know what this"—he pointed at the ring—"means to me. And if we went to Vegas tomorrow to elope, I wouldn't even hesitate." He watched my face. "But that's me. What about you? What did you say yes to?"

  A tear slid down my cheek. I couldn't help it. I couldn't believe that he loved me like I loved him.

  "So?" His jaw clenched at my silence and crying. "Are we engaged or aren't we?"

  I wiped my face and looked at him. Tension rolled off him as his eyes searched my face.

  "Of course we are, you big lug." I threw myself into his chest again. He wrapped his powerful arms around me, and I let myself cry against him. "Like I could ever be away from you again. Y'all is family."

  "I'm not a plural, babe. Even though I totally understand you wishing I was." I heard the grin and dimples in his voice.

  "I'll teach you one of these days—y'all can absolutely be used in the singular."

  He kissed me, our lips coming together delicately at first, then changing into something deeper, more urgent. Kyle pulled back. "I'm gonna teach you a few things, young lady. Now that you've agreed to be mine, I can afford to take my time."

  He ran his hands down me, and I giggled a little breathlessly. "That sounds exciting and bad all at the same time."

  "It's both, babe—and it's bad in a very, very good way," he said, his massive form looming over me. "You better get used to it."

  He kissed my neck, and I took a deep breath. I could get used to this. Very, very used to this.

  "Are you sure this is what you want?" I didn't want him to stop, but I couldn't stop asking questions.

  He sighed and leaned up. "We're still talking, aren't we?" He sounded humorously resigned.

  "I can't help myself." I smiled at him, feeling guilty for stopping him again. But I had to know that this was real, and I needed to feel all the corners of the situation out. "How's this gonna work? You're going to go back to Boston, and I'm going to stay here, or go on location, and we'll see each other… when, exactly?"

  Kyle sighed and rolled off me. "You're really trying to keep me outta there, aren't you?" I must've looked stressed because he smiled indulgently and patted my hand. "We'll make it work, babe. I can fly out here on weekends, or we can take turns. When you go on location, I'll take vacation days to see you. We can Skype." He tucked my hair behind my ear. "People do it all the time. We can do it too."

  "And what about… our parents? For real? They're going to freak. You know that, right? We were joking about it before, but it's not funny."

  Kyle shook his head. "We're just going to tell them the truth. And they're just gonna have to live with it."

  "But people are going to find out about us eventually." I swallowed hard. "At some point, the press will discover your real name. They'll figure out who your father is and that our parents were married. It's gonna happen. It's just a matter of time." I looked over at our phones, which hadn't stopped beeping with texts and media alerts. "What happens then?"

  He pulled me against him. "
I don't know. I only know that what we have is the most important thing to me. Everything else will just have to work itself out."

  I looked at him, knowing in my heart that he was right. "I love you, Kyle." Saying it felt so good. "That's what matters to me now."

  He grinned. "I love you too, babe. Everything else will be okay. Trust me."

  Kyle

  Trust me. Of all the bright ideas I'd had, maybe that had been the worst one yet.

  I read the latest text message on my phone and groaned inwardly, then I looked over at Lowell. I loved watching her sleep. I loved it as much as I loved watching the 49ers, and that was saying something.

  I turned back to the message. Lowell was gonna freak, and it was all my fault.

  I shouldn't have come out here. It was selfish. But I shoved that idea from my head. It was probably true, but it was also true that Lowell and I loved each other. We'd agreed that our relationship was more important than everything else.

  I really hoped she still felt that way once she'd had a chance to think about it some more. And once I told her what was coming. I sighed and gently nudged her awake.

  She opened one eye and squinted at me adorably, a huge smile spreading over her face. "Well, hello, fiancé."

  My heart leapt. Then I remembered the text, and my stomach dropped.

  "Hello fiancée, yourself." I swallowed hard. "There've been some… uh, developments while you slept."

  She sat up and opened both eyes. "What?"

  I held up my phone. "Katie from XYZ texted me. She said she had some new information and wanted to verify it before she went to press."

  "Since when does she ever verify anything?" Lowell asked skeptically.

  "Exactly. Never. So this has gotta be a big deal."

  "It can't be good."

  "Nope, it definitely can't be good." I rolled out of bed and threw on some clothes.

  Just then, Lowell's phone rang. She looked at it suspiciously before picking up. "Hello, Tor." She held the phone away from her ear as Tori screamed a few things. When she'd subsided, a grinning Lowell brought the phone back to her face. "I know, right? He totally surprised me! And yes, it's a real engagement. To be followed by a real wedding. When we're ready." She listened to Tori babble. "No, you can't start planning. No, we're not ready to book a venue. We just got engaged two hours ago!" Her brow wrinkled as she listened to her friend. "Listen, if you want to live to be my maid of honor, you'd better relax."

  I heard more squealing through the phone, and I decided it was a good time to grab a snack. I was searching through the refrigerator for the organic peanut butter, when I heard a knock at the door. Uh oh. Lowell was still in the bedroom, so I went to the door and looked through the side glass panel. It was Katie from XYZ, looking smugger than usual, and who I assumed was her assistant.

  I cracked the door open and peered through. "I got your text about two seconds ago. Do you mind giving my fiancée and me a minute to talk it through?"

  She looked at her watch. "You have about one minute." She was antsy, tapping her foot and fidgeting. "I need to publish this before anyone else does."

  "Stay right there," I said, not trusting her enough to leave her alone for more than a second.

  I ran back to Lo and stuck my head through the bedroom door. Lowell was on her back, chatting and smiling like a normal newly engaged person. Which she was not.

  "Hey," I said, interrupting her, "Barracuda Lady's at the front door. She doesn't seem like she has a lot of patience."

  Lowell rolled her eyes and hung up with Tori, promising to call her later for more dissection of the happy news. "She didn't give us much time."

  "She's antsy, tapping her foot on your front step."

  "Great," Lo said, getting up. She looked down at herself in a rumpled T-shirt. Then she peered in the mirror at her hair, which was mussed and wild. "I totally look like I've been having sex all afternoon."

  "That's because you have." I grinned, ridiculously proud.

  She sighed and grabbed some clothes. "Let her in while I take a quick shower. But don't let her past the living room! I don't trust her!"

  "What do you want me to tell her?" I asked.

  "Nothing. Not yet."

  * * *

  "You can come in," I told Katie the Barracuda. "But give your cell phone and any other electronic devices to your assistant. Nothing's coming in here."

  "Picky, picky." She tsked, but she did as I asked.

  "I have to be," I said, letting her in. "You can't trust anybody nowadays."

  "You can say that again." She looked greedily around Lowell's house, her eyes drinking in every square inch. "This is lovely and perfect. Much like Lowell Barton herself."

  "I agree," I said, although I didn't care for Katie's snide tone. She's just jealous. I was sure that was true, but it didn't make her any less dangerous. "Have a seat. I'd offer you something to drink, but I'm not leaving you unattended."

  She raised an eyebrow at me. "You were a lot friendlier when you first showed up."

  "I had to learn the hard way."

  We looked at each other for a beat, with fake smiles, until she broke the silence. "I have information about you, Kyle. I wanted to give you the courtesy of telling you first."

  "That's so thoughtful of you," Lowell said, sailing in from the kitchen, wearing clean clothes, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She carried three lemonades on a tray.

  "Lemonade." Katie rolled her eyes at the tray. "You really are something, you know that?"

  Lowell handed her a drink and sat across from her. "Yes, I know that." Lowell flashed her a megawatt smile. "Now, what can we do for you? I'm assuming you're not here just to offer your congratulations—thank you anyway. I did, however, overhear you telling Kyle that you have information about him. How fascinating. I just can't imagine what that might be." Lowell linked her hands through mine and squeezed, the only indication that she was on edge.

  Katie set down her drink without taking a sip. "I'm pretty sure that you know, but I appreciate the little flourishes of your performance. Tell me, how's it going to be to kiss all of that good-bye? Because I happen to know for a fact that Lucas Dresden won't appreciate the story that's going to break about you two later this afternoon." She motioned toward the ring on Lowell's finger. "That was a nice try, though."

  Lowell held up the ring. "It's not a try, Katie. It's an engagement ring. Because we're engaged."

  The reporter raised her eyebrows. "I don't believe you."

  "Why's that?" I asked, but the pit in my stomach told me I already knew.

  "I knew there was something off between you two. It was too cute and too convenient. So I did a little digging," she said, licking her lips. "And I found out that you're related. So that's why I don't believe you're engaged—the last time I checked, in the state of California at least, siblings can't get married."

  "We're not siblings." I waited to see what she'd say next.

  "According to my source, your parents were married. You lived in the same house during your adolescence, raised as siblings."

  "That's bullshit." I'd been able to tolerate her thus far, but she was making my blood boil. So this was going to turn into a shit show, after all. I started to say something more, but Lowell clutched my hand.

  "What you're saying isn't true," Lo said. "I would say that if you care about your credentials as a journalist, you won't go forward with that story. But since I know you couldn't give a flying fuck about journalistic integrity, I'll just save my breath." Lowell stood. "You can go now. Do what you like."

  Lowell marched her to the door. Katie looked a little flustered, as if this wasn't what she was expecting.

  "We can cut a deal," she offered Lowell at the threshold. "I'm the only one who knows. For now."

  Lowell leaned toward Katie's ear. "Go fuck yourself. Deal?" Lowell slammed the door behind her then pressed herself against it, her chest heaving. She was quiet for a minute. Then she said, "We're so fucked."

  I
nodded, feeling guilty as hell. She seemed to pull herself together a little. She stood, a faraway look on her face as if she was lost in her thoughts.

  "What's the name of your favorite reporter out there?" she asked.

  "Jose."

  Lowell opened the door. "Go get him. And tell him he's gonna need a camera crew."

  Lowell

  Kyle was taking care of the arrangements for our interview, which would take place first thing in the morning. In the interim, I had to make the call I'd been dreading since Kyle came back into my life.

  My mother. Always my mother.

  I decided to call Pierce first. Kyle and I had already talked about it and decided on what to say to each of them. Dealing with his father's anger would be like baby-stepping toward dealing with my mother's.

  "Lowell," he answered before it even rang. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. When Kyle asked for a credit card, I assumed it was for a plane ticket, not an engagement ring."

  I swallowed hard. "That's not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, Pierce."

  He sighed. "You know that it's not personal. But the timing for all this couldn't be worse for me. Now that it's an engagement, your story's going to turn into even more of a media circus."

  "I know," I said quickly. "But Kyle did it to protect me."

  "I know. And I see how much he cares for you. But his being in the public eye like this, one week before my launch, is too risky for me. I've already told you both that."

  "I know, but… he puts me first. Even when I tell him not to." I lovingly fingered my placeholder engagement ring. Now that I knew what it felt like to have someone fight for me, I understood it wasn't something I would give up easily. Still, I felt bad for Pierce. "I didn't want him to come out here honestly. I wanted him to stay in Cambridge. And stay away from me."

  "So why'd you say yes?" That was Pierce for you. Always cutting to the chase.

  But I felt that even though I'd made a mess out of Kyle's new life—the life he might not have now, if the launch went sour—I'd done the right thing. "Because I love him. And I want to marry him. I want that more than I want your app to be successful. More than I want my mom to be happy. And more than I want my acting career, I guess."

 

‹ Prev