by Iris Morland
Carter choked on his wine. Gasping for breath, he said, “Touché, little spitfire. You win.”
The smile she gave him was so radiant that it almost stopped his heart. The heart he was pretty sure hadn’t existed in a long, long time.
It didn’t help that the candlelight brought out the reddish hues in her hair, or that she’d worn red lipstick that made her look even more kissable than usual.
“I’m curious, though,” he said, “what do you do with the Jell-O molds?”
Her lips twitched before she leaned closer to whisper, “It’s a secret.”
That husky whisper went straight to his cock. He was glad he was sitting down, because otherwise, everyone and the waiter would know he was enjoying this fake date way too much.
“A bottle of champagne for the table,” said the waiter, “from the gentleman at the bar.”
Carter didn’t need to ask who the gentleman at the bar was. Before the waiter could uncork the bottle, he snapped, “Take it back. We don’t want it.”
The waiter barely batted an eyelash. He picked up the two champagne glasses he’d brought and left without another word.
“You didn’t have to be rude. Besides, Hayden might think that I didn’t want champagne, not you,” said Lucy.
“I don’t give a damn what he wants. You’re on a date with me. He can drink the damn bottle himself.”
A few minutes of silence passed, only broken up by the waiter bringing them their entrees. Neither of them, however, touched their food. Lucy poked at her salmon; Carter drank another glass of wine.
“I’m sorry, spitfire,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I know.” She smiled again and, after taking a bite of her salmon, said, “You still haven’t answered my question. What do you do for fun besides the obvious?”
Carter considered. When was the last time he’d done something for the hell of it? Baseball had consumed his life for so long that he didn’t know the answer right away.
“I like to read,” he said finally.
“Really? Like what?”
“Nonfiction, I guess. I like biographies about American history, the presidents especially.”
“Are you going to tell me you’re a closet Hamilton fan before breaking into song?”
“Fuck, no. I don’t do musicals, and I don’t sing.”
Lucy clucked her tongue. “You can’t write off an entire genre. Musicals are amazing. Have you ever actually watched one?”
“I don’t need to watch one to know I wouldn’t like it.”
After that, Lucy tried her best to persuade him to listen to the Hamilton soundtrack and to watch Moulin Rouge with her, which was her favorite musical of all time. By the end of the evening, Carter had learned about her favorite nonmusical movie (The Philadelphia Story), her favorite director (Guillermo del Toro), and her favorite childhood book (Anne of Green Gables). Carter had told her his favorite movie (Fight Club, which had made her snort-giggle), his favorite director (didn’t have one), and his favorite childhood book (he couldn’t remember).
Carter became so immersed in their conversation that he forgot all about Hayden and his attempt to interrupt their date. Their fake date, but Hayden didn’t know that.
“Did you not like the champagne?” said Hayden as he approached the pair, a wide smile on his face. “Because I could’ve ordered you two something else.”
“Oh, no, we just—”
Carter interrupted Lucy. “I don’t need other guys buying my date drinks.”
Hayden put his hands up. “Hey, no hard feelings. Just thought I’d be nice, seeing you two here.”
Lucy looked like she wanted to run and hide, and irritation burbled inside Carter. In a show of possessiveness, Carter wrapped his arm around Lucy’s waist until she pressed against his side. He caught a whiff of her hair—something sweet and fruity—and wanted to bury his hands in her hair and kiss her until she forgot all about Hayden.
“Are you two really together?” said Hayden. “Because it must be a new thing.”
“It is. New, that is.” Lucy reached behind Carter’s back and dug her nails into his palm to keep him quiet. “We just started—doing this.”
“Huh.” Hayden shot an amused look at Carter. “I didn’t think you dated anyone. You’re one night and done.”
“A guy can change,” said Carter. He took hold of Lucy’s hand to keep her from swiping her claws at him a second time.
“People don’t change that much. At least not for the better.” Hayden chuckled.
“You would know,” said Carter.
Lucy pulled away from Carter, much to his annoyance. “Thank you for the champagne. Even if we didn’t drink it.”
“Then we’ll have to do this again so you can drink it,” said Hayden with a wink.
Watching Lucy, her color high, her attention fully on this smarmy asshole, Carter was liable to punch something. Or preferably, someone.
Just because this was a fake date didn’t mean he let other men poach in his territory.
“We need to go.” Carter took Lucy’s arm. “See you later, Hayden.”
Carter didn’t wait for Lucy to say goodbye or to hear Hayden’s response. He pulled her outside, the night air chilled despite the time of year. When they got some yards away from the restaurant, Lucy wrenched her arm from his grasp.
“What the hell was that all about?” she hissed.
“Are you seriously asking me that? You’re my date. Not his. He doesn’t get to try to lure you away from me without me doing something about it.”
“Lure me? Isn’t that what you want him to do?” Lucy was agog, shaking her head. “You acted like you were going to beat him up. Or pee on me,” she added wryly.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“You want to pee on me?”
Carter snorted. “Honey, I like kinky shit, but nothing that kinky.”
His joke managed to lighten the mood somewhat, and Lucy’s ruffled feathers settled down. She rubbed her arms.
“You’re cold.” Carter wrapped his arms around her, and this time, she didn’t resist him.
“What are we doing?” she whispered against his chest. “This has been a terrible idea. I don’t know what’s what anymore.”
“Are you saying you want to call it off?” Please say no.
Lucy didn’t say anything for such a long moment that Carter tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes.
“Do you want to end it, little spitfire? Because you’re going to have to say the words.”
Lucy gazed up at him, her eyes wide and such a pretty shade of green that if Carter wrote poetry, he’d pen a sonnet to them. Good thing he was a ballplayer, then. He wasn’t about to do something as asinine as write an ode to a woman’s eyes.
“You better make up your mind, because Hayden’s looking at us right now,” said Carter softly.
Lucy stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. In fact, she licked her lips, as if anticipating something.
“Carter, this thing—”
He didn’t want to hear her protestations. He didn’t want to hear why this was stupid, crazy, ridiculous, every adjective listed under moronic in the thesaurus.
So he kissed her.
It wasn’t a chore to kiss this little spitfire. She was like lightning against his tongue. When she gasped in surprise, he swallowed the sound and deepened the kiss. She fell against him, clutching at his coat lapels. She tasted like wine and gunpowder—and she lit a fire inside of him that he was pretty certain would never go out.
When he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, she shivered. He groaned, his cock so hard now that it was painful. The slide of their tongues and the brush of their mouths made everything else around them disappear. Carter forgot about Hayden, and how this was all for show.
It was all for show—right? Guilt pricked him. He’d started this as a way to get back at Hayden, but it was quickly going in a direction he never could’ve anticipated.
; Lucy sighed, ending the kiss. Her lips were kiss-bruised, her eyes glassy. The only reason Carter didn’t take her straight to his bed was…well, he didn’t know. He didn’t care about the reasons why he shouldn’t anymore.
“Is he still there?” said Lucy.
Hayden still stood only a few yards away. When Carter caught Hayden’s eyes, Hayden’s mouth twisted into a strange semblance of a smile. Then he walked away.
“He’s gone,” said Carter, not mentioning the weird smile. “I guess the kiss scared him off.” Even to his ears, he sounded bitter.
“Oh, okay. Good. Or not good. I don’t know.” Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, and suddenly what had felt like the most intimate moment in Carter’s life had ended with the both of them completely alone.
Lucy said nothing on the drive back to the bed-and-breakfast. She didn’t know what to say.
That kiss—it had devastated her. She’d never been kissed like that in her entire life. And throughout this whole evening, she hadn’t been thinking about Hayden: her mind had been solely on Carter. Getting to know him, seeing him laugh, watching in confusion as he acted possessive one moment and then pushed her away the next. When he’d kissed her and Hayden had been watching, it had been so hot that her body still hummed from the sensations.
“Good night,” said Carter as he dropped her off at her door.
Before he turned to go, Lucy blurted, “Thank you. For tonight.” She shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “I had a nice time.”
“Well, you did what you needed to do. Hayden was there and he wanted to take you all for himself. Men hate knowing they can’t have something.”
Lucy flushed to the roots of her hair. She hadn’t meant that at all, but of course Carter would assume she was pleased about this development. She should be pleased. Hayden had tried to buy her a bottle of champagne to interrupt their date, for God’s sake. Men didn’t do that unless they wanted a woman for their own.
She deflated, feeling foolish. “Yeah, I guess. It was good. He seemed interested.”
“He’ll be yours for the taking soon enough.”
Lucy had the inexplicable urge to cry. She wanted Carter to put his arms around her again and kiss her. Her body came to life anytime he so much as looked at her.
But she wanted Hayden. She’d been into him for a year; she’d dreamed of the day she could meet him again and catch his interest. They had everything in common. She and Carter were so different that Lucy knew nothing good could come of their relationship.
Relationship? They had no relationship. Lucy bit her tongue to stifle hysterical laughter.
“Good night, little spitfire,” said Carter, breaking Lucy’s train of thought.
“Good night.”
He grinned. “Try not to dream of me, but I know you will.”
Lucy didn’t even try to deny the statement. She hurried inside her room, locking the door behind her, knowing that it wouldn’t keep this pulsing desire for Carter at bay.
Chapter Nine
That weekend, Lucy had the afternoon off from filming, as the crew was currently filming scenes that only involved Hayden. Gwen had invited Lucy to go to the beach with her and two other friends, and Lucy had accepted without hesitation.
It was a brilliant, cloudless day, and everyone on the island seemed to be on the beach this afternoon. Wearing her favorite dark blue bikini, Lucy lay on a blanket and soaked in the sun. Despite living in Los Angeles, she hadn’t gotten a tan in ages since she was always busy working.
“Lucy, I want you to meet someone. Or someones, really,” said Gwen.
Lucy opened her eyes to see two women sitting down on Gwen’s blanket, one of whom had brought a beach chair with her. One woman was a curvy brunette with olive skin and wore a vintage red one-piece; the other was a pale, tall blonde, her swimsuit a demure black. When the blonde turned her head to get something out of her bag, Lucy noticed that she had what looked like a birthmark on her face.
“Lucy, this is Alex,” said Gwen, pointing to the brunette, “and this is Felicity. Alex owns the bookstore, and Felicity freelances.” Gwen smiled, pushing her heavy red hair over her shoulder. “Felicity actually won’t tell us what she does. She’s mysterious.”
Felicity smiled but didn’t say anything to contradict Gwen’s assertion.
“Freelance? Like write? Or graphic design?” said Lucy, intrigued.
“She won’t tell you,” said Alex as she opened a bottle of beer. “All she’ll tell us is that she writes. I think she’s some famous writer but hides away because her fans would mob her.”
Felicity shook her head. “I’m not famous.” Her voice was so soft that Lucy almost didn’t hear her.
“Don’t bug her, Alex. Felicity never comes to the beach with us. I had to bribe her,” said Gwen.
“A bribe?” Alex put her arm around Felicity and said in wheedling tones, “What can I bribe you with to get you to tell me your secrets, Liss?”
“Nothing, because you’re annoying.” Despite her words, Felicity was still smiling, clearly used to her friends’ questions.
Lucy took out the book she’d gotten at Alex’s bookstore. “You have a great selection of old-school romances. I couldn’t believe it when I saw this one on your shelf.”
“You were in the store? I must’ve been on break.” Alex took the book and started laughing. “I know this one! The cover is fantastic. Look at the unicorn in the corner. Why the hell is there a unicorn? It’s set in New Orleans in 1885!”
“Do you ever need a reason for unicorns?” said Gwen.
“No, probably not. And look at this hunk with his rippling pectorals.” With a sly grin, Alex added, “I heard through the grapevine that you’re dating Carter Roberts. That’s why I wanted to meet you, you know. I might own a bookstore, but I’m actually a total slut for gossip.”
“She is a slut,” said Felicity, deadpan.
The three women stared at Felicity before Alex burst into laughter.
“She’s right, but not like you think. I call myself a book slut.” Alex elbowed Felicity. “Geez, give our new friend the wrong impression about me.”
Lucy’s heart warmed at the thought of being friends with these women. She hadn’t had much luck making good friends in Los Angeles: the city was too big, and the acting world tended to be insular. If you weren’t big—like Hayden Masterson—you were easily ignored.
“I’m not a slut, but for a guy like Carter…” Alex lay on the blanket and sighed. “You’re a lucky woman, Lucy.”
At the moment, Carter was playing volleyball with some of the other guys from set. Lucy had been trying—unsuccessfully—not to stare at his ripping pectorals as he played. It didn’t help that he wore only swim trunks and nothing else. Compared to the rest of the guys, Carter was like something out of a movie: tan and muscular and so handsome that it made Lucy’s heart skip a beat.
Carter might be handsome, but he’s not yours. You don’t want him anyway, she reminded herself.
“Do you think guys prefer virgins?” said Alex, apropos of nothing.
“Alex,” Gwen admonished.
“What? It’s a legitimate question.”
Lucy couldn’t help but notice that Felicity’s right cheek—the one without the birthmark—was red and she was pointedly not looking at Alex.
“I think they like anything that’s female,” joked Lucy.
Alex chuckled. “You’re probably right. Besides, virgins are awkward, and you have to think about other logistics when you’re getting it on.”
“Alex,” said Gwen again.
“Gwen here gets all riled whenever I bring up sex stuff.” Alex sighed and sat up, stretching her legs out. “Gwen, you should read Lucy’s book. Get yourself something something, if you know what I mean.”
Gwen busied herself with digging around in the cooler for a soda, which Lucy had a feeling wasn’t as buried as Gwen wanted them to think.
Gwen had mentioned to Lucy that she was divorced, but she hadn’t v
olunteered any more information on that subject. When Lucy had asked if Gwen was dating anyone now, she’d clammed up and promptly told Lucy she had work to do.
Right then, Carter dove for the ball, hitting it just in time. His teammate, a crewmember whose name Lucy couldn’t remember, hit the ball over the net. Carter’s teammate said something and gave Carter a hand up. To Lucy’s dismay, she saw Carter grimace, like he was in pain.
Should he be playing volleyball with his injured shoulder? She thought of his face when she’d come upon him pitching in the park.
“We’re going to go swim. You guys want to come?” said Alex.
When Gwen declined, Lucy did so as well, mostly because she wanted to talk to Gwen alone. When her friend had asked her what she was doing, hanging out with the guy she’d claimed to hate, she’d had to dodge her questions. But Lucy was so messed up over the kiss that she had to confess it all to someone. She’d been tempted to call her older sister, Thea, but considering Thea’s boyfriend was Carter’s best friend and sort-of employer… Lucy had dismissed that idea quickly.
Alex jumped into the water with a squeal, while Felicity waded to where the water was about waist-high. Lucy smiled as she watched the pair.
“Good, now we can talk.” Gwen turned so she faced Lucy directly. “What in the world is going on with you and Mr. Baseball? Because I heard from a little bird that you were caught making out with him in the street.”
Lucy groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh God, I don’t even know where to start.”
“From the beginning, obviously.”
Lucy sighed, explaining to Gwen her crush on Hayden, Carter’s bargain, and how it seemed to be spinning out of control already. As Lucy spoke, Gwen’s eyes kept getting bigger and bigger with each detail.
“I should call it off, right? It was a stupid idea to begin with,” finished Lucy in a rush, her cheeks flaming.
Gwen didn’t say anything for a long moment, lost in thought. Then she said, “Are you sure it’s Hayden you’re into?”