Her Hollywood Fake Fiance

by Taylor Hart

  She shook her head.

  “Makes sense if you’ve never been in the snow.” His mind raced. He wondered if they would make it to the gallery before it closed. “Where did you say the gallery was?”

  “The guy, her husband, said that her photography was being featured in a Brett Webster Gallery. I looked it up last night. It closes at four.”

  “Shoot.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Are you regretting all of this?”

  “No.” How did he tell her that he was far from regret, that he was all in, like “give up everything” mode? But it wasn’t the time. They had to focus on finding her mother. Plus, they could just wait until January to “officially” date, right? “Even though I’m getting major crap from my brothers for coming to their homes when they aren’t there, it’s great.” He flashed her a grin.

  “Thanks again.”

  “Quit telling me thanks.” He focused on the road as they drove up the mountain. The snow was coming down hard. While Grant hadn’t skied a ton, he’d done his fair share, and he thought about how this fresh powder was going to be amazing. “Would you be willing to give skiing a shot?”

  “What?” She looked worried.

  “We’re going straight to the gallery, but if we can’t get your mom today, what do you say? Bunny hill?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. “Uh. I … the truth is I can’t afford that. Skiing is expensive.”

  “I’m tired of you acting like I don’t make millions of dollars. It’s insulting, really.”

  She scowled. “Oh, sorry to insult you, Prince Kent, but I pay half.”

  Letting out a rippling laugh, he thought of all the women he’d dated. Every single one of them knew something valuable that Jewel hadn’t figured out. “Let me teach you something, Polka Dot.”

  “Back to this nickname.”

  He nodded. “Here’s the deal. Men—real men—pay.”

  She frowned. “That’s not fair. We’re trying to eliminate the wage gap for this reason.”

  “I’m not saying that they have to be rich. I’m just saying …” How could he explain this to her? “If a man values something, he pays for it. And he’s willing to pay a lot.”

  She scrunched her face. “You’re acting like women are property to be bought.”

  “No, it’s not about any of that. It’s about value.” He sighed. “Listen, my mama and daddy didn’t have a lot of money, but when my daddy was around, my mother never opened a door. And he taught us that. Manners for women. Respect for women. I was taught never to hit a girl or a younger kid, but if a bigger kid was messing with me, he deserved to get his butt whooped. That’s just how it is.”

  “You’re not making sense.”

  He put a hand over hers. “My daddy always took care to do special things for my mama. Picked her a flower on the way home and put it in her hair. Bought her the perfume she liked.” A memory hit him, and he felt the emotion in his throat. “He even rubbed her feet on Sunday nights, taking special care to put a towel on his lap and use lotion.” He grunted. “Funny, I haven’t thought of that for a long time.”

  She moved her hand and linked their fingers. “That’s really cool,” she said softly.

  Yes, she was getting it. “Here’s my point: it’s not about the money. Love and respect can be shown by rich or poor. It’s about how a man values a woman. And—” He cleared his throat. “—I got the money, so let me respect you. Let me pay when I want to pay.”

  She didn’t respond immediately. Then she shrugged, a smile on her face. “Maybe I’d like the foot rub instead.”

  He burst out laughing. She was wicked smart. “Well, we can negotiate that too.”

  She blinked, and they shared warm smiles. “I get it, Hollywood. Thank you.”

  He squeezed her hand, wanting to talk about the other thing he’d been thinking. “I know that I said I had to lie low.”

  “Your agent said,” she reminded him.

  “Pfft. What if I’m tired of doing exactly what everyone keeps telling me to do?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Being a fake.”

  She searched his face. “I don’t know. I’ll admit it’s flattering. But you have that pending Batman part.”

  “I know. I know you have a lot going on too, but I just want you to know I’m courting you.”

  “Courting me?” Her nose twitched in amusement.

  “Courting you, Ms. Jewel Olympia.” He said it all cheesily, then said it in a different accent. “I’m quarting you.” He flashed a grin. “My Brooklyn accent.”

  She laughed.

  The moment held, and his heart lightened. “So, we’ll not only track down your birth mom on this trip, but we’ll also have fun. And I’m paying. Remember, please quit complaining about me paying, because it emasculates me.”

  “Really?” She smiled.

  “Yes, it does. So just stop.”

  “Fine.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Great,” he said as they reached the top of the canyon and the road finally started to open up. “Let’s find your mom.”

  Chapter 16

  When, exactly, had the trip to find her mother turned into … not a relationship, she told herself. No, that wouldn’t be the word. It was something else with Grant Kent.

  When they’d gotten to the gallery on Park City Main Street, they’d found Brett Webster’s gallery, and it was closed. She’d been upset, to say the least.

  “I know it’s frustrating,” Grant had said consolingly. They’d parked on the snowy street, and since other shops open, they’d checked with the shop next door.

  When asked about why they were closed, the guy had said, “Brett doesn’t like to open on the really snowy days. He says everybody’s skiing.”

  Grant had taken her hand and grinned at her. “What do you say?”

  Now, as she held on to the bunny rope on the bunny hill at Park City Lodge Ski Resort, she ignored the way Grant tugged at the back of her new pink coat to tease her. “You look cute,” he teased.

  She’d refused to allow him to buy all her ski clothes because it was a ton of money, so she’d sat in the lodge. Of course, he hadn’t listened, so he’d come back with pink everything: coat, boots, hat, gloves, and ski pants.

  “Guess you’re Pinky, not Polka Dot.”

  She glared at him, frustrated with this whole ski experience.

  “Hang in there, you’re getting it.”

  But she didn’t have it. It was the tenth time they’d gone down the hill, and she’d majorly wiped out all the other times. Grant had not laughed, even though she’d seen him crack a smile at times while he helped her up.

  “I don’t like any of your nicknames,” she called behind her, hating the fact he looked so good. It did feel like this was a date, though. He’d been flagrantly teasing her and holding her hand while they tried on skis.

  She wiped out at the bottom of the hill. As he pulled up next to her, a smile on his face, she mumbled, “I hate this.”

  He reached for her, and she took his hand, grunting as she got up. “It’s coming. You can’t quit.” He ushered her back to the rope to pull them up the mountain. The ride up was the good part.

  When she got up, she turned and faced the ski slope again.

  “Remember to do the pizza.” He put his own skis in the pizza-slice position. “It will help your ride to the bottom slow down, and you won’t wreck. You’ll start getting more control.”

  That was easy for him to say. He was definitely coordinated. It wasn’t like she couldn’t do things, but skiing felt like a major challenge. “I got it.”

  “Okay.”

  She leaned forward and let her weight and gravity start her down the slope. Luckily, the bunny slope wasn’t too badly packed with people. The rest of the ski runs looked too crowded to her. She couldn’t believe that all of these people would come out in this kind of weather to ski.

  The mountain started to take her, and she bent her legs. She had not “graduated” to
poles yet. Grant had told her they’d just get in the way. So she pointed her skis in a pizza shape as best as she could. She was amazed that it was working.

  “Whoa!” Grant put his hands up and did the pizza thing next to her.

  She laughed and put out her hands to balance, not ready to throw them up in the air like Grant had.

  “You’ve got this, Polka Dot!”

  “Stop calling me that!” she said, still focused on the burning heat in her legs. It took different muscles than her running muscles to keep her legs in this position, and her legs were getting shaky.

  He laughed. “You’re doing it!”

  They got to the bottom, and it did feel like a huge accomplishment that she hadn’t tumbled into the snow face-first.

  “Yes!” He pulled up next to her and reached for her.

  She hugged him and breathed deeply, engulfed by his scent. “You put on the rosemary again.”

  “Hey, Ari told me it would attract the women. What do you think?”

  She didn’t like the way he’d said “women.” “If you want to attract women, it’ll probably work for you.” She pushed off and went to the line for the bunny hill again.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” He tugged her hat, and then he was beside her, holding on to the rope behind her and keeping his skis forward so they could ride up next to each other.

  “Nothing is wrong.” She’d gotten used to him too quickly. This would never work out.

  He out a breath. “Hey, I was just whiplashed by your attitude back there, so if you could just explain to me what I did wrong, I could understand.”

  “You said women.” She blurted it out and then felt like an idiot.

  “Wha—oh.”

  “You said women, and I didn’t like thinking about all the women that you’ve dated and that you’ll probably date in the future.” A stupid hopeless sensation rushed over her, and she thought of that amazing kiss in the hot tub the night before.

  “Well.” He took her hand through her glove. “I mean, Ari told me this would attract a woman.” He winked at her. “She actually told me this would attract my true love.”

  Wow. This had just gotten heated. She gulped and felt her heart racing. “Is that what you’re ready for, Hollywood?”

  A smile played at his lips. “I think I told you I don’t like the name Hollywood.” But he leaned into her anyway.

  Butterflies went haywire inside of her. She loved it when his lips pressed gently to hers.

  She pulled back, worried she would lose all of her concentration and fall.

  “Hey!” He hooted and leaned back.

  Disaster struck. All concentration lost meant skis getting tied up together and a huge wreck. It started with Grant’s ski getting tangled into hers. He tried to pull it back, but he fell. Then she was holding him, and she should have let go, but she fell too. Everyone behind them was calling out and falling. Before she knew it, they were all tumbling back to the bottom.

  As everyone pulled themselves to their feet and made sure they were in one piece, the guy in charge snapped a picture on his phone. “Leave it to a movie star to make a scene.”

  “Wait!” Grant called out. “Don’t post that picture.”

  A chorus of murmurs erupted as everyone around them realized who he was. The skiers pulled their phones out of their pockets and lit up the chilly air with camera flashes.

  Jewel felt horrible that people were taking pictures, especially Grant looked so upset. She wanted to hide her face so he wouldn’t get in trouble with his agent. “Stop,” she said.

  No one stopped.

  Eventually, she trudged back to the rope to go up the bunny hill. “Sorry,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the people still filming or taking pictures.

  Grant let out a breath, then did the most unexpected thing. He took her hand and lifted it into the air like she’d just won a boxing match. “I don’t care about the consequences. I want you to know it’s not fake on my end.” Then he waved at the cameras. “This is my fiancée, everyone. Now, please leave us to our skiing.”

  The skiers burst into applause, and Jewel bit her lip to stop herself from freaking out. It was all too overwhelming.

  Ceremoniously, Grant pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers.

  She was lost. Even though she could hear everyone talking and shouting out and clicks of cameras, she didn’t care. She held him and felt, for the first time, that maybe he could be her type.

  When the kiss was over, he searched her face. “That wasn’t fake.”

  She beamed. “No, it wasn’t.”

  With that, he gently tugged her hand, and they both maneuvered up the bunny hill.

  “Oh my gosh.” Butterflies still thrummed through her tummy as she got to the top and prepared to go down.

  “Remember, do the pizza!” Grant shouted at her as he went a little bit in front of her. “Just do the pizza.”

  She laughed. “Okay, Grant Kent. I’ll do the pizza!” She pushed off and knew that falling down the hill would be the least of her problems.

  Chapter 17

  Tom had been right when he’d told him his house was “in process.”

  Grant found the key under the rock by the steps, which really meant he had to do a whole lot of digging through snow. Also, since the kiss thing at the resort, his phone had blown up, and his agent was trying to get hold of him. Alerts sounded nonstop.

  “You’re in trouble,” Jewel said as they went into the house.

  Since both he and Jewel were exhausted, and he knew there would be nothing in his brother’s fridge since he was on vacation, he’d picked up a pizza. Then he’d stopped at the grocery store and gotten milk, eggs, and things for breakfast the next day. Now, he shut off all of the alerts on his phone. “I’m always in trouble.”

  When they got in, he noted the kitchen and the living room were kind of put together, but Tom had another room that was apparently set up as his wood shop. He found himself wishing he had not said they would stay at Tom’s. “I should have thrown around my Hollywood status and gotten us a room at the Ritz.”

  She looked around, holding groceries in one hand, still bundled up like him in ski clothes. “No, it’s perfect. I’m just grateful we have a place to stay.”

  Grant grunted, feeling humbled.

  She moved into the kitchen, putting the groceries down. “It’s fine. Let’s make the best of it. I’m just glad you didn’t have to waste more money on this trip.”

  He gave her a quick look.

  “I do value everything you’ve done,” she said quickly.

  He laughed. The fact she took everything in such perfect stride made him smile. When was the last time he’d dated a woman who wouldn’t have a total freak-out about the house? Luckily, the kitchen had been remodeled and was pretty nice. He placed the pizza on the counter.

  She frowned. “But what about your role as Batman? Did you just give it up with that little stunt back there?”

  Taking her into his arms, he grinned at her. “It wasn’t a stunt.”

  She sighed, resisting him briefly before giving in. “It didn’t feel like a stunt.”

  Their lips met, and fire burned through him. This woman was everything. So much of what he’d been waiting for and just hadn’t known it. “I want you to know that the only perfect thing in this house is you.”

  The moment went quiet. She blushed, and the color went right up her neck and warmed her entire face.

  He squeezed her. “I mean it.” Gently, he kissed her neck. “Want to snuggle up and watch a funny movie?”

  She grinned. “Have I ever told you the only time I really miss having a boyfriend is when I watch movies?”

  “Am I your boyfriend?”

  She gave him a mock look. “No, you’re my fiancé.”

  He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I like the sound of fiancé.”

  With a slow smile, she said, “We both know that just because you told the whole world you’re my fiancé doesn�
�t make it so. My life is really complicated at the moment.”

  It unnerved him how much he felt like he was in a rom-com. He squeezed her hand. “True. Fine, but you can’t deny we are something.”

  The look on her face became one of concern. “Grant, I know you say you don’t care and this is real or whatever, but what about your agent? What about being Batman?”

  Grant didn’t tell her that he’d ignored the ten texts that his agent had already sent him since the ski resort debacle. “I told you. This is real. I mean it. I’m done being fake. I want to date you, court you, whatever we’re calling it.”

  She looked doubtful. “I don’t want to ruin your career.”

  He shrugged, feeling overwhelmed but not wanting her to know that. “It’ll be fine. Hey, I wanted to ask you, would you want to go to the premiere with me next month?”

  She pulled back, looking shocked. “I thought you were supposed to go with Tracy.”

  “Well, I’m thinking she won’t want to after seeing that kiss today.”

  She swallowed. “Why don’t you just think about it?”

  He didn’t like the way she dodged the question. “No. Are you coming or not?”

  “That sounds like a complicated question.” She used the same tone he’d used when he’d first heard about her birth story.

  He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and brushing his lips to hers. “It is, but I think what I’ve gathered about a woman like you, Ms. Olympia, is that you can handle complicated. You could probably even write the whole screenplay.”

  She laughed and then hesitated. “I need to find my mother tomorrow. Then we’ll talk about the premiere.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, reminding himself to let her tackle one thing at a time. “We’ll find her. But snuggling and a movie and pizza are on the list next.”

  She looked at his lips. “It’s not fair that you make me forget my problems.”

  The chemistry between them ratcheted up a notch, and all Grant knew was that he wanted to be with this woman. “How so?” he asked, reaching up and gently tracing her jawline with this thumb.

  Her face turned enigmatic. “I think you’re a better kisser than I imagined in Save the Date.”