This is Love

by Foster, Melissa

  “Something like that,” he said as she walked over to the tree.

  He’d hung two of the ornaments she’d made on it, and the boxes from her closet were lined up by the couch. “Mason . . . ?”

  “The ornaments are important to you. They’re too pretty and special to be hidden in boxes in your closet. Since you don’t like to give them away, I thought you might like to display them, so we can enjoy them. I thought we could decorate the tree together. But if you’d rather not display them, I’ll put them back in your closet, no hard feelings.”

  He flicked the light switch, illuminating bright red and white lights in the branches.

  There was no holding back the happy tears spilling from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, too overwhelmed to speak at first. When she finally found her voice, she said, “Ever since my parents died, I’ve associated the things I’ve made with stress.”

  “Aw, Remi. I’m so sorry. I messed up.”

  She looked up at him and her heart swelled. “No, you didn’t. I turned something special into something sad, and I didn’t even realize it. But like with everything else, you did. Thank you. I would love nothing more than to decorate the tree with you.”

  As they decorated the tree, Remi told Mason stories about the ornaments. There were so many, he was amazed she could remember stories about each one. But as she shared her memories, he swore he saw weight lift from her shoulders.

  None of the hearts on any of the ornaments were perfectly shaped. Some had flat ridges, others were lopsided, each one mirroring the emotions Remi relayed with her stories. She reached deep into one of the boxes and withdrew an ornament with a blue heart on the bottom, a smaller heart cut out of a book page, and on top, a third heart made of fabric with flowers on it.

  Running her fingers over the flowers, she said, “Before Aiden packed up our parents’ stuff and we moved to California, he said I could have anything I wanted. When my mom first taught me to make these, she took a page from one of my father’s favorite books to use. I tried to stop her, because my father treasured his books. Some of my favorite memories are of him in his leather recliner. He’d pat his leg and say, ‘I’ll read you a story.’ I’d scramble into his lap, excited to hear anything he’d read. I just loved his voice, and I felt so special when he did that, sharing his favorite books with me.”

  “The leather recliner in your room? Is that his?” Mason asked as she handed him the heart to hang on the tree.

  “Yes. I bring it wherever I’m filming. It’s comforting, and I feel less alone when I have some of our things with me. Before I met you, I was lonely, Mason. So lonely.”

  He crouched beside her and gathered her in his arms. “Me too, Princess.”

  “Don’t make me cry,” she said, pulling away and fanning her eyes. “This is a happy time. These are happy memories.”

  She pushed to her feet and began hanging more ornaments as she finished her story. “Anyway, my mom said my father knew she used pages from his books, and he didn’t mind. One time when he was reading to me, we came to a missing page and he skipped right over it. When I asked him about that page, he looked at my mom with this secret expression I’ll never forget, and he said, ‘Don’t worry about that page, sweetheart.’”

  “It’s nice that your parents had that type of relationship, with intimate secrets. It sounds like they were happy together.”

  “They seemed to be. I never did find out why she used pages from his favorite books, but he didn’t mind, and he even seemed to like it. So when Aiden said I could take anything, I took my father’s books and recliner, my mom’s crafting supplies, and the blanket she and I used to cuddle under on the couch. The flowered one in my room. That’s what that flowered heart is from. I cut off a piece to use on these and kept the rest for the blanket. We also used to make gift cards and invitations to birthday parties. Maybe I’ll put an ornament into each birthday box, at least for the younger kids. We can make different shapes instead of hearts and write the year in glitter so they’ll always remember when they received them.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  She hung an ornament on the tree and said, “Do you think it’s silly for me to carry on doing something so childish? I mean, they are just paper ornaments.”

  “No. You’re carrying on a family tradition. Traditions are nice.”

  He reached into the box for more ornaments, and she reached for his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m going on about my parents, and—”

  “Don’t, Remi. Don’t think for one minute that hearing about your parents makes me feel bad about my own. I’m not a broken kid. I came to grips with my life a long time ago. I like hearing about your family and knowing you have good memories. Got it?”

  “Sorry. I understand what’s it like to have moved on. I don’t like when people feel the need to pity me because I’ve lost my parents.” She grabbed an ornament with a black heart on top and said, “There’s a bunch in here with black hearts. I made them a lot as a teenager, when Aiden and I butted heads the most.”

  “Was he pretty strict?”

  “Aiden was interesting with his strictness,” she said as she hung ornaments on the tree. “He was never overbearing in the typical sense, where someone tells you what to do and how to think. He was, and still is, just overly cautious with me. If I was invited somewhere, he usually went with me. I remember one time a friend I knew through an acting club asked me to go bowling. Her mom was going to take us, but Aiden stepped in. He took us bowling and then out for ice cream. It was fun, but as I got older it bugged me, as you can imagine. I mean, who wants their older brother around all the time?”

  “I don’t know him that well, but don’t you think it could have something to do with losing your parents and his not wanting to lose the only family he had left?”

  “Yes. I’m sure it was. Is. I still get nervous when he travels, until I know he’s arrived safely.”

  “What about dating? Did he let you date as a teenager?”

  “I was too busy with auditions and schoolwork to pay much attention to boys. It wasn’t until I was around nineteen or so that guys started playing a bigger part in my life. Aiden insisted on meeting anyone I went out with, and knowing Aiden, he probably did a full background check on them.”

  “Excellent man,” Mason said with a grin.

  She rolled her eyes. “No more Aiden talk. Let’s make dinner and admire our gorgeous tree.”

  He smacked her ass as they headed into the kitchen. She squealed, trying to swat his butt, but he caught her around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  “Mason!”

  He swatted her butt again, earning another squeal and giggles as she started using his butt like a drum. He gripped her around the waist, lifting her up over his head, and she beamed down at him.

  “What’s the matter? You don’t like your butt swatted?”

  “I just wanted to see your face.” He lowered her at an angle, head down, kissing her lips as her feet flailed up toward the ceiling. He pressed her up again and then lowered her down for a kiss.

  “You’re bench-pressing me!”

  “Gotta get my workout in somehow.”

  The next time he lowered his lips to hers, she grabbed his face with both hands and said, “I like you a lot, hottieguard.”

  He growled playfully at hottieguard and pressed her up toward the ceiling again, earning more laughter. Then he lowered her to the edge of the counter and wedged himself between her legs. He had no idea how things had changed so quickly, but as he gazed into her eyes, the fear that had swamped him when he’d heard her scream in the yard came rushing back.

  “You scared me today, Princess. I’m so glad you were okay.”

  “I’m sorry. I was scared, too. But a very wise man told me that there are no take-backs, so let’s not think about that. Let’s think about happier things.” She wound her legs around his waist, trailing her fingers over his biceps, and said, “Such as how
much I like your muscles. Your turn!”

  The list of things he liked about her was quickly becoming a list of things he loved. “I’m crazy about your smile.”

  “I adore your heart.” She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing along his skin.

  He touched his forehead to hers and said, “You got me, Princess. I wasn’t even aware of that particular organ until I met you.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THURSDAY SHOULD HAVE been a fantastic day. Remi was excited to film a pivotal scene in which she and Raz had a huge argument that ended with a breakthrough for Raz’s character. It was her favorite scene in the entire movie, and after all of her commitments, she had something special planned for Mason that she hoped he’d love. But as she sat in the makeup chair with Tillie, the makeup artist, working her magic, she was unable to tear her eyes away from the tabloids on the table. Each boasted a picture of her and Mason. In one he was helping her out of the SUV in the parking lot. In another he was walking with her across the set, and in a third they were walking out of La Love Café. That one was taken last night, when they’d gone into town to grab dinner, with Porter and Merrick standing nearby. The headlines boasted WHO IS REMI DIVINE’S NEW BEAU? and REMI FALLS FOR HER BODYGUARD, and IS THIS LOVE FOR REMI DIVINE?

  Thursday was turning out to be anything but fantastic.

  Mason’s phone had blown up before dawn from his IT guys about the pictures, and he’d sprung into action, making sure his team was apprised of the situation. Remi had received urgent messages from Shea and Naomi shortly after. While Remi strategized with her team, Mason put his army on high alert, which wasn’t much different from their regular hypervigilant mode, except that now they, and Mason, were chewing on nails, worried the headlines would draw the stalker into a new level of crazy.

  Unfortunately, they’d gotten nowhere with the drone footage. The camera had caught a man on her property, but the footage was grainy. His head was lowered, and his dark hoodie made it impossible to get even a glimpse of his face.

  Another dead end.

  And now this.

  Remi was so mad she could spit. Tabloid headlines were nothing new, but with the stalker and their plans for later, the timing sucked. Not that there was ever a good time to be the focus of tabloids, but if there was no stalker, she’d own those headlines with all the fanfare her relationship with Mason deserved. She didn’t want to cancel their plans, and Porter had assured her that she didn’t need to, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the picture of Mason with the angry red slash through his face.

  If the stalker hurt Mason . . .

  She couldn’t even allow her mind to go there.

  “Okay, gorgeous. I think you’re ready,” Tillie said, breaking Remi from her thoughts. “I haven’t seen your brother around. He never misses a filming. Did the bodyguards scare him off?”

  “No. He hired them, actually. He had business overseas.” She’d spoken to Aiden earlier. He’d taken the headlines in stride, writing them off as propaganda to sell magazines. Remi hadn’t corrected him, which came with a modicum of guilt, but she had enough to worry about. Aiden’s sole concern had been for her safety, and she’d reassured him that Mason and his men had her covered.

  “That’s a shame.” Tillie raised her thick dark eyebrows. “He’s way more interesting to look at and talk to than most of the men hanging around here. Although your bodyguards have been the highlight of many conversations lately.” She eyed the tabloids. “Any truth to the rumors?”

  Biting back an excited Yes! Remi pushed to her feet and said, “When have you ever known the tabloids to need truth? Thanks for making me look good, Tillie.”

  Tillie wiped her hands on a towel and said, “You make it easy. Break a leg.”

  Remi stepped into the afternoon sun and was immediately whisked off to the set with Mason and Carl, Mason chewing on nails, Carl making sure she was okay to film in light of the heightened security.

  Filming couldn’t end soon enough.

  One more week, and then she was free.

  Who was she kidding? Freedom didn’t exist when a crazy person was after her.

  Just breathe, Remi. Everything will be okay.

  Once they started filming, Remi poured all of her frustrations into her character, which worked well for the angsty scene. Raz was on top of his game, too, and the director was elated with their performance. She’d give anything to be able to run into Mason’s arms and celebrate her job well done. Instead, she forced herself to act casual as she approached him and Porter, who were deep in conversation.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, trying to read Mason’s expression, which was a mix of confusion and irritation.

  “Porter was just filling me in on a change to your schedule,” Mason said. “Did you know Shea scheduled an appearance at the theater in town? Apparently they’re doing a special showing of that movie you made last summer.”

  “Shoot. I saw that in an email the other day when I was making calls for the foster-care project. It totally slipped my mind. When is it?”

  “In fifteen minutes.” The muscles in Mason’s jaw jumped.

  “Okay. I just need to change my clothes.”

  “I’ve already had the theater and attendee list checked out,” Porter said as they headed for Remi’s trailer. “It’s a short list, only fifteen attendees. Sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, boss. Merrick is covering the front entrance. I’ll cover the back, which is where you’ll enter. I’m heading over now.”

  Remi quickly changed her clothes. Mason didn’t say a word as they crossed the lot to the SUV. He drove with both hands on the wheel, his jaw clenched. Remi’s heart raced. She knew he was pissed. He had every right to be.

  He parked behind the theater, his face a mask of irritation and concern as he turned toward her and said, “Remi, you’ve got to be more careful with your schedule. To keep you safe, I need to know what’s planned at all times. I’m not trying to be controlling. I trust Porter, Merrick, and my other guys, but when it comes to your safety, I don’t like relying on others to ensure we’re doing everything necessary, especially with what the tabloids printed today.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I totally forgot, and it won’t happen again.”

  With a curt nod, he exited the car. She blew out a breath, wishing she could say something to ease his tension. She watched him talking with Porter, who was standing guard by the back door, as promised. Mason’s entire body looked at the ready, muscles taut, eyes scanning their surroundings, hands flexing. She got anxious just seeing him in that state.

  He strode to her door and helped her out, abruptly taking her elbow and using his body to shield her as he walked her to the door.

  Mason was livid, not at Remi specifically, but at the situation. The last thing he needed was for the asshole who was harassing her to slip through the cracks. He’d seen hurt glittering in her eyes when he’d told her to be more careful with her schedule, but he hadn’t been able to temper his tone, which was why he’d taken an extra minute to talk to Porter before helping Remi from the vehicle. She had enough to deal with. She didn’t need to take the brunt of his irritation.

  “Thanks, Porter,” Remi said as Porter held the door open for them.

  Porter nodded, as professional as ever.

  Mason kept his eyes peeled as they entered the back of the theater and followed a hallway through a set of double doors. They followed signs toward the lobby. He knew he had to give Remi room to do her job, but the idea of even fifteen fanatical fans coming at her at once bothered him.

  He stopped before the doors that led to the lobby and said, “Ready, Princess?”

  A practiced smile slid into place, and he fucking hated that. He hated knowing he’d caused her to force a smile when she had to put on a good face for her fans. She’d been working long hours on the set. Once they were home, the stress fell away because they were finally alone, but that didn’t mean her day was over. They made calls for the foster-care projec
t, cooked dinner, talked about everything from ideas for the projects to things they’d like to do together once the stalker was behind bars. Sometimes they took time to just relax, and they always fell into each other’s arms, making love until they were too sated to move. Guilt tightened like a noose around his neck. He hadn’t slowed down to consider how jam-packed her schedule really was. It was no wonder something slipped through the cracks.

  He stepped closer and said, “I’m sorry I spoke to you so harshly. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I’m making your job harder, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

  “No, you’ve got a lot on your plate, and you forgot to tell me one thing. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m just wound tight because of all the shit going down. I’ll get it under control.”

  “I know. Let’s get this over with so we can go home and unwind together.”

  Heat smoldered in her beautiful eyes, and though he wasn’t sure he deserved it, he was damn glad to see her feelings hadn’t changed.

  He pushed through the doors, and the scent of popcorn hung in the air as he followed Remi in, scanning the empty lobby.

  “Mason!”

  He spun around at the sound of the sweetest little girl he knew. Brooklyn barreled into him as Krista came out of the ladies’ room behind her, she and Remi both grinning like Cheshire cats.

  Remi embraced Krista. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.”

  Mason crouched to hug Brooklyn, and his heart took a perilous leap. The three females he cared most about were right there in that room, and Remi had made it happen.

  “Are you surprised?” Brooklyn exclaimed, happiness shimmering in her big brown eyes, which were just like her mother’s. Her long dark hair fell straight down her back from beneath her favorite black fedora. Some little girls loved jewelry. Brooklyn loved hats, and she had dozens of them.