by Cat Johnson
“Yes, he’s fine. He’s here with me now. But there was an incident.”
“What kind of incident?” I asked.
Jamey was right next to me, concern on his face as he listened to my half of the conversation.
“It seems a stranger was hanging around outside the school. A man. He approached your son and started asking questions.”
“Oh my God. What kind of questions?”
“About you and someone named Jamey. Do you know who that is?”
“Yes, I know a Jamey.”
Jamey’s eyes widened at the mention of his name.
“Charlie said the man had a camera and was taking his picture. Needless to say, it’s concerning.”
“A strange man taking my son’s picture outside of school? Yes, I agree. It’s very concerning.”
Jamey’s chest rose with the breath he sucked in. I could see a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth.
“Ask if the guy is still there. What kind of car did he drive? Are there surveillance cameras on school property?” He shook his had. “I’m gonna kill the bastard.”
As Jamey turned into some odd mix of super sleuth and vigilante, I shushed him.
The principal continued, “Would you be able to come in and sign an incident report sometime today? And of course, if you felt the need to take Charlie out of school for the remainder of the day, I wouldn’t be opposed to you taking him home. It was upsetting for him.”
“Yes, of course. I can come over right now. See you in a bit.” I disconnected the call.
I didn’t have time to tell Jamey I needed to get to the school before he said, “I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t need to. I’m just signing a paper and picking up Charlie.”
“I’m coming.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because that guy was there for me. And he still might be there. They don’t usually give up easily. Come on. We can talk about this as I drive.” He grabbed my elbow and turned toward his SUV.
“Oh, no. I’m driving. You’re upset.”
“And you’re not?” he asked.
“Yes, of course I am. Some strange creeper, possibly a pedophile, was in contact with my son.”
“He’s not a pedophile, at least not that I know of.”
“You know who this person is?” I asked him.
“Not for certain, but I can guess.”
“And?” I stood my ground, arms folded.
When Jamey finally realized I wasn’t going anywhere until he told me what he knew, he said, “I’m guessing it’s one of the photographers who is always following me around trying to get a story. I saw a car parked outside your place yesterday. I forgot about it because of the whole thing with the horse. Fuck.” He jerked his head in a single violent nod as he bit out the curse. “I should have known right then. But how the fuck did they find me here? And why now?”
I blew out a breath. As bad as this revelation was, it was better than what I’d been imagining. Paparazzi were preferable to a pedophile any day.
“It makes sense if he was asking about you by name,” I said.
“Yup.” He pressed his lips together.
“Where’d you see this car parked?”
“Along the road. Down about where Belle’s . . . mother fucker.” His eyes widened as he shot a glance at me. “He probably climbed the fence from road and cut across Belle’s paddock—”
“Then opened her gate to get out so he could get closer to the house,” I finished his thought.
“Yup.” Jamey nodded. “Dammit. I knew I’d closed that gate. Now I’m really gonna kill this guy when I get my hands on him.”
With his jaw set hard, making him look even more classically handsome than when he donned a schoolboy grin, I started to have inappropriate thoughts about this man.
Now was not the time for those kind of thoughts because I realized with Jamey’s boxing background, he probably could kill this guy with his bare hands.
Besides that, Charlie was at school and, reportedly, upset. Although knowing him, he was fine and using this as a good excuse to get half a day off.
“You still want to go with me to the school? Or would you rather start your paparazzi hunt here?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh, I’m coming with you to school. I’m still hoping I can get a picture of the car and a license plate number from a security camera.”
“And if there are cameras and there is a picture, then what? What will you do with it?” As far as I knew, these photographers who followed around celebrities danced close to but not over the line of the law. Usually just standing on public property and taking pictures wasn’t illegal. They couldn’t be arrested for that.
“I’ve got friends who can take care of him.” He nodded gravely, his eyes narrowed as if he was plotting the man’s death as he spoke.
I should probably be concerned this man was possibly planning to put a hit out on a photographer just for talking to my son. Instead, I stepped closer and pulled him toward me, pressing a short kiss to his lips.
Something about his over-the-top defense of Charlie made me need to kiss him.
I pulled back and said, “You’re adorable. I just love you—your tough side.”
Holy shit, I’d almost said I love you.
In fact, I had said it. And if I hadn’t scrambled to cover it up and if he hadn’t been so distracted by the photographer, Jamey would have realized I’d said it. Thank God he hadn’t.
But even more concerning than the fact I’d said it, was that I thought I might mean it.
I could not fall for Jamey Garret. The appearance of the paparazzi should be a very vivid reminder of what his life was like when we weren’t here in the bubble in which I lived.
“I’m glad you like my tough side.” Jamey rolled his eyes, but I could see his anger lifting as he shook his head and let out a small smile. “Can we go now? I want to talk to Charlie and anyone else who might have seen this guy.”
“Yes, Sherlock. We can go.” Right now, joking seemed the way to go. I could worry about the ramifications of my feelings later.
NINETEEN
JAMEY
“Don’t be mad, Jamey. I’m okay.”
I twisted in the passenger seat of Maisie’s truck to look at Charlie sitting behind me.
“I’m glad you’re okay, kid. But it’s not okay that he was there. That man should not have been bothering you at school or anywhere else.” I was mad. Livid. But I didn’t want to upset Charlie.
He’d survived his first run in with the paparazzi remarkably well. To him, it was exciting and meant half a day off from school.
To me, it was one more thorn in my side, but not just my side. Now my fame was affecting the people I cared about.
I realized I hadn’t dated a normal woman since before the first movie. And after the movie, my one relationship had been with a woman who sought me out for the media attention it would bring her.
She was nothing like Maisie. Until now I hadn’t realized exactly how much upheaval being with me could bring to this family. Photographers trespassing on their property. Endangering the horses. Following Charlie to school.
It was too much and I had no clue how to deal with it.
I could hire security, I guess. Rick’s old SEAL teammates were in that business. I trusted him so of course I trusted his friends to do a good job keeping Maisie’s family and property safe.
An image entered my mind. That of Rick, big and imposing in his sunglasses, the telltale bulge in his pants leg from the gun and ankle holster. His arms crossed as he studied everyone and anyone who came near Sierra—and that was after he’d done a sweep of the property and buildings to make sure the area was safe.
I’d spent months on set and off with Rick and Sierra during production and afterward.
He was good at his job. No doubt. And I know he tried to blend into the background and be invisible, but there was no hiding him or what he was.
; Is that what I wanted for the woman in my life and her family? Armed guards? Worse, was that what was required if we wanted to be together?
I drew in a breath and glanced at Maisie’s profile as she drove. She was suspiciously quiet. I couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t asked for this bullshit in her life.
“I’m going to be the most popular kid in school now that everyone knows I’m your friend and you’re dating my mom.”
Maisie sucked in air. “Charlie!”
She shot me a sideways glance. I tried and failed to read her feelings about that label from her expression.
Sure we’d done lots of things together—in the bedroom, in the equipment shed—but the one thing we hadn’t done was define our relationship or labeled ourselves girlfriend and boyfriend. Yet.
I wasn’t sure what Maisie and I were. I knew what I wanted us to be, but I had no idea what she wanted.
Today had definitely been a setback in our relationship.
“Uh, yeah. Maybe let’s not tell anyone that for now. Okay?” I glanced at Charlie. He was pouting.
Finally, he said, “Okay. Can I still have my friends over to watch the movie you gave me?”
My eyes widened. It was the movie with the love scene featuring me and Sierra naked. The scene that Maisie had covered Charlie’s eyes during.
Shit, I really wasn’t used to being around young kids. That had been a horrible choice to give to her ten-year old.
“Um, how about this. I’ll bring you over another movie that you and your friends will like even better.”
One without a close-up of my naked ass as I pretended to fuck my co-star on camera.
“Really?” His eyes lit with excitement.
I nodded. “Yup. I’ll get it to you tomorrow. Promise.”
“Okay.”
That seemed to appease him, so Charlie was taken care of. And as Maisie turned into the driveway of the farm, I figured I could work on salvaging us as soon as we were out of the truck and alone.
She pulled up to the barn and got out to open the back door of the king cab for Charlie to climb out.
“Mom. Can I go watch television?” he asked.
“Sure. But only one hour then you have to do your homework. Okay?”
“Okay.” He was already running for the house as he answered, his backpack dangling from one hand.
He definitely had recovered from the trauma of the encounter with the photographer, if there had been any trauma to start.
I was just reaching for the handle of the passenger door when my cell started to vibrate. I climbed down and pulled it out of my pocket.
Frowning at the display, I said, “I have two missed calls, two voicemails and three texts. How did I miss all that?”
Maisie walked to me. “There’s no cell signal on school property.”
Every one of the notifications was from Jerry. He liked to bother me, but not this much in so short a time. Something was up.
“Guess I better find out what’s wrong.” I drew in a bracing breath and hit to view the text messages first since those were the easiest to access.
The first one said CALL ME. All caps.
That wasn’t necessarily bad. It could be something good, like he’d just got me a thirty million dollar movie deal.
That theory only lasted until I saw the second text message and the sheer amount of exclamation points.
WTF!!! Have you seen this??? Call me!!!
That led me to the next message, which was a web link. I knew it was going to be bad even before I hit the link and the webpage opened.
The pictures loaded and there I was, kissing Maisie by the barn. And there she was, shading her eyes as she watched her student in the practice ring. And there was Charlie getting on the school bus at the end of the driveway.
But the pictures weren’t the worst thing. The headline was.
Jamey Garret’s Secret Love Child with Mystery Horsewoman?
I sucked in a breath and glanced up at Maisie.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You’re not going to like this,” I said.
I didn’t want to show her but I had no choice. Finally, I thrust the cell toward her.
Grabbing my hand holding the phone, she leaned closer. She frowned at the screen and then looked at me. “What the hell? How did they get these close-up shots?”
“Long distance lens. They can be pretty far away and still zoom in to get a clear shot. He probably did jump the fence and cut through Belle’s paddock, just like we thought.”
I glanced up and saw the horror in her expression and I couldn’t blame her. I understood everything she felt. The invasion of privacy. The feeling of being violated because a stranger had illegally trespassed on her property, invaded her life and her home, the one place that should be a sanctuary.
“They took pictures of Charlie.” She raised her gaze to mine. I saw anger warring with fear in her eyes.
“I know. And that’s unacceptable.”
Jerry had a public relations firm on retainer just for these kinds of incidents so I wasn’t worried about damage to my career from the pictures or the headline. They’d know what to do to straighten this out on my end.
But the damage had also been done to Maisie and her family . . . and to us and our budding relationship.
I think for the first time she realized what it meant to be with me. Really understood it.
She might have an ex and a son as baggage coming into our relationship, but I was not without my own. A whole luggage cart full.
“Maisie, I’m going to deal with this. But until then,” I swallowed hard and continued, “I think maybe I shouldn’t come here for awhile.”
Her eyes widened but she didn’t say anything.
“The photographers follow me,” I continued. “Wherever I go. If I stop coming here, then they’ll leave you alone.”
Eventually.
Her brows drew low. “If that’s what you want to do.”
I nodded. “It is. It’s for the best.”
“What about your lessons?” she asked. Her voice was usually as strong and bold as she was. But today it sounded so small.
“I’ve made progress. It’s going to have to be enough.”
“Okay. Um, I need to go check on Charlie.” She turned and it crushed my soul to watch her walk away.
“Maisie,” I called at her back before she got very far.
She turned, her eyes shiny. She blinked a few times. “Yeah?”
I wanted to tell her I was falling for her. That I wanted to be with her, no matter what. Instead all I said was, “I’ll fix this. I promise.”
She nodded and strode toward the house.
I didn’t say goodbye. Neither did she. But we both knew that’s exactly what this was.
It had to be. For now. But not forever.
I was on the phone leaving a voicemail for Rick before I’d driven out of the driveway. I gave him the information and asked that he start arranging the security with his friends’ company. One man for the farm, twenty-four/seven, and a second to shadow Charlie while he was at school.
The paparazzi would keep snooping around Maisie for a long while before they decided it was a dead end. I figured she’d be a target for them at least until the movie started shooting. Then, hopefully, they’d know I’d be on the lot all day and stalk me there.
But the minute I came back to the farm she’d be on their radar again. And after those pictures, probably more than one guy would be hanging around trying to get a story.
I drew in a breath. I needed to do something. I’d be damned before I let my stupid fame hurt this woman or her family.
But I was just as determined it wasn’t going to ruin my life either. My love for her. The possibility of a future for us.
I’d give it all up—the fame, the fortune, my whole career—before I let that happen. I’d survived before I had it all. I had no doubt I could survive after it was over.
I hit the accelerator and broke the speed
limit, leaving the farm and my happiness behind me.
Next stop, Los Angeles.
TWENTY
MAISIE
I swiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
Three days after he’d left and never looked back I was still crying over Jamey Garret, when chances were he hadn’t given me a second thought.
Okay, that wasn’t completely true.
An overnight delivery addressed to Charlie containing a DVD of Jamey’s boxing movie arrived the day after he’d left. But that was for Charlie. Not for me. And he hadn’t bothered to call or text me so I figured that was that. We were done.
Angry at myself for letting my guard down when it came to him, and at Jamey for taking advantage of it when I did, and at the tissue box because it was now empty, I slid off my bed and stomped to the door.
Peeking into the hall, I made sure it was clear before I padded to the bathroom, stole a handful of toilet paper and rushed back to the privacy of my bedroom.
Stupid. That’s what I was. I knew I shouldn’t have fallen for Jamey Garret. What had I been thinking?
And I didn’t even get the full month with him, like I’d thought I would. I figured if I got dumped it would be after he was back in Hollywood. Not before.
Sure, he said he’d fix things, but he was talking about the ridiculous story online about Charlie being his son.
Hell, Jamey would be a step up from Dusty as far as illegitimate fathers went.
I didn’t care about the story. Everyone in this town knew who Charlie’s father was. Knew I’d been an unwed mother at eighteen. Old Mrs. Winters reminded them often in case they forgot.
It was Jamey walking away from me so easily that I couldn’t deal with. It hadn’t looked at all hard for him to leave.
Apparently I was easy to walk away from.
A new flood of tears filled my eyes just as there was a knock on my bedroom door. I swiped the wad of toilet paper under each eye.
Delusional though it might be that whoever was on the other side of that door wouldn’t know I was crying, I drew in a breath, pretended I was okay and said, “Come in.”