“Hi, Polly,” I said as I passed her with Molly the cat, headed toward the grocery store. The call with Ruby had calmed me and I’d spent most of the day yesterday sleeping. Today seemed brighter. The sun agreed, and when I’d heard Matt’s car pull out from the driveway this morning, I decided to go grab some ice cream and broccoli.
Polly stopped abruptly and I turned back. “Did you hear we have a movie star staying in Worthington?”
My stomach churned. The secret was out. “We do? Where’d you hear that?”
“Bob said his daughter spotted someone in there.” She pointed in the direction of the grocery store.
I nodded, trying to freeze my face into a neutral expression. “Well, Worthington’s a beautiful place. It’s bound to attract attention.”
“I hear he’s very handsome. Tall. Smells good.”
“Have you been sniffing strangers again?” I teased.
She shrugged. “Just what I heard. He was polite, too, by all accounts.”
“He was just wandering around town?”
“Picking up milk and chips, apparently. He signed a few autographs and took a few pictures with people.”
How had I been so dumb? I really was the last to know everything in this place.
“Speaking of, I’m just going to get a few things myself.” I waved, then dipped into the store. I grabbed a basket and sped around the three aisles in record time. As I waited in line to be served, a magazine stocked by the register caught my eye.
There he was, smiling out at me from the cover of a popular tabloid. How could I not have noticed him before? I might not have seen his movies, but I must have come across his face a hundred times.
I put my basket on the counter and quickly stuck a copy of the magazine in as well, hoping it would go unnoticed.
“He’s staying in town,” Jennifer said as she swiped the bar code of the tabloid and placed it in a bag. “He was in here buying milk, chips and gum yesterday. I served him.”
“Really?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested.
“Apparently, he picked up some beer at the liquor store.” She scanned the other items I had in my basket. “He was very polite, and twice as handsome in real life,” she said, nodding at my magazine.
She didn’t need to tell me how handsome he was. I shoved some cash at her, desperate to get out of there and find out more about the man I’d slept with. Was he really the kind of guy to sleep with someone when he was getting married? I wanted to get out of there so I could tear those pages open and see what they were saying.
Matt
I strode up the stairs to Lana’s porch, still dressed in my running gear, and rapped on the back door. Christ, what a mess. I’d cursed Sinclair out after Lana had left yesterday. He might be responsible for my brand but only because I allowed it. That didn’t mean he could burst into my house uninvited and scream at me.
Even if he was right.
Sleeping with Lana hadn’t been smart, but it had been unavoidable. There was no way I could have resisted her any longer. When she’d come over for a beer last night without a scrap of makeup on, it had hit me. She wasn’t trying to impress me. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
I knocked on the door again. She hadn’t answered when I’d dropped by yesterday either. No doubt she was embarrassed—Sinclair had chased her out in only a sheet. I at least wanted to make sure she was okay. If I had her number I could have messaged her, but I hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye, or thanks for the sex, before she’d run out as if the building was on fire. Not that I could blame her.
Jeez, Sinclair could be such a prick. Lana wasn’t some Hollywood girl fucking me to get ahead. She was different. She was cool and confident and not interested in me just because of who I was.
I tried to peer through the kitchen window but the blinds were still closed. Her car was in the drive, so maybe I’d go for a run and try again later. I dropped down the stairs two at a time and almost knocked into Lana as she came toward me, her nose buried in a magazine.
I grinned as she looked up and she froze. Her eyes went from the tabloid to my shoes.
“You’re an asshole,” she said matter-of-factly as she smacked the magazine against my stomach and tried to move past me.
“Hey,” I said, taking the tabloid from where it had hit me in the abs and changing direction to follow her back up her porch steps. “You don’t know me well enough yet to know if I’m an asshole.”
“I know enough.” She stomped toward her front door and jerked it open, nearly hitting me in the face.
“Look,” I said, lingering on the threshold, “I’m sorry about Sinclair. He oversteps his boundaries sometimes. But he does have my best interests at heart even if it’s difficult to tell.”
“Yeah, well it looks like overstepping is catching. You need to go.” She unloaded her grocery bag onto the counter and began to put things away.
I grinned. I liked her fired up like this. I could too easily picture pinning her arms behind her back while her warm body struggled against mine before becoming pliant and welcoming. “Hey, I said I’m sorry. He’s gone now and I have the rest of the day off.”
Scowling, she turned to me. It would have been scary if it hadn’t been so damn cute. “Seriously? You expecting a blow job just because your publicist isn’t here?” Her eyes flitted to the magazine she’d thrown at me. “I suggest you call your girlfriend, or fiancée or whoever the hell she is.”
Wow, she was really mad. I held my hands up in surrender. “Hey, slow down for a second. It wasn’t my fault Sinclair crashed in yesterday. And this”—I held the tabloid up—“is all bullshit. Obviously.” I flung the magazine onto the counter.
“Oh? So it’s bullshit that you’re engaged?”
“Of course it is.”
She rolled her eyes and slammed the freezer door shut. “Oh well, you only cheated on your girlfriend. That’s okay then.”
I took a step into her house. Before he’d left, Sinclair had given me a confidentiality agreement for Lana to sign, but right at this moment, I didn’t give a shit about anything other than making her understand the situation. “Hey, I’m not a cheater. Audrey isn’t my girlfriend.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, stomping around the counter toward me. “Let me point out the obvious.” She flipped the magazine to a double page filled with photographs of me with Audrey on red carpets, in restaurants, even one of us going for a hike.
I really didn’t know Lana well enough to explain the details of my and Audrey’s relationship, and Sinclair would kill me if I told her the truth without putting an NDA in place. “Audrey and I are friends.”
She burst out laughing. “Right. Now, can you get out of my kitchen? I have things to do.”