Chapter Twenty-Three
The ballroom was huge, sparkling with chandeliers, expensive gowns, and more jewelry than Shelby had ever seen in one place. It kind of blew her mind that they were mingling with celebrities like Tucker Quentin, a former child star turned businessman, who was one of the richest men in the country. And he seemed to know Reece as more than a casual acquaintance.
“Those brothers of yours still up to no good?” Tuc asked, flashing his camera-ready smile as he extended his hand.
“Always,” Reece said and accepted the shake. Then he nudged her forward with a possessive hand that practically left scorch marks on the small of her back. “Tuc, this is my wife, Shelby.”
“Wait, what?” Tuc did a double take. “You’re married to this beautiful woman? Whoa. When did that happen and why wasn’t I invited? I thought we were friends, man.”
Reece winced. “It was…last minute.”
“Uh-huh.” Tuc turned that devastating smile on her. “Swept him off his feet, did you?”
She actually felt her cheeks heat with a blush, and she so wasn’t the blushing type. But, holy crap, she’d had a poster of this guy on her bedroom wall growing up. And now here he was, in the flesh. Talking to her. She opened her mouth and hoped for something cool and sophisticated, but all that came out was a fangirly, “Mr. Quentin, I loved your movies.”
He snorted a laugh. “Well, that makes a grand total of two people who actually saw them. You and my housekeeper. There’s a reason I’m not in the movie business anymore—the least of which is that I’m a shitty actor. But thank you. And please, call me Tuc.”
“Okay,” she squeaked. Later she’d be embarrassed by the sound, but it was all she could manage. “Tuc.”
Reece shook his head at her, his mouth turned up at the corners in amusement. “I’ve never heard her so quiet. I think she’s starstruck.” He kissed her temple before returning his attention to Tuc and switching right back into business mode. “If you have a minute tonight, I’d like to speak to you about a new idea in A.I. technology.”
“Hmm. A.I. huh? That’s not your usual wheelhouse, Wilde.”
“No, it’s something new we’ve been tinkering with at DMW.”
“Okay, I’m intrigued,” Tuc said and dipped a hand into his jacket pocket at the sound of a discreet chime. He took out his phone, read the text, and his smile faded. “Shit.”
“Everything okay?”
“Nope. The HORNET boys are in trouble—again. Looks like I’m flying to Europe tonight.” He pocketed his phone, but he didn’t seem all that heartbroken about having to leave. He held out his hand to Shelby. “You keep this guy from working too hard. It was nice meeting you.” Then he clapped Reece on the shoulder. “Call my office, and let’s set something up for later this week. I should be back in town by then.”
As he strode away, Shelby squealed. “Reece! You didn’t tell me you know Tucker Quentin!”
Poor guy looked genuinely baffled. “Was…I supposed to?”
“Yes! He was only, like, every teenage girl’s fantasy guy when I was in high school. I had a poster of him hanging over my bed. I always imagined him riding in on a limo like Richard Gere at the end of Pretty Woman and taking me away from my life. I blew that poster a kiss every night before I went to sleep.”
His puzzlement faded into a scowl. “You better not still have it.”
“No, of course not. I was a teenager.”
“Good. I’m the only guy you should be kissing before bed.” He snaked an arm around her waist, pulled her in to his side, and planted a possessive kiss on her lips.
It should have been an act. Days ago, it would have been. But something had changed tonight and the kiss…it tugged all the way to the bottom of her heart. It was real, and it scared the ever-loving hell out of her.
He drew away slightly, resting his forehead against hers, and gazed down into her eyes. “How are you doing? You okay?”
“Yes.” And it was the truth. The events from the afternoon still played in the back of her mind like a broken record, but she wasn’t as heartsick over it now. She was actually glad for this gala. It provided exactly the distraction she’d needed.
She poked him in the ribs. “Just don’t spring any more former teen heartthrobs on me tonight. I don’t know if my fangirl can take it. Oh my God, did you hear me? I squeaked like a freaking mouse!”
He laughed. “No more teen heartthrobs. It’s a deal,” he said and sealed it with another quick peck on the lips.
Over his shoulder, she spotted Irving James headed in their direction and winced. “Oh boy. Looks like it’s show time.”
Reece followed her gaze. Swore softly. “Yeah, looks like.”
“Reece,” James said, all fake smiles. “Sheila. It’s good to see you both.”
“Her name is Shelby,” Reece corrected.