Knowing the risks of getting caught by the press—especially while they were still speculating over who’d given her a hickey in Georgia—I probably should have stepped away from her as soon as we were off stage. Should have dropped my hand from her back, at the very least. Pretended she didn’t affect me the way she did, at least until I could get her alone to talk about us going public as a couple so she’d have some say in how it was handled. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though. Instead, I accepted a glass of champagne from a server and remained at Morgan’s side. She grabbed a glass, too, and promptly lifted it to her lips.
“Whoa,” I breathed out, yanking the half-empty glass from her hand. Startled blue eyes blinked up at me as her plump, red lips parted on a gasp. “It’s going to be a long night with plenty of people shoving alcohol into your hand. You’re going to want to slow down the pace a little.”
She tilted her head to the side, and dark curls spilled over a pale shoulder. I wanted to slide my fingers through the silky locks, wrap them around a fist, and tug her head back so I could claim her lips. “It’s either down a glass of the bubbly or jump your bones in front of everyone backstage. And I’m sure there’s at least one person here who’d like nothing more than to snag a photo while you banged me against a wall because it’d make them a millionaire.”
Her bold claim, as ridiculously worded as it was, made me roar with laughter. Several heads turned our way, and I was grateful for the fact we were still backstage and hadn’t headed next door yet. If we’d been at the Dolby Theatre already, every single camera would have been aimed our way at the rare public show of my humor. Years in the business had taught me to only show the media what I wanted them to see in an effort to keep my private life exactly that—private.
I bent low and whispered in her ear, “I love that you’re as funny as you are gorgeous, but you should probably avoid talking about me fucking you right now if you want me to be able to walk without a steel pipe in my pants.”
“Sorry,” she breathed out, blinking up at me with bright eyes. “I’m just . . . I can’t . . . you’re really here.”
“Of course, I am. I meant it when I said that people in committed relationships do what they have to do to make time together,” I reminded her. “There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to miss my woman winning her first Oscar.”
“You have no idea how much it means to me that you figured out a way to be here for this.” She blinked away the sheen of tears before they spilled down her cheeks. “I think I was more shocked to see you on stage than to hear my name called as the winner.”
“That makes sense to me since you were a shoo-in for the award, and it’s not like you expected me to be here.” Thinking about all the strings I’d had to pull to set my plan into motion, I offered her a sheepish grin. “Hell, I wasn’t even one-hundred percent certain that I’d be able to swing it until last night.”
She swatted my arm and gave me a mock-glare. “And you still kept it a secret from me when we talked earlier today. I totally thought I couldn’t reach you because you were stuck on set and would miss it if I won.”
“What can I say? I wanted to surprise you.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m honestly surprised that nobody put me asking to present the best actress award you were nominated for at the last minute together with your hickey from the mystery man in Georgia while I was filming there and came up with us as a couple.”
“About that—”
“Sorry to interrupt,” one of the backstage directors murmured. His eyes darted back and forth between Morgan and I before he cleared his throat. “They’re ready for Miss Kelly in the photo room.”
“Oh, okay,” Morgan sighed, the light in her eyes dimming slightly. “I guess I’d better get going, then.”
She took a step away from me, but I didn’t let her go far before I handed both our glasses to the backstage director and placed Morgan’s hand in the crook of my arm. “Sorry, beautiful. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Not when I came all the way here to be with you.”
I led her to the person who was assigned to escort her out the back of the Dolby Theatre to the adjoining Loews hotel as though it was the most normal thing in the world for us to be walking arm-in-arm. As if it was something everyone had seen us do regularly. But the way our escort’s eyes widened in shock before she swiveled on her heel reminded me that the outside world was going to consider the sight of us together to be headline news.