Ten
Meghan carried her purse while Isaac toted the rest of her luggage into his upstairs apartment. At the threshold of his bedroom, he paused.
“Are you okay staying in here with me?”
She nodded, feeling oddly shy.
He settled her bags next to the bed and she dropped her purse onto the dresser. An awkward moment descended as they stood in silence.
It hadn’t occurred to her until just now that moving in with Isaac would mean sharing a bedroom during other times, not just when they were naked together. As intimate as sex had been, sleeping next to him or sharing morning coffee seemed more so.
“What do you want to do first?” he asked, crossing his arms. He’d shoved his shirtsleeves up, revealing sinewy forearms. His slow grin was contagious and soon she was smiling back at him.
“Is this shortsighted?” she asked, hating that she wasn’t sure. Shortsighted might as well be her middle name.
“This as in...” He gestured around the room. “This?”
“We know what we’re doing, right?”
“Absolutely,” he answered with enough certainty that she believed him. “We’re going to hang out for the next month. Here, around town and on set. When filming is done, we’ll act as if we’re maintaining a long-term relationship. In a few months—or hell, weeks—fans will lose interest. We’ll fizzle out naturally.”
“That sounds doable.” His confidence set her at ease. He understood the world of fame better than she did. Plus, Kendall and Max knew how to circumvent the public, or involve them, when necessary. “Just making sure I’m not being rash.”
“Are you often rash?” He stroked her arm with his fingertips, captured her hand in his and slid their fingers together.
“I have been known to make a foolish decision here and there. Did I tell you about my time-share in Florida?”
“Say it isn’t so.” His tone was light, and a soft chuckle followed. Nothing like the way Kendall had reacted when she’d learned Meghan had sunk her savings into the bad investment. Kendall had used that same scolding older-sister tone from earlier. The one that painted Meghan as the problematic Squire.
“It’s so. If I manage to book outside of the company’s blackout dates, you can come visit.”
“Nah. I’ll take you out to Belle Island instead.”
Her breath caught as she imagined visiting his private island, the one she’d pictured over and over. How fun would that be? But then she figured he hadn’t been serious about the offer. His plan hadn’t included them having an actual long-distance relationship, or vacationing together. Not that she was anywhere near ready for a relationship of the magnitude of their pretend one. Being engaged for real would mean choosing where they would live permanently. How would that work with Isaac on one coast and her on the other?
She shook off the thought. She was getting ahead of herself. There was no future that included them dating beyond their temporary status. She glanced down at her ring. “Does it have a backstory I should know about? Was it your grandmother’s? A family heirloom?”
“Grandmother’s ring is in Max’s possession.” He kissed her hand. She couldn’t tear her eyes off him when he’d been on her television screen years ago, or when he’d been on set earlier today. And now, a breath away from her, not staring at him became equally impossible. He brushed the chunky teardrop diamond with his thumb. “This one is a fake.”
“Really?” It didn’t look fake. The stone—or whatever it was—glinted in the dim light, twinkling like an actual diamond.
“I lifted it from the props room.”
“You didn’t!”
“Did.”
“Will you get in trouble?”
He shook his head. “I doubt it. They probably won’t notice it’s gone.”
The faux diamond twinkled when she wiggled her fingers. “This sounded like fun at first. Just a white lie to save you from bad publicity and draw in the good. Are we lying to ourselves as well as everyone else?”
“No. We’re giving the public the version of the truth they want. Plus, we’re not lying to each other. That’s what matters. Your sister and my brother are afraid we’re going to hurt each other, but you and I have an agreement. We’re not going to do that.”
“We won’t.” Not only could he trust her, she could trust herself. “We have the widest, most open eyes imaginable. We’re better off than most couples. We know what’s beneath the attraction.”
She rested her palm over his thumping heart. He closed his hand over hers and his pupils darkened, eating up the blue surrounding them.
“Which means we are free to focus on the attraction part.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what it means.” She plucked a button free on his shirt, then another. Once his shirt was open, she ran her hand over his tanned skin, dark chest hair and along the bumps of his taut abs. Her entire body tightened when his did, their shared desire saturating the scant space between them.
He whispered the words “My turn” and then pulled her shirt over her head.