Everyone is out of the house in a matter of seconds. The door clips shut with a sickening finality.
Aaron and I look at each other, our suitcases sitting between us.
He smiles. “Welcome home, wife.”
Chapter 9
“Don’t even.” Hand on my hip, I stare him down.
“What?” Aaron folds his arms, lips drawing into a tight line. “I merely addressed you appropriately. You are indeed my wife, and I’m your husband.”
Distaste drips from his words.
Even though I’m of the same feeling, I’m also offended. I have every right to be annoyed at having to share the same space with Aaron, but what have I ever done to him?
“Look,” I hiss. “I’m not exactly thrilled to be here either, but that doesn’t mean we have to make it any worse than it already is.”
“I wasn’t the one giving stink eye during the ceremony.”
That makes me gasp. “I wasn’t giving stink eye!”
Aaron guffaws. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
“I…you…” Hands balled into fists, I press them tight against my sides. “You ruined my audition!”
His eyebrows shoot up. A smirk lifts his lips. “How did I ruin an audition when you got the job? It seems it’s the other way around. I helped you make it here today.”
“You made…you…” Again, I’m too angry to even finish a full sentence. I keep strangling on my words.
“What really perplexes me is the match.” Fingers pressed to his chin, Aaron paces the foyer. “You and I, we’re clearly…”
He stops pacing to wave a hand at me. Disappointment commands his face.
“I guess you can’t trust technology for everything,” I grumble. “Obviously, the app doesn’t work.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Every system has its flaws. Just because we’re not a match doesn’t mean the app is trash.”
“Whatever. All we have to do is get through two weeks. It can’t be that hard. At least this house has plenty of space.”
Everything I’m saying is done in an attempt to cheer myself up. If I look at the positive side, things aren’t that bad. They’re good, even.
I’m still on a show that’s going to bring me exposure. It’s a great career move, and there’s some money at the end of it.
“I don’t want to pretend for the cameras,” Aaron says.
“You have to be kidding me.”
He spreads his palm. “What would I joke for?”
“Why on earth would you not want this to be as easy as possible?”
“Easy is good,” he says, “but why lie?”
“It’s reality TV,” I snarl. “No one cares. Think of it as acting.”
He makes a grumpy face, but I’m done. Turning on my heel, I walk through the closest doorway. It takes me through a massive living room with a fireplace big enough to camp out in and into an equally large kitchen.
Aaron’s footsteps sound behind me, but I don’t acknowledge his presence in any way. Instead, I walk through the second door off the kitchen and into a dining room.
This affords a breathtaking view of the backyard and beach. Next to the pool, there’s a fire pit and a patch of grass with a hammock strung between two trees. A door in the wooden fence leads right to the sand.
It’s literally a dream home.
“I wonder who owns this,” I say, before remembering that I don’t want to be talking to Aaron at all.
He joins me at the sliding glass door and looks out at the view. “It’s decent.”
That makes my eyes roll. “Sorry that it’s not up to your standards, your highness.”
What’s up with this guy? I’m just as unhappy as he is to be paired together, but isn’t there anything about this experience that brings him joy?
There’s a loud knock on the front door.
“That must be our cars,” I say, relieved to have an excuse to walk away.
Luzia is at the front door along with a guy in a ball cap, who must be another production assistant.
“Wow, this is the right place,” she says, first thing.
Edging forward, she looks past me and into the foyer.
“It’s gorgeous,” she whispers.
“Yeah. Too bad it comes with some bad spirits.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” I point at the keys in her hand. “Are those for me?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She hands my keys over. “Eddie,” she says to the other PA.
“Huh?” His back is to us. He’s inspecting Aaron’s sports car, the top of which is down. Past it, a third car idles, a driver behind its wheel.
“The keys,” Luzia sighs.
“Oh. Right.” He passes Aaron’s keys to me as well. “That was a sweet ride.”
“What’s in the house?” Luzia asks me. “Is there a hot tub spa?”
“Uh, I don’t know. All I’ve seen so far is the kitchen and the dining room. There is a pool, though.”
“Lucky.” She sighs in envy.
“Thanks for bringing the cars,” I tell them, my own hungry gaze turned on my vehicle.
Think of the paycheck. Think of the exposure.
If I only keep reminding myself of why I’m doing this, everything will be okay. I’ll make it through the next fourteen days.
“Where’s Aaron?” Luzia asks.
I shrug. “Beats me.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe he’s changing. Should I come in and—”
“Damn, Luzia,” Eddie groans. “Thirsty, much?”
“What?” she cries. “I was going to suggest I do a security check.”
“Since when are you in security?”
“This place is nice,” she protests. “It’s, like, a prime target for burglaries!”
“Whatever.” He shakes his head.
“Thanks again, guys,” I say. With a wave, I close the door and lock it.
Sighing, I lean my back against the wall. It’s not even close to sunset, and I’m already exhausted. This day has wrung more emotion from me than I ever thought I could excrete.
“Who was it?”
Aaron stops in the entrance to the foyer.
“Our keys.” I toss his to him, purposefully aiming off to the side.
He surprises me by still catching the keys.
Pocketing mine, I grab my suitcase and haul it up the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Aaron calls after me.
“Why do you need to know?” I call back down.
He doesn’t answer, but he does follow me. Again.
On the second floor, I do a quick lookover of the area. Five bedrooms, each with a corresponding bathroom. Two of them could tie for the master. It’s the one in the back corner that has plenty of natural light that I choose.
“Mine!” I yell, parking my suitcase by the bed.
Aaron leans against the doorframe. “I wasn’t going to fight you for a room.”
“I’m just setting the boundaries, that’s all.”
“The boundaries being you get to shout at me whenever you want, and I can’t return the anger?”
“I’m not mad,” I bark.
“No?”
A heavy exhale rakes my ribcage. “I wasn’t mad before. Now, you’re making me mad. Don’t you see how you do this? It’s the same thing that happened at the audition. You go out of your way to annoy me and then blame me for the reaction. You don’t take any responsibility at all.”
“I don’t go out of my way to annoy you, Rachel. I guess it’s a surprise to you, but I actually have better things to do than get under your skin.”
“So why are you standing there? Hm? Why aren’t you doing some of those better things?”
He lifts his hands in surrender, turns around, and walks down the hallway.
I collapse on the bed, face-first. The mattress does little to muffle my loud groan. Rolling over, I stare up at the ceiling.
But only for a moment. Nothing Aaron does will hold me down for long.
The curtains are half drawn. I open them the rest of the way, letting in the late-afternoon light. The sun’s rays warm my face, instantly relaxing me.
Thankfully, I thought ahead and brought several books I’ve been wanting to read for months. If I play this right, staying in this house will feel like a vacation.
So long as my husband doesn’t bug me too much.
Husband.
The upset rolls through my belly. Wiggling my fingers, I hold my left hand up. In the golden light, the wedding ring glows.
It’s a pretty ring, but there’s a bad taste in my mouth every time I look at it. Slipping it off, I search for someplace in the room to keep it.
The bedroom is sparsely decorated, the only things in it other than the king-sized bed being a leather chair, a wardrobe, a mirror, and a bedside table with a few drawers.
Since the drawers are empty, I leave the ring in the top one, along with some of the weight that’s been pressing on my heart all day.
Aaron and I might be legally married, but that’s where our bond ends. Not one bit of my soul, mind, or body is tied to him.
Going to the door, I peek up and down the hallway. There’s no sign of my annoying roommate. Hopefully, he’s taken to one of the bedrooms and plans on staying there the whole evening.
Time to explore the house.
Creeping quietly down the stairs, I hook a left and find myself in the living room. There’s a bit more here, decoration-wise. A comfy-looking couch rests on top of a giant faux-fur rug, and a bookshelf is covered in sea-themed knickknacks.
The one shelf on the bookcase actually holding books doesn’t offer many options, though. About half of the dozen titles are cookbooks, and the others are old classics.
Turning on the TV, I find no channels. There’s also no internet to connect to. Instead, a row of DVDs lines the bottom shelf of the TV stand. Like the books, it’s a bunch of classics.
Aside from the fact that we’re in a beachfront Santa Monica property, it feels a lot like being stuck at the house of grandparents who’ve never even heard of Wi-Fi and who are prejudiced against any movies that come in color.
At the sound of Aaron coming into the room, I straighten up.
“Anything good?” he asks.
“If you like old movies.”
“I do.”
I cast him a doubtful look.
“What? I do.” He joins me at the TV stand. Goosebumps prick my skin.
“They weren’t kidding when they said they want us to focus on spending time with each other,” I say. “There’s next to nothing to do in this house.”
“There’s the swimming pool,” Aaron points out.
I’d been hoping he wouldn’t have any interest in that, and that I would get to enjoy my time at the pool by myself.
I grunt in response.
“And I saw some board games upstairs,” he says.
“You want to play board games with me?”
His gaze shifts to the side, like he’s looking for the best answer. “Yeah,” he finally says. “It could be fun.”
I cross my arms, eyes narrowing. “Okay. Is the real Aaron somewhere upstairs tied and gagged in a closet? Why would you want to hang out with me?”
Stuffing his hands into his front pockets, he looks up at the ceiling, still not looking at me.
“Because,” he says, “if we’re going to be together the next two weeks, we might as well grin and bear it.”
“Grin and bear it?” I snap. “What about that sounds like fun?”
“No, that’s not…” Sighing, he runs a palm down his face. His gaze locks on me. “Okay, sorry. That was the wrong term. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I’m about to snap at him again, but there’s a softness in his hazel eyes.
And I can’t take it.
“How about some takeout?” Aaron asks. “Do you like Indian? There’s also Chinese and Italian menus in there.”
“I’m okay,” I say, feeling a little bad.
“Really?” Skepticism crosses his stupid perfect face.
“Yeah. I’m still full from the cake.”
“Huh.”
A heavy silence enters the room.
“How about a movie?” Aaron asks, picking up a DVD. “Have you seen this one?”
I don’t bother looking at the cover. “Yeah,” I lie. “It’s a classic.”
He laughs—really laughs. Nothing about it seems fake.
I hate it.
My mind has been made up: Aaron and I won’t be getting along. Clearly, he had a change of perspective while upstairs and decided that he should offer an olive branch, but I’m not falling for it.
“I’m just gonna go to bed,” I say, walking for the staircase.
“It’s not even dark.”
“I’m exhausted,” I answer, not turning around to look at him, not slowing my pace.
Upstairs, I close my door and look out at the view. The sunset is in full force, brilliant orange streaks shooting across the sky. It won’t last for long, so I stand at the window and take it in.
Suddenly, it hits me: this is my honeymoon.
The tears come on hot and fast, slicing down my cheeks and trickling down my neck. With aggressive movements, I swipe them away.
I’m not the kind of girl who’s spent years dreaming about her wedding, but I do want to meet someone special one day. I want to spend the majority of my life with a man who I trust and love.
This marriage is temporary, but that doesn’t mean I’m impervious to its effects. The reasons I’m doing the show are still clear in my mind, but the ache the choice has caused is also prevalent in my heart.
“It’s two weeks,” I remind myself.
After that, I’ll be back home. I’ll probably never have to see Aaron again, unless we end up doing the press appearances that were part of my contract. Even then, we’ll only be together for short periods.
And best of all, the payoff for doing this show will be all mine.
With that in mind, I watch the sun go down and darkness spreads across the beach.
Chapter 10
Sunlight wakes me.
Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I roll over and bury my face in the pile of pillows. I must have forgotten to close the curtains before crashing.
The idea of staying in bed all morning teases me, but it’s not an option. Tina said the crew would be filming mine and Aaron’s first “date” today, and that they’d be here early.
Since I have no clue what time it is, I didn’t set an alarm clock, and I don’t know when the crew is coming, I should really get up. In the face of everything going on, being as prepared as possible for the day will help me feel better.
A splash further heightens my senses. Sitting up, I look out the window. Was that from the pool?
Pushing tangled hair from my face, I go to the window. Sure enough, Aaron is in the swimming pool. It’s the crack of dawn, and he’s doing laps.
His lean, muscled arms strike the water with purpose and precision. I take a step closer to the window, his body a magnet drawing all of my attention.
At the end of the pool, he turns around and kicks the wall, propelling himself back into another lap. Even through the water’s distortion, the hard planes of his legs are obvious. He’s muscle upon muscle, a Greek god reborn as a mortal.
I swallow hard, an uncomfortable sensation growing below the belt.
It’s hard to say whether Aaron’s attractiveness makes being around him easier or harder. On one hand, it’s nice to have something so pretty to look at. On the other, it sucks physically wanting a person while not being able to stand their personality. It’s a situation I never believed I’d find myself in.
Usually, a guy being a douche completely kills any desire I might have had for him. For some reason, that’s not the case with Aaron.
Forcing myself a
way from the window, I strip my clothes off and walk for the shower. The bathroom is luxurious, with a walk-in shower that sprays from three directions and has a heated floor. Also, just as Luzia hoped, there’s a hot tub spa.
Set in its own alcove with windows around three sides of it, you have to walk up a few short steps to get into the spa. Though I didn’t take a bath in it last night, I did sit in it just to see how deep it is. Settled comfortably, I discovered the water would have come all the way to my neck.
It would be incredibly romantic to soak in it with a guy, bubbles up to our faces, some glasses of wine in hand, and nothing for light except for candles.
No sooner has the fantasy popped into my head than does Aaron’s face join it. He’s across from me in the tub, candlelight flickering off his bulging biceps and firm pecs. He reaches under the water, his fingertips brushing my thigh…
Nope.
I push the thought from my mind.
What the hell has come over me? Am I really going that crazy after only twelve hours in this house?
Stripping off the last of my clothes, I turn on the shower, test its temperature, and step into it. The firm pressure—combined with the fact that I have no other apartments to share the water heater with—melts away all irritation.
Closing my eyes, I lose myself in the shower. It’s not until I become overheated and can’t stand it anymore that I finally kill the water and step out.
Tina didn’t mention what today’s date might be, so I get dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a pretty, button-up pink blouse that has bows on the sleeves. I go to grab my white sneakers but pass over them when I see the brown cowgirl boots stuffed into my suitcase.
Perfect.
There’s one part of me I don’t mind showing the world: that of a small-town, ranch girl.
And last that I checked, the All-American angle still sold.
I’m shocked to see that, somehow, forty-five minutes have passed since I woke up. Pulling out my makeup bag, I do a quick natural look that only takes a few minutes, and then I put my damp hair into a braid.
Hurrying down the stairs, I listen for any signs of Aaron. The house is quiet.
In the kitchen, I fill up the coffee pot. As soon as it’s gurgling, I open up the fridge and inspect the contents. It’s stocked with plenty of breakfast options, but since the crew could show up at any minute, I forget about cooking and grab an individual container of strawberry yogurt.
How To Wed A Billionaire (How To... Book 3) Page 8
