Wild on the Red Carpet (The Hollywood Showmance Chronicles Book 3)

by Olivia Jaymes

  “She had her hand on you,” Billie said through gritted teeth. “You said you wouldn’t embarrass me. Just so you’re aware, that’s embarrassing. She thinks you’re available.”

  “I can’t imagine how she could,” Tyler declared with a shake of his head. “I spent two hours telling her how amazing you were and that I couldn’t wait to get married. As for her hand being on me, she’d just done that when you walked in and I frankly didn’t know how to get her to stop without making it a humiliating moment. For her. Garrett doesn’t like that shit.”

  The only reason Tyler would spend so much time extolling Billie’s virtues is because he was trying to get that meeting with the director. He had to persuade everyone in Hollywood and beyond that he was deeply in love.

  “You’ve never been engaged before. I think Garrett could cut you some slack on pushing away grabby females when you’re supposed to be committed to one woman. That’s the point of all of this bullshit, isn’t it? We’re supposed to be convincing the world that Tyler Gaylord, the biggest man-whore on the planet, has finally settled down with one person.”

  Her voice had gone up quite a bit at the end, telegraphing her tumultuous state of mind. Normally she was the calm one in their relationship but she didn’t feel relaxed in the least.

  “Because honestly if you can’t extricate yourself out of that kind of situation,” Billie went on. “I just don’t see how this is going to work at all. Women throw themselves at you a dozen times a day. Am I supposed to just stand there while they hang all over you? Because that’s crap, Tyler. You need to man up and step away. I won’t let you make a fool of me. I’d rather give the money back and forget all about this.”

  Except she’d already sent the money to her sister so she couldn’t give it back.

  His hands came up and cupped her cheeks so she had to look at him, his face inches from her own and his skin rough and warm.

  “Listen to me,” he said, urgency in this tone. “I would never do that to you. You’re my best friend, Billie. You’re the most important thing in my life other than my career. I’d walk in front of a bullet for you.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. “A fake Hollywood bullet.”

  His hands fell away and she instantly missed the contact. “Are you still mad?”

  She couldn’t lie. “Kind of. I’d just like to remind you that I didn’t ask for any of this. You begged me to do you a favor.”

  “Because you’re the only woman in the world that I trust. Other than my mother.” His brow was furrowed and his lips turned down, his expression sad. “But I think you don’t trust me. At least not the way I trust you. That hurts, babe.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes and her stomach churned. Hurting Tyler wasn’t what she’d set out to do. He was the one person who had brought stability into her world. He was as close to home as she would ever get, and when she was thinking straight, she knew in her heart he would never hurt her on purpose.

  “I do trust you.”

  “No, you don’t, but that’s my fault. It’s mine to fix, and I will.”

  That he cared to do it at all overwhelmed her. Her own family hadn’t cared this much.

  “How?”

  Chuckling, he gave her a lopsided grin. “Now that I don’t know. I’m not famous for my brains, baby girl. I’m just pretty.”

  “Too handsome for your own good.”

  “Mom says that to me all the time,” Tyler sighed. “And she’s always right. You are too.”

  “I know. I got it from her.”

  Levering to his feet, he nodded toward the house. “I’m going to get changed and go for a run. Want to go with me?”

  Normally she would and she ought to. The exercise would clear her head and drain any residual anger, but then she had a better idea. Peace and tranquility coming right up.

  “Actually, I think I’m going to go to the yoga studio down the street. They have a class starting in about forty-five minutes.”

  She thought he might argue with her but he simply nodded and loped back into the house, leaving her alone. Stretching out her legs, she tipped back her head so the sun warmed her face. It felt good and calming. Summer had always been her favorite season and here in Los Angeles it was pretty much summer all the time. Those long, cold winters back in Wisconsin were still all too fresh in her mind. She’d never been able to get warm. The house had always been freezing and she’d been sick more than she’d been healthy. Day after day, week after week, month after month of being nothing but miserable, sick, cold, and hungry. It wasn’t a shock that Billie had chosen somewhere pleasant to run off to.

  Would she have been as upset with Tyler if she wasn’t already emotionally drained? Between her family and the wedding plans Billie didn’t know if she was coming or going. She was constantly worried about whether Sierra was safe, and then this…relationship with Tyler. She’d always been able to handle stress but she might have reached her limit.

  She didn’t have the luxury of falling apart, however. People were counting on her and it was her job to be the practical one. She’d gone into this with her eyes wide open. Hadn’t she?

  It was too late to back out now. They’d have the best damn wedding ever and Tyler would win an Oscar for the film role he desperately wanted. Everything was going to work out.

  A Hollywood ending…completely made up and not a bit real.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sweat poured down Tyler’s back as he ran along the trail in Coldwater Canyon Park. The weather was warm and dry, perfect for a good workout, and he pushed himself to run harder and faster. He wanted it to hurt, not just because he knew he was getting a good workout. No, he wanted it to hurt because he’d inadvertently hurt Billie and she was the last person in the world he wanted to do that to.

  He’d meant it when he said she was the only woman besides his mother that he trusted. That she’d been hurt by his carelessness was inexcusable. He hadn’t thought the pretty reporter’s actions were a big deal. Women came on to him all the time and he didn’t think much about it. Unless he was interested, which in this case he wasn’t. Her hand on his back hadn’t seemed important, but it had been important to Billie and that meant it was important to him. He could see her point. Even though he knew it was meaningless, other people – the reporter included – wouldn’t understand.

  Because the one thing he’d learned since becoming famous was that the people around him tended to make his every action about them, even when it couldn’t possibly be. They thought his smiles were for them specifically, that his thank you speeches were gratitude for something they had done. When he took selfies with them it was because he wanted to be closer to them, get to know them, become friends or more. There were many people in Hollywood who took credit for Tyler’s success but they weren’t anywhere to be found when blame needed to be doled out.

  But not Billie. Even when he was specifically thanking her for some wonderful kindness she didn’t make it about herself. That’s why he trusted her. She didn’t want anything from him. Well…except for fifty grand. She’d wanted that and the why was still bugging the hell out of him. He’d figure it out eventually. In the meantime, he had some groveling to do.

  Gasping for breath, he stopped and bent over, his hands on his knees. His lungs hurt and the sweat dripped into his eyes, but he was smiling at the pain. He was only halfway through his run but it had served its purpose. He had an idea of how to make things better with Billie.

  * * *

  Tyler wasn’t quite finished when he heard Billie’s footsteps in the hallway. It turned out both he and Billie had more clothes than he’d thought and with all the calls he’d received about the upcoming promo tour it had taken him longer than he’d planned to move them.

  “What are you doing?”

  Billie stood in the doorway of his bedroom. Frowning. Considering the bed was covered with her clothes he would have thought it was obvious.

  “Moving you in.”

  Wearing a casual track
suit over her yoga outfit, her hair was clipped up and her face was devoid of makeup. She must have come upstairs straight from class. Her eyes widened and she finally seemed to notice the stack of garments on the mattress.

  “Moving me in?” she repeated, giving him some serious stink eye. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

  He hung up a handful of her sundresses in the huge walk-in closet before answering.

  “When I went for my run I thought about what you were saying. How we might not be a real couple but people certainly are going to perceive us as one. I want you to know that you have my loyalty and I also want everyone else to know it. How could they possibly believe it if you were still living down in the guesthouse? We’re a couple now and I agree that we need to start acting like it. So I moved all my stuff into one of the spare rooms and I moved your things in here. I want you to feel like this is your home, Billie. I think it might go a long way toward making you feel like you can trust me. That you’re important.”

  Her mouth had fallen open and she didn’t seem to know how to answer so he decided to help her a little bit.

  “Are you still mad?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  A smile bloomed on her pretty face. “No.”

  “Do you wish you hadn’t agreed to help me?”

  Her gaze softened at his query. She was such a gentle touch but she tried to pretend she was tough.

  “No.”

  “I just want to make you happy, babe. I know that I don’t know shit about love and relationships but I’m trying.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “Did you really move out? That doesn’t make any sense, Tyler. Why didn’t you stay here and I could move into a guest room?”

  He’d thought about that briefly but it hadn’t seemed right. “I want you to feel like this is your home so putting you in a guest room wouldn’t solve that. You’re not a guest, you’re my fiancée.”

  “So now you’re the guest?”

  He shrugged. “I could sleep on concrete, you know that. It doesn’t matter to me. Besides, we already know that this is my home. Now we need to convince you that it’s yours too. What do you think? I’m separating your clothes by type. Slacks, blouses, dresses, formalwear but if you want I could do it by color or something.”

  Tentatively, as if there was a monster in the closet, she stepped closer and peered in. “Oh my God, you’re really organizing things. I don’t usually bother with that.”

  He’d noticed that when he retrieved her clothes. How she found anything he wasn’t sure. Because he had so many clothes for different occasions he had to be organized. A former assistant had set up his system so all he had to do was stick to it.

  “I think you’ll see this is easier. You’ll be able to find things much faster.”

  She pulled a face, laughter bubbling from her lips. “You can just say it. I’m a slob. I have no organizational skills whatsoever while your wardrobe is catalogued on index cards.”

  “I have many more clothes than you do, which by the way I left quite a bit here in the closet. I only moved the clothes that I wear a lot but there’s still plenty of room for your things, although that might not be the case six months from now. When that happens I’ll move all of my stuff out or we can take over one of the spare rooms and have a giant closet for two built.”

  Billie appeared dazed, which wasn’t her usual demeanor. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

  “Technically, I’m not done yet.”

  Her brows shot up and she groaned. “Wait one cotton pickin’ minute. Where is my underwear? Tyler Gaylord, did you run your grubby paws all over my panties? You pervert.”

  Closing his eyes, he laid his hand on his heart. “It was almost a religious experience. I swear angels sang in the distance and a white light shone brightly like a halo around your undergarments.”

  “That was your dead relatives warning you not to do it and that I’d kill you with one of your golf clubs.” She slugged him in the shoulder with one of her fists but not hard enough to really hurt. “I can’t believe you were up to your elbows in my lingerie drawer. Ick.”

  He managed – barely – not to remind her that in a few months he was going to be her husband and he’d have his grubby paws on more than just her panties. In the last few days he’d found that the idea of sharing a bed with Billie was something he was looking forward to.

  Like… a lot. He’d always been attracted to her, but of course he’d never acted on those feelings since they were buddies. But now it was different. He was supposed to want to have sex with her and that had freed a whole bunch of carnal feelings that he’d been keeping deeply buried. Way deep. Now, however, they’d popped up out of the ground like vampires or zombies.

  Tyler loved giving Billie a hard time and she always returned the favor but he was going to have to come clean. “As George Washington would say, I cannot tell a lie. I have all of your hanging clothes moved into this room plus all of your folded ones like shorts and t-shirts, but I saved your lingerie drawer for last. Your unmentionables remain untouched but mentioned. After I finished these I was going to make that one last run down to your house.”

  Blowing out a breath, she rolled her eyes. “You just saved your own life. I will do it myself.” She turned to walk out but paused. “You know this doesn’t solve anything, right? I mean, it helps and you were sweet to do it but the issue is still there.”

  She knew the truth as well as he did. “There are women who want me for all the wrong reasons but I don’t care about them.”

  Her chin lifted defiantly. “But you’ll sleep with them anyway. You’ll take what they offer.”

  “I took what they offered. Past tense. I slept with them, but you know that I never made any promises to them. They always knew it wasn’t serious for me. I never led any of them on. But I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it.”

  Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s still more complicated than this.”

  “Trust always is,” he agreed without hesitation. “It’s a start, though. I begged you to help me and you said yes. I won’t let you down. Just like I know you won’t let me down.”

  “I just wish–”

  She broke off, shaking her head.

  “You wish what?”

  “I wish,” she sighed. “That you understood that more is going to change than my last name. You’re taking this so casually as if everything is the same. It’s not the same, Tyler, and you don’t seem to see it. It’s hard to trust someone that is in deep denial. Our lives are changing right before our eyes and you’re pretending it isn’t happening.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. Sure, things were changing a little but it wasn’t the end of the world. The main part of their lives was staying the same.

  “You act like nothing will ever be the same. You say you don’t regret helping me but your actions don’t match your words, Billie. If you want out, just say it and stop acting this way. Hell, the world wouldn’t blame you for breaking off our engagement. They think I’m a pussy-hound who can’t be trusted with the female population so you dumping me will fit right into their narrative.”

  He could hear the tabloids sharpening their knives. They’d like nothing more than for him to be humiliated and shamed.

  “I don’t want to dump you, I just want you to understand that things are going to change. People are going to treat us differently. We might even treat each other differently.”

  He threw up his hands in surrender. “If I admit that you’re right can we move forward? Billie, I want us to be happy but you have to meet me halfway. I’ll stop looking at everything as perfect if you stop trying to only see all the pitfalls.”

  Her expression softened and she turned to look into the closet again. “You did a nice job organizing this.”

  “I’m not done yet. Why don’t you get the rest of your clothes and we’ll finish this together? Then I’ll take you out to dinner.”<
br />
  From the smile on her face she wasn’t going to say no. “We’ll end up on Instagram.”

  That was pretty much a given these days.

  “Fuck ’em. Let’s just live our life and not worry about what other people are thinking or doing.”

  A novel concept in image conscious Hollywood. Dealing with people’s perceptions of him was a full-time job, one he was happy to let Garrett do. Tyler just wanted to work and be happy. He wasn’t all that concerned about whether some nameless, faceless person reading a tabloid rag somewhere approved of who he was marrying or what he was wearing. He’d seen other actors who did and it only served to make them crazy and burned out.

  “I want a cheeseburger. And fries. And cheese on my fries.”

  Food wise, they really were a bad influence on each other.

  “And a hot fudge sundae,” Tyler said, wrapping his arm around Billie and leading her to the bedroom doorway. “Now go on and get the rest of your clothes so we can go eat. Now I have a craving for chili cheese fries.”

  Watching her retreating figure, Tyler heaved a sigh of relief. He’d headed this small crisis off at the pass but he had a bad feeling that this was simply a battle and not the war. There would be more and he only hoped he’d figure out how to handle his soon-to-be wife. He needed her…more than she needed him. Making her happy meant that she wouldn’t back out of their deal, but even more she deserved to be happy. She’d always been there for him and he was determined to be the same.

  First on the list had been moving her in. Second? A boost to her lagging acting career. She’d kick up a fuss and tell him she didn’t want the help but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Tyler was going to give Billie her dream. He’d make her a star.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tyler gulped down a glass of orange juice as his publicist droned on and on about the upcoming movie promo tour. He and Garrett were meeting this morning out on the patio and he wasn’t sure what the point of this was, to be honest. He’d done a myriad of these events and they were pretty much all the same.