Cupid to the Rescue: A Tail-Wagging Valentine's Day Anthology

by Lisa Mondello

  "You sound surprised."

  She couldn't stop the smile from forming. "I guess I expected something less homey."

  And homey was an apt description. The house had four gorgeously appointed bedrooms, each with its own equally decadent bath with either a deep tub or massive shower or both. During the quick tour, she'd noted his penchant for massive shower heads in the ceilings, and she found herself wishing she could forego the hotel stay and sleep here just to experience one of those showers firsthand.

  Well, and to be closer to Oliver. She didn't like the idea of being so far away from him in a strange city with people—the women especially—circling like sharks.

  But realistically she knew, for her family's sake, her brand's sake, and the morals that convicted her, that Oliver was right. She might not be a world-famous star, but she had built a certain following, and that following expected her to adhere to the standards she'd created for herself in the last eight years. She had to set an example rather than talk about it to her clients and readers.

  "Ready to see the rest?" he asked.

  The kitchen and living room of Oliver's home were just as inviting and beautiful, the colors masculine with its gray walls, black cabinets, and sleek gray and white countertops with a waterfall island. Overall the look was clean and uncluttered. Perfect for a busy bachelor.

  "When I got to the point I could buy something, the only thing I could think of was that I wanted a sanctuary. Someplace I could truly relax and get away from the crazy. I found the cheapest house in the nicest neighborhood and made it a project."

  She blinked at his words. "You mean you remodeled and decorated it and stuff?"

  "I had help, trust me. But, yeah. I wanted it to be the home I never had and always wanted. And once I'm inside and those doors close, no one can see me unless I want them to."

  He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her lips.

  "You hungry?"

  "Hmm," she said, wrinkling her nose. "If I'm going to the premier, I shouldn't eat. That dress fit like a glove."

  He kissed her again and lingered.

  "I can't wait to see it. Though it feels a bit like I'm taking you to prom. Did I ever tell you how jealous I got the night of your senior prom when that guy… What was his name?"

  "Uh, Peter?"

  "Yeah, Peeping Peter."

  "What? Why did you call him that?"

  "Because we caught him and one of his buddies spying on you the following day when you were in the pool. I don't know which one of us was angrier, me or Mac."

  "Wait, I thought you hit him because he'd started that rumor about me?"

  "What rumor?"

  She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "The rumor immature teenage boys start about girls and prom."

  "I'm gonna have to look Peter up again," Oliver said, his expression darkening.

  "Stop it. I can't believe I didn't realize all these years. I thought the punch was for that. He was such a creep. Who hit him? Tell me."

  "Mac. I wound up having to play peacemaker, which did not make me happy."

  "Does it make you feel any better that he got teased unmercifully for wearing makeup to school that Monday for pictures?"

  "Hmm. Some. And that reminds me, hair and makeup will be here tomorrow at two."

  Hair and makeup? "Is that… necessary?" Oliver was pulling out all the stops, but was it so she fit the required image Oliver apparently had to maintain or as part of her Valentine's Day treat? "I mean, thank you, but you've done too much already. I can do my own."

  "Uh-huh. They'll be here at two, right after lunch and a couples massage."

  A laugh bubbled up out of her chest. "Oliver— Ollie," she corrected immediately when she saw him open his mouth to protest. "I love the gifts, don't get me wrong, but I know how careful you are with money. I've… heard things from Mac and from you over the years. It's not that I'm not grateful, it's just… you've spoiled me so much already today. The gown and accessories and the after-party clothes."

  "Marsali, I've waited a long time for this. For you, us. I know it's a lot coming at you all at once, but can you just enjoy the pampering? Because I'm being honest when I tell you I'm enjoying being able to do it for you."

  Oh, wow. When he put it that way… "Really?"

  "Yes, really."

  She inhaled, still torn because, while she loved the romantic aspects of all he offered, she worried about…

  What? That you'll like it too much?

  She managed to hold in a groan. Because realistically that was true. She liked the pampering and gifts. Loved the idea of a couples massage and the fact Oliver had seemed to enjoy watching her reactions as she'd tried on the different outfits because he knew it was fun for her. Different.

  So focus on the moment. Enjoy the moment.

  That's all she had to do, right?

  "I was thinking after all the travel and shopping today, we might have a quiet dinner here. Is that okay?"

  She squeezed him tighter and reveled in the feel of his strength. "Oh, yes. I was hoping for some quiet, to be honest. I never knew shopping could be so exhausting. I might go jump in that hot tub and not come out."

  He laughed and snuggled her closer. "Then do that while I crank up the grill. Steak sound good? Maybe some fresh veggies?"

  "Perfect. But I'll help you."

  "No. I'd much rather see you in that hot tub."

  "My suit is at the hotel, and no, I'm not skinny-dipping."

  He looked heartbroken at her comment before grinning at her once more. "There are multiple suits in the pool house. Help yourself."

  "You… keep women's bathing suits on hand?"

  "I do when it keeps them from using it as an excuse to skinny-dip." He shook his head and made a disgruntled face. "It's for my protection," he said. "I have men’s and women’s suits at all times after one of Rikki's ideas to schmooze some of the producers and directors and moneymen wound up becoming something I can't unsee to this day."

  She couldn't imagine having her home overtaken like that. The level of disrespect and… "You were okay with that?"

  "No. I actually left and came back the next day. Rikki knows to not plan anything here now, but I still keep suits on hand just in case. I use the pool house mostly as an office now."

  Okay, then.

  "Marsali, I probably shouldn't have told you that story, because I can see how you're looking at me now, but that life is not me. Never has been. I've dated, I've had fun, yes, but I don't go for that type of party. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

  She nodded, relief pouring through her. She'd be so disappointed in him if he had.

  "So go help yourself to a suit. They're in the dresser drawers in the bedroom. I'll turn on some music and get the grill going, and let's have a nice night just the two of us. Okay?"

  "Sounds perfect."

  Oliver released her only to stop her and tug her close to kiss again, lingering until she finally pulled away and shooed him toward the grill.

  She made her way to the pool house and entered, thinking about how far Oliver had come in his life. From foster kid to college hunk to movie star.

  Marsali changed into the most modest two-piece she could find, which, by Hollywood's standards, wasn't all that modest. For her own sake, she added a cover-up and told herself it was because she would be cold. That done, she piled her hair atop her head in a messy bun and found a towel before checking her appearance one last time.

  She moved through the small pool house, taking in more of the details. It really was lovely. Simple. It also had a small kitchen the size of hers back in North Carolina, an eating area with couch and chairs for relaxing in front of a very large television. The bathroom she'd used was attached to a bedroom on one side of the house and on the other side… Oliver's office.

  Still, all this room for just one person?

  She moved toward the office, and the pictures atop the mantel drew her.

  Oliver stood outside at the grill, and she used the opportunity
for what it was, a chance to get to know the Hollywood version of him. There were stacks of scripts on a desk, some flagged for him to read right away. There were also stacks of papers, a calendar that looked very full, books on… directing and producing. Oliver wanted to do that? Was interested in the behind-the-scenes stuff?

  Apparently so.

  She moved on to the shelf across the room and found more books on a wide variety of subjects relating to life in Hollywood. There were also books on business and money management, with a few of her favorites from Dave Ramsey and Chris Hogan.

  But photos lined the shelf above the books, and she caught her breath when she recognized the faces that stared back at Oliver whenever he was in this room.

  The first photo was of him and Mac, arms draped over each other's shoulders as they smiled at the camera on graduation day. Only weeks before, Oliver had been contacted by the modeling company and offered an insane amount of money to sign with them.

  She realized now what a lure that must have been a to a kid who'd grown up with nothing. And just how tempting it must have been to take the money and walk away from his business major. Not Oliver, though. He'd stuck it out, graduated with honors. Then went for the money.

  The next photo was of her family. She cringed at the image of her with her crazy curls and braces but found it sweet that he'd had it framed. That photo had been taken at Easter after church. Oliver had attended with them.

  The last…

  She gasped. Marsali's hand trembled as she reached out and took the photo in hand. It was the one taken at her parents' anniversary party. The one where she smiled up at him like a lovesick—

  "There you are."

  She turned to find Oliver standing in the doorway, watching her. His gaze dropped to the frame in her hand.

  "That is one of my favorites."

  "You framed it?"

  "I did."

  "But we weren't…"

  He shoved himself off of the wood and ambled toward her with lazy steps.

  "No, we weren't."

  He stared at her a long moment before tilting his head toward the door.

  "Dinner will be ready soon."

  Dinner. A quiet evening at home. A hot tub. Her heart pounded in her chest.

  Her feelings for Oliver grew with every moment, but she wasn't prepared for whatever came next. Did Oliver expect this trip to be more?

  Did… she?

  DINNER WAS DELICIOUS, the wine the best he could find in his collection. The view of Marsali in his hot tub—

  Yeah, he needed to make that a normal occurrence. Figure out a way to convince her Hollywood wasn't as bad as she seemed to think and maybe she should consider moving her business to a more lucrative side of the country.

  But how?

  He was ready and willing to walk her to the altar right now, but he had a feeling she'd run in the opposite direction due to the speed. Especially the way she'd eyed him when he'd joined her in the hot tub.

  But the sight of her in that bathing suit… He'd thought his head might explode, and he thanked God that no one else was around to see her like that except for him. The beautiful image was now imprinted in his head for all eternity.

  Three hours later, Oliver walked Marsali to her hotel room, wishing all the while she could've stayed under the same roof. Maybe it was best Rikki had set it up this way, though, because the more time he spent with her, the more willing he was to forego common sense and just let things play out however they would. It was nobody's business what they did or didn't do. Right?

  But protecting Marsali from that kind of press had to be a priority. There were women… and then there were women like Marsali, who made the effort of courtship worth all the fuss. She was one in a million and he didn't want to screw it up.

  He felt the tension in her grow as they walked toward her room. They'd talked in the tub, shared some kisses and cuddles, but when things had started to heat up, she'd pulled away. And he understood why.

  Marsali believed in what she wrote, and he believed in her. He was willing to sacrifice his desires for her well-being. Their well-being. Especially when it could mean a future together. One that would last because it was born in friendship and respect.

  He caught her arm just before they got to her door and tugged her toward him.

  "Ollie…"

  He kissed her quiet, lingering over the contact. "I had fun today. I hope you did, too."

  "I did. So much. Thank you."

  "You're welcome. Good night, Marsali."

  She blinked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. A low laugh left his chest. "You're worth the wait, sweetheart. Besides, tomorrow is going to be a longer day than today, and once the premiere is behind us, I plan on showing you around. You need to sleep while you can."

  She hesitated a long moment, just staring at him, then rose to her tiptoes with her hand against his chest for balance and kissed him again, this kiss longer and sweeter and full of the promise of more.

  "Thank you for understanding me."

  He kissed her again, unable to leave her just yet. "Marsali?" he said softly once the kiss had ended and she'd twisted the knob to enter her room.

  "What?"

  "That doesn't mean I won't be dreaming about us."

  Color rushed to her cheeks and Oliver chuckled as he turned away.

  The Matchmaker’s Secret: Chapter 15

  Marsali opened her heavy-lidded eyes the next morning and stared across at Oliver, facedown on the massage table next to her.

  The day had started off with breakfast at the hotel before he'd whisked her off in the limo back to his house, where she'd met his agent, Rikki. The woman had looked Marsali up and down during the introduction, and once again, Marsali felt as though she'd come up lacking in the girlfriend department.

  Would that ever change? Granted, she knew perceptions of movie stars were skewed all over the spectrum, but she wasn't chopped liver. She had a successful business, had written a bestselling book. Yeah, not chopped liver!

  Oliver's agent had pinned a smile on her very plumped lips and asked to speak to Oliver in private.

  She wasn't sure what Rikki had discussed with Oliver, but an hour later, Rikki was somewhere in the house while she and Oliver enjoyed fabulous massages that made Marsali aware of every nerve ending in her body.

  "Relax, miss. Today is a fun day, no?" the masseuse said to her in a thick German accent.

  The woman's question caused Oliver to lift his head from the rest, and Marsali managed to smile at him. "Yes, it's a fun day. I'm just nervous."

  Because anyone in their right mind would be. Especially someone like her. All eyes would be on Oliver, and the thought of standing at his side was, well, daunting.

  "It's going to be fun," Oliver said from the bed across from her. "Stop worrying."

  "Did, um, Rikki say anything about you bringing me tonight?"

  Had she not been watching him, she wouldn't have noticed the way he tensed at the question.

  "She mentioned it."

  Really? That was it? All he was going to say? "She'd rather you took someone else."

  Oliver shifted on the bed and the masseuse immediately took a step back as Oliver rose to sit on the table facing her.

  "Why are you worrying about this stuff, Marsali?"

  This stuff? "It's…" She glanced at his masseuse and wondered how much she should say in front of them. "I know I'm the outsider here."

  "No, you're not. Not when you're going with me. Got it?"

  She nodded and had to close her eyes and hold her breath when her masseuse ran her knuckles from her shoulders up her neck to her ears and pressed.

  "Mmm," Oliver murmured. "The look on your face."

  She opened her eyes in time to see him brace his hands on the side of the table over the sheet, trapping her arms beneath, and bend to capture her lips, ignoring the women in the room.

  The kiss didn't last long, but Marsali's face flooded with heat when he lifted his head and stared into h
er eyes. The look he gave her… Her toes curled and she struggled to take a normal breath.

  "I'm going to go shower. Don't forget makeup and hair will be here in forty-five minutes or so."

  Once Oliver had left the room, Marsali's massage person did a few more strokes to try to release the tension now back in her shoulders.

  "All done, miss. Sit up slowly in case you're light-headed."

  Marsali laughed. Light-headed? Oh, yeah, she was, but it had nothing to do with the massage and everything to do with Oliver Beck.

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Marsali sat in the chair, facing away from the mirror, and wondered if the torture was ever going to end. Was she that much of a mess?

  Once dried, her hair had been loosely pulled back from her face into a neat, low chignon that showcased her curls without giving them free rein. The look was soft and sexy, and one she'd have to try to mimic in the future.

  The makeup artist had gone next, and after so much time in the chair, Marsali was anxious to see the results.

  Finally the woman deemed her finished and slowly twisted the chair around to face the mirror. Marsali blinked, unsure of who stared back at her. Her eyes were huge, dark, and smoky. Her lips full and pouty. Her skin smooth and perfect to the point she was afraid to smile for fear of cracking the facade caked on her face.

  A soft knock sounded on the door.

  "Perfect timing," the makeup artist, Dianne, said. "Come in."

  Oliver entered and stopped in his tracks. Marsali met his gaze in the mirror and waited for his reaction. "What… do you think?" she asked after the long pause.

  Oliver glanced at the makeup artist, who also waited expectantly before meeting Marsali's gaze once more. "You look beautiful but…"

  But?

  "It's not you."

  Marsali wasn't sure who gasped the loudest, her or Dianne. "You don't like it?"

  Oliver stalked toward them and knelt on the floor in front of Marsali.

  "Mr. Beck, Rikki was quite clear in her instructions to—"

  "Rikki doesn't get to dictate Marsali's makeup," Oliver said.

  He glanced at the makeup artist and then the cart she'd wheeled in with her when she'd arrived. Oliver grabbed a box from the bottom and flipped the lid, earning another gasp from the woman.