A Taste of Pink (Shades Book 4)

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  He was quiet for a breath, and then, leveling his gaze on mine, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and said softly, “That’s not true. There was a moment we were both on the same page.”

  I knew which moment he meant. The one that would forever haunt me, that would wrench and tear at my insides, and break my heart over and over, because it had been perfect and beautiful and the brink of something I didn’t even have words for, like the view at sunrise from the peak of a mountain that you get so close to, but don’t quite make it. You have to turn around and go back without ever seeing it, but you know it would have been breathtaking.

  That’s what it felt like. The disappointment was crushing. Worse than any role I hadn’t gotten. I could take being turned down for a part. I couldn’t take being crushed by James again.

  “You going to book a flight home now?” I changed the subject.

  “Can’t do that,” he answered gruffly.

  “Yes, you can.”

  “Fine, I won’t.” He stood and moved toward the door, clearly done with this conversation. Or almost done. He paused and looked at me. “Pretty boy might play a super-hero, but this isn’t a movie where he’s going to be able to save the day just because he’s dreamy.” There was a lot of sarcasm in that last part as he disappeared inside.

  “He’s also ripped!” I shouted after him. “Don’t forget that. He has a six pack. He can look out for me just fine.” I stewed in my irritation a moment, thinking of more clever comebacks and retorts I wished had come to me in the moment.

  Shouting out front made me jump out of the swing and run around the side of the house, only to come up short and nearly double over with laughter when I saw the cause of the ruckus. Hunter was running terrified through the yard, Rocky the rooster hot on his heels. I instantly regretted that in my haste I’d left my phone and any chance of getting this on video sitting on the swing.

  “What do I do?” Hunter cried when he spotted me, changing directions and making a beeline to where I stood.

  I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to tell him to stop running, although, at this point it was probably too late. He’d already let Rocky establish dominance.

  James appeared at my side. “You were saying?”

  I glanced up at him, with his cocked brow and smug grin. He didn’t let me say anything before he strutted into the fray to face off with a testy rooster. Hunter and Rocky were almost to us, but when Rocky spotted James he slowed his charge. He let James walk right up to him, scoop him up, and nestle him in the crook of his arm.

  Hunter was breathing heavy and bent over when he stopped in front of me. I would have laughed some more but at that moment James pivoted around with a smirk, and, walking backwards toward the chicken house, lifted the hem of his shirt up over his stomach, flashing the perfect set of abdominal muscles. Then he set Rocky down and held up eight fingers.

  Yeah, I could count, even from here I could see all eight ridges that went all the way up to his chest. Smug bastard. He dropped his shirt back down and turned and continued walking to wherever he was going.

  Hunter saw none of it, as he was still bent over, recovering from his near-death experience. “That animal is the devil. I looked into his eyes and I saw death.”

  I snorted and spun around. “Come on, you big chicken,” I snickered at my own quip. “He can’t get you in the house.”

  “That’s not funny,” he huffed after me. “I don’t know why we call people chickens. That thing had no fear.”

  With a laugh, I took Hunter to the kitchen and we fixed lunch. Eventually James came in with Rick and Joey and they used the fixings I’d left out to make themselves sandwiches. James and I shared a few brief glances, but he was caught up laughing and carrying on with the other two, over some incident that happened while they were exercising the horses. After they’d eaten, James went right back out with the guys and left me with Hunter.

  I stared after them out the kitchen window, begrudging James that he’d so effortlessly inserted himself into life around here, like he’d been here forever.

  “So, it’s like that, huh?” Hunter snapped my attention to him.

  “What?”

  He stood and dumped his plate in the sink. “There’s so much tension between you two, it’s like nobody else exists when you’re around each other.”

  I shook my head. “You’re wrong. Things are just . . . well I don’t know what they are because we can’t have a rational discussion about anything without it turning into a fight. Also, he’s decided that no matter what I say, he’s staying on this job until Warren Baker is caught.”

  “Right,” he said with an amused smile. “You mean he’s staying on this job because you want him to.”

  “What? No. I fired him. Like twice.”

  “But did you really mean it? Because we both know if you really wanted him gone, he would be. Admit it. You like that he won’t leave you.”

  I clamped my jaw shut and glared.

  Hunter was unaffected. He simply chuckled. “Yeah, this is going to be fun. I’ve clearly got my work cut out for me, but I don’t mind a challenge. May the best man win, and when I say the best man, I obviously mean myself.” He dropped a quick kiss on my cheek and then shuffled off to the living room. I heard the TV kick on a second later.

  Yup, this was going to be real fun.

  Come the following morning, Dad was more than a little surprised to arrive home from the station and find me and Hunter in the kitchen. He stopped, dropping his small duffel on the counter, and sized Hunter up. “Who’s this one?”

  I knew damned well my Dad knew who he was. There was no way he could have lived in a house with me during my teenage years and not know who Hunter Foxx was, not to mention I knew that Dad watched every interview I did, which would include the ones with Hunter.

  “Dad, Hunter. Hunter, my dad, Eric.”

  They did the manly handshake thing, and then Dad turned to me. “Where’s James?”

  I shrugged uncaringly. “I assume out working with Rick and Joey. He was up before me.”

  “Alright then, I suppose I should have some breakfast and get to work myself.”

  “Dad, you just got off work, a little rest might be good first.”

  He waved a hand through the air dismissing my concerns as he sauntered to the fridge. “It was a quiet couple days at the station, I got plenty of sleep.”

  “At least sit down and let me fix your breakfast.” I took the carton of eggs right out of his hand, shooing him away. “Unfortunately, we have to take off this afternoon, so I’d at least like to spend this morning with you.”

  Dad frowned. “I thought you’d stay longer.”

  “So did I, but you were right, I can’t put things off forever.”

  Dad was disappointed, but like always, understanding. We had breakfast together, and Hunter even tried to engage him in conversation, but Dad was a little reticent toward him. The way he kept glancing between me and Hunter, and then the three of us when James strode in from outside, sweaty and a bit disheveled—which was not a bad look on him—I wasn’t at all surprised when Dad caught me alone later to interrogate me.

  “Seems I missed a lot while I was gone. Want to explain what the Foxx fella is doing here, and why James watches him in a way that makes me think I need to hide the steak knives?”

  “You know my relationship with James was never real, right?” And James wouldn’t need a steak knife to kill him.

  “Uh, huh, sure,” he replied, the skepticism in his voice heavy.

  “It wasn’t, and neither is this thing with Hunter. He’s just a friend who’s going to help me out with this whole mess. It’s not a big deal, no different than a publicity stunt before the big premiere,” I explained, but even I knew it sounded like I was rationalizing.

  I’d learned to read my dad well enough to know he didn’t approve but was trying to keep his opinion to himself. “Just be careful that you don’t forget what’s real and what isn’t. Or lose som
ething real to something that isn’t.”

  “Look Dad, I know you love James—you and Mack and Rick, and everyone else in this state—but you can’t keep him.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that the reason all the people who care about you like the guy is because we can see how he feels about you?”

  Well . . . no.

  Twenty

  Riley

  Luis, Angela, Jayne, and Hunter’s agent and publicist greeted us as a united front when we landed in L.A. The moment I climbed from the jet and saw them all, my stomach dropped, and I experienced a moment of regret. The quiet little voice in my mind asked, What did you get yourself into?

  Oddly enough, it was James’ presence at my back, and not Hunter beside me that gave me the internal push I needed to put one foot in front of the other and meet them with confidence.

  Jayne was the only one to offer a smile, hesitant but still a smile. I didn’t have time for her though, not when Hunter’s team ushered him one direction, and I was pulled another, into a waiting car that would take me to the first of a handful of interviews scheduled over the next week.

  “Be vulnerable but poised. We want to evoke sympathy, but we don’t want it to look like you’re after it.”

  “And when Hunter’s name comes up, be vague and coy.”

  “Don’t deny, but don’t confirm.”

  “Let them make assumptions, and let your expressions do the talking. Smile any time he’s mentioned and tell them how supportive he’s been through these trying times.”

  Angela and Luis continued on like that the entire ride. A sudden sense of claustrophobia enveloped me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and would have given anything to be back in Montana. The city flashing by, the city that I loved, that I had enjoyed and explored the last eight years, the city where I built my dreams, felt strange and unfamiliar. And unforgiving.

  Who was Riley James now, and who would I be when this was all over?

  I looked to Jayne who sat across from me. Another tentative smile graced her features, but I couldn’t return it. I didn’t know what to make of it. If she was sorry, or just trying to hold on to her job.

  I stole a glance at James beside her. We’d hardly spoken since Montana, and that silence weighed more heavily on me than it should have. The closer we’d gotten to California, the moodier he’d become. He was just a few feet from me, yet a million miles away. The distance was there between us every time our eyes met. The Grand Canyon of awkwardness.

  I wondered if he would hate me by the time this was over.

  And then we’d be right back where we started. I supposed it would be sort of fitting. He came to California despising me, he may as well leave feeling the same way.

  But I should have known, life rarely played out how I expected, and no one, not even Angela and her ability to foresee and predict outcomes could have known what was going to happen.

  I made it through the interview with my tiny entourage waiting in the wings, both Luis and Angela pleased as punch that it had gone exactly as scripted. By that evening, when we were all out to dinner with Hunter and his team, the interview hit the web and was shared all over. Article after article popped up. The story of my stalker spread, but the hotter topic was the “Are they, or aren’t they?” romance between me and Hunter.

  At first, Angela and Hunter’s publicist, Stacy, were thrilled, because it seemed that most of the internet—and so the world—was siding with me and Hunter, while Mila and Derrick were taking hits left and right. It all seemed to be going perfectly, much to James’ irritation if his grim countenance at dinner was any indication, but that all changed in less than twenty-four hours.

  I woke, back in my own bed, in my house, the next morning and didn’t know what to expect when I checked my phone and found a single text from Jayne, amongst the ones from Luis, Angela, and Hunter, that simply had a link. Warily I sat up in bed and clicked it. The webpage opened, and my eyes quickly scanned.

  My jaw fell open the further I scrolled. When I reached the comments section, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Ignoring the fact that I was still unsure of where Jayne and I stood, I punched the call button beside her name, put it on speaker and continued to read while I waited for her to answer.

  “You read it?” were her first words.

  “How did this happen?”

  “I guess you did too god of a job the first time around.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice. “Luis and Angela are in a tizzy, completely baffled about what to do.” They weren’t the only ones.

  It seemed there was a new great divide in the world. Bigger than Edward vs. Jacob, bigger than Miley vs. Selena, bigger than Jennifer vs. Angelina. Possibly bigger than Trump vs. Hillary, or maybe that was me blowing this thing up to epic proportions because I couldn’t believe that it was my love life taking the internet by storm and that there were two new teams, and people were choosing.

  Team Hunter.

  Team James.

  Didn’t matter that I’d admitted in the interview that my relationship with James wasn’t real, there was a large number of people who didn’t believe it, if the comments and the trending social media posts were anything to go by.

  Stephaniejeanmc: “You can’t tell me that’s not real! #TeamJames”

  That captioned a picture of “the kiss.” The one outside the hotel.

  Bree: “Noooooo! Riley and James made me believe in real life love stories. #TeamJames”

  That one was in reaction to the news that my relationship with James was for the cameras only.

  TipsyTina: “They’re so perfect for each other. #TeamHunter”

  “This is crazy,” I muttered.

  “Your social media accounts have been blowing up all morning. You guys are trending damned near everywhere, and the drama with Mila and Derrick is blowing over, just not in the way Angela expected.”

  “Well, this is her fault. She’s the one who said everyone would love James and root for us. Turns out she was really, really right.”

  Jayne chuckled, “Don’t kid yourself. They rooted for you because it was obvious to the whole world you really were in love. I’m not sure even you’re good enough to convince them otherwise. That’s why this thing with you and Hunter doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “We’ll see,” I said, but after we hung up and I continued reading, it quickly became apparent that Jayne was right.

  @phoenixamsoy: “If they weren’t real, is anything real? Ready to give up on love. Hunter is gorgeous but come to your senses Riley. #TeamJames”

  Jessismiles90 was of a similar opinion.

  Jessismiles90: “That kind of chemistry can’t be faked. I don’t care how good of an actress she is. #TeamJames”

  It was another caption, this one a candid shot of me walking hand in hand with James, laughing at something he was saying and looking at him like he was all my dreams come true. I remembered that moment. I remembered what he’d said to make me laugh and how goosebumps had covered my arms the instant he’d connected our hands. There was even a meme of that shot. Jessismiles90 was right. None of it was fake. But it had to be.

  Leslie: “About time. I’ve thought these too would be cute together for soooo long. Can’t wait for #RedRedRosethefilm #TeamHunter”

  Marie: “I say, have them both. Yum #TeamHunterandJames”

  Sweet mercy, that would never work.

  Stacy: “Just this. #TeamJames”

  Above Stacy’s post was a candid shot I’d never seen before, but I knew was taken in Sydney. Someone caught us on the beach (not our late-night dip.) I was staring out at the water with a huge grin on my face, my hand tucked in James’ and he was staring at me. I’ll admit the seemingly reverent look on his face almost had me fooled too, but I knew pictures could indeed lie. There was no way he felt what that picture implied he felt. Text had been added that read, “I just want someone to look at me the way James looks at Riley.”

  On and on they went. The more comments
and posts I looked at, the more surprised I became. Team James was winning. The rest of the world had fallen in love with him right along with me.

  My next call was to Hunter. I didn’t think he was going to pick up after it rang and rang, but at the last second his voice came through. “Hey, sorry, I was on the line with our people for a lovely problem solving sesh that you can be thankful you aren’t having to be a part of.”

  “A problem, that’s what we’re calling it?”

  “Your fans, and half the rest of the world prefer Captain America to me. Yeah, it’s a problem,” he grunted.

  “Don’t pout,” I snickered. “And why wasn’t I included in the call?”

  “Would you have anything constructive to say?”

  “Only that I told you guys this was a stupid idea that was going to blow up in everyone’s faces.”

  “Aaaand that’s why nobody called you.”

  “Whatever,” I huffed. “Maybe we should stop playing games and trying to manipulate the story and let it all fizzle out.”

  “Or, we try harder. Have dinner with me tonight.”

  Even though he couldn’t see it, I rolled my eyes. “You think that’s the solution?”

  “No. I think that I want to have dinner with you tonight before the party.”

  “Fine. What time and where?”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven, just look sexy and let me worry about everything else.”

  “You know Captain America won’t let me out of the house without him.”

  I heard his annoyed sigh. “Not even just to go to dinner with me?”

  “Especially not to go to dinner with you.”

  “A table for three it is, then.”

  “No. That would be way too awkward. He can sit at the bar or another table.”

  “Even better.” I swore I could hear his evil smirk. “I’ll take care of reservations. See you at seven.”

  “See you then.” I started to disconnect the call, but Hunter stopped me.

  “Oh, and Riley, just out of personal curiosity, which team are you on?”

  With a snort I told him, “I’m on hashtag team Riley don’t need a man.”