Your Endless Love

by Layla Hagen

  “Summer is a dear friend. Always welcome to my bungalow.”

  “My apologies, Mr. Westbrook, Ms. Bennett. I thought I didn’t... I’ll just leave now.” Stuttering, she says goodbye and takes off. Summer sighs but doesn’t pull away from me.

  “Thank you. That show went on for ten minutes. I was running out of steam.”

  “Looked to me like you had plenty of steam left.”

  I dip my gaze, inspecting the front too. The dress isn’t very low cut, so I can just see the tops of her breasts, but it’s enough to stir my fantasy again. When Summer clears her throat, I snap my gaze up. She cocks a brow, but her tongue darts out, wetting her lower lip. Then she steps out from under my arm, as if just now realizing we were entangled in a half embrace. She plucks her purse from the bench under the window.

  Unlocking the door, I push it open.

  “Color me impressed, this place is huge.”

  “Well, it’s their best room.” Summer steps in behind me, glancing around. “It’s the only bungalow with just one room, and I thought you’d appreciate the lack of neighbors. All others have between two and five rooms.”

  “I do appreciate the privacy. Very thoughtful of you. Thanks.”

  She smiles, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers. “Anyway, I told them to instruct the staff not to let strangers in your room under any pretext—you know, in case any real groupies or stalkers show up. I figured that might happen, what with your face appearing in most tabloids.”

  “It’s not out of the realm of possibility. I can’t wait for that premiere to be over. The press attention is getting out of control.”

  “Well, as you can see, my plan backfired quickly.”

  “Why were you trying to get in my room?”

  “Guess.” She tilts her head, smiling. Her sass eggs me on. I step closer until I can smell her perfume. A delicious floral combo that makes me want to lick each morsel of her skin. I’d start with her mouth, make my way down her neck, then lower to her breasts.

  Almost unconsciously, I dip my gaze to her cleavage, and fuck me. Her nipples press against the fabric of her dress. I imagine they’re hard as pebbles, begging for a lick.

  Summer clears her throat again, opening her purse and taking out a small brochure before I have a chance to join in on her guessing game, as if she’s afraid of my answer. Good. She should be.

  “I printed out the schedule of the lessons. I know we all have it electronically, but it’s nice to have it printed out.”

  “It is! I’m a big fan of print. I read all my scripts printed out.”

  “Aww, you tree killer.”

  I point to the schedule she places on the table. “Pot, kettle. Thank you for getting me this bungalow. And for placing rules to keep unwanted guests out. You seem to have experience with this kind of things.”

  “My family has had a fair share of run-ins with the press. Bennett Enterprises has brought us a lot of attention.”

  I believe that considering half of Hollywood wears their jewelry, and there have been enough articles written about the company.

  “I’ll leave you to settle in. The others will arrive in a few hours,” she says.

  “I don’t need to settle in. Do you want to grab lunch?”

  She pats her stomach, quirking her lips. “Okay. D’you want to go to the main restaurant? It’ll be full of people, though. For the rest of the meals, I’ve asked them to set us all up in a separate room at the back of the restaurant. We’re a large enough group to warrant the effort. But since it’s just the two of us now... we could order room service. Eat it here on the deck?

  Ooh, or we could spread a towel right in front of the water.”

  “Room service it is.” I don’t want the attention in the restaurant, and I want Summer to myself for a while longer.

  Ten minutes later, we’re sitting on the grass, a towel spread out in front of us. I ordered a burger and fries from the menu, Summer a burrito with avocado dip.

  “Why are you in charge of the schedule?” I ask.

  “I organized the camp. Thought the kids could do with a change of scenery.”

  “Who’s paying for the gig?” I paid my own room, but a two-weeks stay in a four-star resort for so many people amounts to a pretty sum.

  “I am. I mean, the money I donate isn’t mine technically. Sebastian gave all of us siblings shares in Bennett Enterprises. But I don’t need the money, so....”

  She shrugs, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her downplay it. This is incredible. She is incredible.

  “I haven’t seen you on the list of donors,” I say.

  “Like you, I don’t want to make a fuss out of it.”

  Ah, a woman after my own heart. In Hollywood circles, donations are mostly a form of PR. I shift closer to her, touching her arm, resting my hand on her shoulder. Summer expels a sharp breath, her skin breaking out in goose bumps where I touch her. Her reaction to me is intoxicating. But when our gazes lock, I know that this thing between us runs deeper. I feel wired to her, and I don’t want to break this connection, even if it would be the smart thing to do. I can’t pull Summer into my messy life.

  I move even closer to her until our hips are touching. We’re half turned to one another, and I cup one of her cheeks, tilting her head up.

  “You’re doing a very good thing, Summer. Be proud of it.”

  “I am.”

  Nodding, she looks away, stretching her legs, kicking off her sandals. “I think I’ll book myself a foot massage.”

  She has a ring on her left middle toe, and it looks sexy as fuck. I eye her ankles, remembering how she reacted when I held them during our stunt exercise at St. Anne’s.

  I make a move to grab one foot to give her a head start on that massage, but Summer shifts at the same time, and I grip her thigh instead. My cock stirs in my boxers. Summer lets out a low sound, almost like a moan. She snaps her gaze from the point of contact up to my lips. It takes a superhuman effort not to move my hand further under her dress, to touch and explore her smooth skin. Even though it’s the last thing I want, I pry my fingers away.

  Summer’s cheeks turn pink. “Well, I have to go prepare a few things until the group arrives. Thank you for lunch.”

  She makes a motion to push herself up. I’m quicker, rising to my feet, then taking her hand and pulling her up too. “You’re welcome.”

  “What stunts are you planning to show the kids? Are they safe?”

  “Of course they are. You’ll see.”

  “I like to be prepared,” she challenges. Ah, there it is. I like when she uses her fire on my behalf, but I like it even more when it’s directed at me. I lean in until our lips are just a whisper apart and push a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her light brown waves are silky and soft, and now I want to thread my fingers through them, grip them, guide her head down my body. Jesus. I step back so she’s out of my reach.

  “I think you like being surprised more, Summer.”

  “Stars. They think they know better than the rest of us.” She rolls her eyes, but her voice is breathy.

  “I have fourteen days to lure out your adventurous side, Summer. Don’t challenge me.”

  “Why not? Because you don’t like challenges?”

  “Because I win them.”

  She laughs, shaking her head. “See you around, Alex.”

  “Yeah.”

  She definitely will see me around. A lot.

  Chapter Nine

  Summer

  My heart skitters like mad while I bid Alex goodbye. I head straight to my bungalow, holding my sandals in one hand, walking barefoot on the pathway. My skin’s still hot where he touched me, as if he left an imprint on me. Now, if there would be a way for me to find out what he’s planning to show the kids. But where to begin my snooping? I have a long history of snooping around. Goes with the territory of being the family’s baby, I suppose. I was always in everyone’s business and got away with it too. One of my first memories is of emotionally black
mailing my siblings into not getting mad at me by making puppy dog eyes and giving them sloppy kisses on their cheeks.

  I take in my bungalow wistfully. It’s two rows away from the waterfront. If I strategically place my lounge chair on the porch, I can spot the water, but it’s nothing compared to Alex’s view. Maybe I should change tactics, and instead of snooping on his teaching plans, I should put my snooping skills to better use, such as persuading him to more lunches out there so I can enjoy the view... and his company. I loved sitting there, talking to him. I felt like he was listening to me, really paying attention.

  When I brought up the tabloids, there was no mistaking the shadow that fell over him.

  I wanted to soothe him, but I had no idea how. Usually, I wish I had magic powers so I can turn all baked goods calorie-free, but if I had magic powers right now, I’d use them to make him forget his life is splashed over the tabloids.

  Unfortunately, I don’t have any magical powers. But what I lack in supernatural abilities, I make up for in persuasion and determination. So before heading to the reception to welcome the group, I stop by the resort’s shop, inspecting the stand with magazines. As I expected, half the shelf space is dedicated to gossip magazines, and half of those have Alex and Amy’s saga splashed on the cover.

  “Hi, may I help you?” the vendor, a pretty blonde, asks.

  “Yes. Here’s the thing, you probably heard Alex Westbrook is a guest at the resort.”

  She nods excitedly. “Yes.”

  “You understand how uncomfortable it would be for him to see guests reading this.” I point to the magazine whose covers he graces.

  “Oh!” Her smile drops. “I can’t do anything about it.”

  “Here’s a suggestion: what if you forget to place an order for them for the next two weeks? It’s always the same publications that run these stories.”

  She shakes her head, and I feel a vein twitching in my temple.

  “Can’t. The orders are placed automatically. And even so, the store owner would throw a fit. They’re our bestselling products right now. People come in asking for them.”

  I rub the back of my neck, attempting to dissipate the tension gathering there. Why do people enjoy so much reading about other’s misery?

  “I’ll make you a deal. I will buy all those magazines. When you get the delivery, sort out all publications featuring Alex and Amy, and bring them straight to my room.”

  I used this exact tactic once before, after Pippa filed for divorce from the asshole that was her first husband. Alice and I took her to a spa retreat. I went to the hotel’s shop to buy sunscreen, and I saw my sister’s name in a gossip magazine. I bought every single copy.

  The blonde stares at me. “We get about fifty copies of each. That’s a lot of—”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll pay up front if you want. Just bring them straight to my room. If anyone asks—your boss or the resort customers—just say they sold out. Start by giving me all the copies you have right now.”

  She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, glancing at the stack of magazines before nodding. “I suppose it’s fair game. You’re buying them, after all.”

  “Great. Can you take them to my room? I need to be at the reception.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll just put a sign on the door that I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  After paying, I leave the shop with a pep in my step. The hotel guests could always go out and buy magazines, but the resort is all-inclusive, so most people don’t have a reason to go outside. I’m banking on their laziness trumping their thirst for scandal.

  ***

  Over the next two days, I keep a close eye on the guests’ reading material, but Alex’s name or face doesn’t stare back at me from any cover. So far, it seems my bet is paying off. Word spreads that he’s in the resort though, and he signs so many autographs that I’m surprised his arm doesn’t fall off.

  The camp schedule is a little frantic for the kids, what with the Spanish lessons in the morning and all the activities in the afternoon. I, on the other hand, am a woman of leisure. I teach painting for a few hours. Other than that, I fill my time with lying in the sun... and spying on Alex’s classes. It was completely unintentional on day one. I was sitting in the sun when the sound of his voice caught my attention. He brought the youngest group to the corner of the waterfront I’ve asked the hotel to reserve exclusively for our group.

  Midway through his demonstration of a stunt, which included some fight moves and throwing himself on the grass, he took his shirt off. All that taut skin on display made me break out in a sweat... and also swear, because I wasn’t close enough to see him properly.

  I solve this issue the next day, placing my sunbed strategically closer to their practice spot. I turn my sunbed at a perfect angle. One could easily assume I chose the angle to see the sunset better. I also have a book with me, and I can peek from behind it without it being too obvious. Even though the end of June at Lake Tahoe isn’t exactly hot, I’m still determined to soak in as much sun as possible. The view is absolutely gorgeous. Perfect blue water surrounded by mountain peaks and a clear sky. If I could marry Lake Tahoe, I would.

  When Alex arrives, with the kids in tow, I sit up a little higher in my sunbed. A few short minutes later, he pauses his stunt performance and takes off his shirt again.

  Holy Pop-Tarts and cupcakes. I’ve seen him shirtless on magazine covers and in his movies, but nothing beats seeing him live. All those lean, defined muscles. I don’t know where to look first. His chiseled abs or those fan-tab-ulous biceps. This would be an excellent moment for him to ask for my assistance. I don’t even care what I’d have to do. Plus points if it involves skin-on-skin contact.

  How would those strong arms feel around me? Pulling me to him, so I could feel every inch of that incredible chest. The longer I look, the more surreal his body seems. I mean, I knew he had a rigorous training regimen for his superhero role, but I assumed he laid it off in his free time. Evidently not.

  “Summer, do you have anything to drink? I just finished my water bottle,” Alex calls.

  His voice snaps me out of my daydream. Good God, did he see me looking? Even though I’m wearing sunglasses, I lower my gaze to the grass, willing my thoughts to scramble in their place.

  “Ice-cold lemonade.”

  He strides toward me, and while he downs a gulp, my phone, which lies face up next to my thigh on the sunbed, lights up... with a notification from SoulDates, the infamous dating app. I scramble to hide it, but only manage to draw Alex’s attention to the phone.

  “You’re on SoulDates?” he asks incredulously.

  “A work colleague signed me up. Swore it can’t get worse than my dating history, and she had a point. I sure have enough bad experiences: mommy’s boy, daddy’s boy, the cheater, the egomaniac, the one who doesn’t want a relationship, the one who does want a relationship, but then bolts because I require too much attention. The list goes on.”

  He sets the glass on the small table next to my sunbed, lowering himself on his haunches. His jaw ticks, like what I said makes him mad, but he doesn’t say anything. I slip right into crazy-defensive mode.

  “Don’t judge me.”

  “I’m not judging.”

  “Oh yeah? Then what’s that clenched jaw about, huh? And the narrowed eyes?”

  “I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt. You really think you’ll find...” He seems to be weighing his words carefully. Meanwhile, I’m melting a bit at the idea of being important enough to him that he worries about me. “You really think SoulDates is the way to go?”

  I deflate. “No. I only let her install it because she was nagging. I was thinking about deleting it.”

  “You do that.”

  “Would you sleep better if I did?” I grin, suddenly feeling like prodding is in order. Why exactly does he care? How much does he care?

  “Yeah, I would.”

  “Okay... Mr. B
izarrely Protective.” Fiddling with my phone, I delete the app, then show him my screen. “Now, go back to kicking ass. You’re really good with those fake takedowns.”

  “I’m good at a lot of things.” His gaze drops to my mouth before snapping back up.

  “We’re still talking about stunts?” I challenge.

  “What else?”

  He winks, his face breaking into that smile I love so much. A few drops of sweat trickle down that gorgeous chest. He’s so lickable. I catch myself drawing my tongue over my lower lip. My nipples have perked up. When our gazes cross, I hold up my book, signaling I want to get back to it.

  Mercifully, he rises to his feet and turns his attention to the kids again, this time giving me a view of his back. He’s wearing jeans, which I find a singularly terrible choice of clothes. I mean, we’re at the lake, the sun is shining. Couldn’t he grace some shorts?

  With a sigh, I snap my focus on the book. Tempting as it is to keep glancing at Alex, I don’t want to give off the wrong vibe. I’ve always had a penchant for choosing the wrong men, but an actor whose contract dictates his love life and who was engaged would be an exceptionally huge mistake. But looking never hurt. Why not indulge in the muscle-fest taking place right in front of me? Lowering my book just a smidge, I discover I’m excellent at juggling two activities: reading and Alex-gazing.

  As the day goes on, I catch him looking at me almost as often as he catches me looking at him. Oh man. There are only so many times I can pass off his winks as eye twitches, or his blatant perusal as lazy eye syndrome. Whether he wants to flirt, that’s another story. All signs point to no. When I catch him in the act, he glances the other way.

  But then he goes and does it again as if he can’t help himself, which makes it even hotter.

  Chapter Ten

  Summer

  Two days later, I wake up too late, and I run to the breakfast room as if something’s chasing me. Our group has its own open buffet in the separate room where we have all our meals, but muffins are popular.