by K. M. Scott
I heard in his voice the anger he was feeling. Trying to help, I rested my palm on his forearm. “It’s okay. Nothing bad happened. We’re good. I’m Jezebel and the press is eating it up like it’s candy.”
“Nina, although I’m not entirely clear on what danger you may be in, I do know a slip up like that could let someone close enough to really hurt you. My job is to make sure that never happens. We may be pretending to play house, but Tristan Stone expects me to keep you safe from every kind of danger, even one that only looks like a nuisance like those photographers.”
I hung my head, not caring about whatever danger there was around me. Those photographers had gotten to me, their words echoing in my mind. Who’s the new man, Nina? How long have you been together? What do you plan to do if Tristan Stone ever returns?
The mere thought of Tristan’s return as an if instead of a when hurt. I’d thought with Gage’s help I could do this pretending thing, but I didn’t realize it would be so hard. I didn’t want to be with anyone else, and making people think I did felt wrong.
“You okay?”
I looked over at Gage and forced a smile. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t ready for that.”
“They’re vipers, but that’s their job. If you think about it that way, it might be easier.”
Looking down at my left hand as it rested on top of my other one in my lap, I regretted ever agreeing to this. The finger where my engagement ring should have been looked like I felt. Empty.
“I guess. I want to go home.”
“We need to eat at Malone’s before we get to head home,” he said, sounding almost apologetic.
“Fine. We’ll do that, but then I want to go home.”
Chapter Seven
Nina
Malone’s was exactly the kind of place I dreaded and exactly the kind of place I knew Daryl would send us to. Small and intimate, it was dark even in the daylight and screamed romantic rendezvous. God, I wished Daryl wasn’t so good at this.
The hostess escorted us to a table near a window looking directly out to the street. I quietly protested, but Gage simply showed me his phone and a text from Daryl indicating this was exactly where he’d arranged for us to be seen.
Fucking fabulous.
I held the menu up in front of my face as a small group of photographers began to gather outside. Nothing on it sounded even remotely appetizing, but I tried to convince myself that as long as the bar could whip up a chocolate martini or two, I might make it through our latest performance.
“Nina, I understand you’re not happy, but hiding behind the menu isn’t really what Daryl wants, I’m guessing.”
“I don’t care what he wants,” I said from behind my menu.
The waiter arrived to take our order, entirely too chipper for my mood. I listened as Gage ordered his meal of a steak cooked medium and roasted red bliss potatoes with steamed asparagus dressed in parmesan. Ordinarily, that would have sounded good, but at that moment, just the thought of it nearly made me sick.
“What will Miss be having?” the waiter asked as he turned and looked down at me.
“Chocolate martini. Make sure the glass is sugared.”
He tugged on my menu, forcing it from my hand, and smiled fakely before turning away. I looked across the table at Gage and saw a look of pity on his face. I hated his pity. Self-pity I was all about, but pity from someone who barely knew me just felt wrong.
“Liquid lunch?”
“Yeah.”
We sat in silence as the waiter brought Gage’s soda and my martini, the crowd outside growing the whole time. What the fuck had Daryl told them? Did they think they would catch us having sex right there in the window of Malone’s?
Gage slid his hand across the table to touch mine. “Nina, I know this is hard, but we have to try.”
“I don’t want to try. I want to drink. I want to forget that I’m sitting here with people watching our every move and waiting for us to act like we care about each other.”
“Maybe if I tell you something about me and Angela that might help?”
“Sure,” I mumbled as I focused on the taste of my martini as it sat on my tongue, all chocolately goodness.
He didn’t move his hand away, keeping it on top of mine and giving the photographers something to snap away at, which they did. Every part of me wanted to take my hand back, but I kept it there as he began to tell the tale of the woman he’d loved.
“I remember the first time we knew we thought more of each other than just bodyguard and client. She was on location in Spain. We’d been pretending to be a couple for months, but one night, it all just came together.”
“Was it love at first sight?” I asked as I took a healthy gulp of my drink, enjoying the warming sensation it left in its wake as I swallowed.
Gage shook his head. “No. She was like a spoiled child when I first began guarding her. I don’t think we spoke our first words to one another for weeks after I was hired. Well, that’s not true. She snapped at me constantly in those weeks. When we finally began talking, I could see she wasn’t that diva I’d thought she was.”
“Sounds like that Whitney Houston movie, The Bodyguard.”
“Not exactly. She wasn’t that bad.”
I held up my glass to let the waiter know I needed a refill. “Well, it’s nice to know there was a happy ending,” I said as I looked around the restaurant for the missing waiter.
“Not really. She married someone else last March.”
Turning to look at him, for first time I saw emotion in his eyes. God, I was such a bitch! I placed my glass down on the table and rested my other hand on top of his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so flippant about everything. You obviously cared about her.”
“Yeah, well, that whole good things happening to good people thing doesn’t always happen to everyone. Sometimes things are bad and that’s all there is.”
The waiter brought Gage’s food and another martini for me, and we sat in silence as he ate and I attempted to drown both our troubles. The press milling about outside had taken lots of pictures when I touched his hand, so I hoped we’d done our job well enough for Daryl to be happy. I didn’t want to think Tristan would be happy. I wanted to believe he’d be as jealous as I’d be if I saw him holding hands with another woman.
By the time I’d drunk three martinis, Gage was finished with lunch. In addition to tasting great, my chocolate martinis had the wonderful effect of making me hate the facade we had to keep up a little less, at least for the moment. I was also feeling more talkative.
“It was love at first sight for me with Tristan,” I announced as Gage finished the last of his steak and wiped his mouth.
“That’s cool. I didn’t realize that even existed in real life.”
“Well, maybe not first sight, but the first time he kissed me, it was definitely something like love.”
“Those drinks sure have an effect on you,” Gage joked. “Even your body language has eased up. You look like you did that night at ETA.”
“You were there with us that night?” I asked, surprised to know he’d seen Tristan and me then.
Gage nodded. “West and I have been in the shadows with you since you returned home from the hospital, especially when you’re alone without Tristan.”
He knew that I’d gone to see Cal that time and probably knew I’d secretly met with him those other times. I didn’t know why, but I needed to explain that I hadn’t cheated on Tristan.
“Then you know about me meeting with Cal Johnson. I didn’t do anything wrong, you know. It was all on the up-and-up.”
“I know. If you had done anything, we would have had to tell Tristan. I know it’s not my place to say so, Nina, but your ex-boyfriend is a scammer.”
“I found that out. I guess it’s nice to know that you guys were around to make sure nothing bad happened.”
“And Jensen too,” he said with a smile. “I was surprised he jumped in that night at that bar. You must have made quite an
impression on the guy.”
Gage’s phone dinged, and he lifted it to show me it was Daryl texting him. I didn’t have to see the entire text to know what he wanted. All it took was one word I saw scrolling across the top of his phone.
Kiss
His text was longer than that, including where and when to kiss me, and as Gage read it to me, I felt the intense need for another drink. Maybe being entirely hammered would make it possible for me to kiss another man for the cameras.
I lifted my glass, but Gage pushed my wrist down so the glass sat back on the table. “I think we need to go.”
“I think I want another drink. You just read the decree from Daryl that I have to kiss you, and what that means is that the man I love told him he’s okay with that. I need another fucking drink.”
“Let’s get you home and then whatever you’re feeling you can let out all you want. I just don’t want to see you unravel in front of these people.”
Turning to look out the window, I saw the photographers and suddenly hated them. I hated this whole thing. I didn’t want to do this anymore. As I stared out at them, my phone vibrated and I swiped the face to see Daryl had sent me a text too.
But it was even worse than the one he sent to Gage because this one wasn’t from him. It was from Tristan.
Daryl says you won’t do what he asked. I know this is hard, but we need the world to think you’ve moved on. It’s just for a short time, princess. Remember that and we’ll be okay.
Princess. It was Tristan, after all. All those texts and this was the one he decided was worth responding to? Crushed, I let my fingers fly over the keyboard on my phone. What happened to the man who was so jealous that I couldn’t even have drinks with my ex? Now you’re okay with me kissing Gage, the guy the world knows as my incredibly sexy bodyguard who’s doing so much more than just guarding my body these days? Thanks for bothering to clear this up for me.
I waited for another text from Tristan from Daryl’s number, but it never came. Whatever he felt about me kissing another man, he couldn’t even bother to reply.
The Kiss happened just as Daryl dictated—or maybe it was how Tristan dictated—right outside the restaurant as we walked to Jensen and our waiting car. It meant nothing to me physically, but emotionally, I was devastated that Tristan had actually wanted it to happen. All those months alone and what did I have to show for it? The man I loved and prayed every day and night to see again telling me that I had to kiss another man.
We rode back to the house in silence, my misery stewing inside me as I listened almost hypnotized to the sound of the tires rolling over highway, and I beat a path for my room the moment the car jerked to a stop in the garage. All I wanted was to be alone. No more pretending with Gage. No more orders from Daryl. No more anything. Just me curled up in bed.
Before I did that, though, I had to text Tristan. Even if he didn’t answer back, which he never did, I needed to say some things. Slowly, I spelled out how much I hated all of this, ending with the one question I couldn’t push out of my mind.
Do you even care about me anymore?
Closing my eyes, I let the tears burning my eyelids slide down my cheeks and prayed to God I could at least suffer in solitude.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t even have that. Just minutes after pulling the covers up over my head, I’d barely closed my eyes before I heard a knock on my door. I hadn’t told Gage I didn’t want to be bothered, assuming he understood that by my behavior all the way home from the city, so I padded over to the door and opened it to find not him but Daryl standing there. His bushy red beard looked like he’d been tugging on it all day, and he looked about as bad as I felt.
“Can we talk?”
“Now? I’m a little busy trying to sleep, Daryl. Come back later.”
“Why are you sleeping in the middle of the afternoon?” he pried, irritating me.
“Because I’m goddamned exhausted after my little shopping trip with Gage and the subsequent show you made us put on. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone. Why don’t you talk to him? Maybe you have some more things you want us to do together. A make out session on Broadway? Or maybe a live sex show right outside the gate so the press can get their pictures and their rocks off? Sort of a kill two birds with one stone kind of thing.”
“I can see you’re upset, but we need to talk. Tristan wanted me to tell you…”
I pushed my hand in front of his face to cut him off. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear another thing about what Tristan wants. I know what he wants, so thank you for that. Now leave me alone.”
Before I could slam the door in his face, he pushed it back and stuck his hairy face toward me. “We really need to talk.”
All the sadness at realizing Tristan was with Daryl but couldn’t even contact me, except to tell me to kiss another man, came flowing out of me, and I released the door. I didn’t care if my crying made Daryl uncomfortable. I didn’t care what he thought at that moment. I was sick and tired of his edicts or Tristan’s edicts, or whatever the hell they were.
I just wanted my life with Tristan back.
“Nina, I know this is hard, but it’s important.”
“I don’t care anymore! The only goddamned time Tristan bothers to text me back is to inform me that he wants me to kiss Gage? Are you kidding? I’m supposed to be okay with all of this? Well, I’m not!”
Daryl stepped back as my voice grew louder and louder until it was nothing less than a shrill scream. All the better. After all this time, I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit my fists against something, or better, someone.
“And you can tell my dear fiancé that he should be nervous. I mean, Jordan already thinks that I snuck behind her back to snag Gage from her. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m sick of waiting for Tristan and living here all alone. You had Gage move into the room right next to mine. He’s pretty good looking, Daryl. Maybe I’m ready to move on, even though I know Tristan isn’t dead. Maybe you should tell Tristan all of that and see how he feels. Tell him I’m all for fucking my hot bodyguard, you know, just to make sure the press really believes our story. Maybe then he’ll understand how awful I feel.”
I’d never seen Daryl surprised before. He usually wore a mainly bland expression with me, but at that moment, I saw that he knew I was serious. Maybe he even believed I did want Gage. Good. Then maybe he’d go back to Tristan and let him know that their stupid plan was tearing me apart.
“Nina, I don’t think Tristan meant to upset you.”
Rubbing the mascara from underneath my eyes, I snapped, “Well, he did! Let him know that too.”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope with my name on it. I recognized the writing instantly. Tristan’s. Daryl held out his hand for me to take it, quietly saying, “Maybe this will help you feel better.”
This time one of Tristan’s love letters wasn’t going to do it. In fact, it only served to make me angrier. Shaking my head, I folded my arms across my chest. “Nope. You can take that back to him, wherever he is, and tell him that whatever he wants to say to me he can say in person. And since I’m getting closer and closer to Gage every day, tell him he doesn’t have to worry about me being in danger.”
I knew my words were harsh, but the ones I left unspoken were even worse. And I knew Daryl. He had no sense of romance whatsoever and little tact, so he’d tell Tristan exactly what I’d said. When he did, Tristan would read into my words, like always, and hear everything I’d said and what I’d left unsaid.
Backing away, Daryl still wore a look of shock on his face as he stood with Tristan’s letter in his hand watching the door close in front of him. I walked back to my bed and slipped under the covers again, swearing that I wouldn’t come out again until Tristan was the one knocking on my door.
That pledge didn’t pan out either, though. As I lay there hearing someone knock on my door once again, I found it stunning that in a house where I was surrounded by mostly men I couldn’t be left alone. It was like being in
the middle of every woman’s dream of having men who wanted to talk. To me, it was more like a nightmare.
I shuffled over to the door, fully prepared to read Daryl the riot act this time. This was my house, and he had it coming. Flinging it open, I saw Gage standing there looking down at me. Reaming someone out would have to wait.
“I just wanted to check to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you want to talk…”
Gage’s voice faded to silence, as if he instantly regretted his offer. In truth, I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to scream.
“What do you want to talk about? How my fiancé thinks making me kiss other men is a good idea? How I’m devastated over knowing that he’s obviously with Daryl and can’t be bothered to even fucking text me to tell me he misses me?”
With each syllable, my voice grew louder until by the end, I was yelling at my poor bodyguard-turned-fake boyfriend. At that moment, I didn’t care if I was hurting anyone else’s feelings. I was just sick of what I was feeling.
I turned away from Gage and walked back to my bed, suddenly exhausted from the weight of my emotions. He cautiously followed me, taking a seat next to me on the bed as I began to sob, and put his arm around my shoulders as they heaved from my crying.
“It’s okay, Nina. I know it seems like everything’s crazy now, but sometimes that’s how it has to be,” he said softly as I buried my face in his chest.
“I can’t do crazy anymore. This is too hard.”
For the first time since that night Tristan and I first made love, the thought that I couldn’t handle Tristan’s world settled into my mind. I still loved him, but I just didn’t know if I was the right person to deal with all that came with him.
Gage let me have a good, long cry, and I sat back from him to wipe the tears from under my eyes. Shaking my head, I apologized for being such a fucked up mess. “I’m sorry you have to see this. I bet right now you’re wishing you never said yes to pretending to be my boyfriend, although I’m guessing Daryl didn’t give you much choice, did he?”
