by Eden Summers
They strode into the restaurant, declined the lone waitress’s offer of service and helped themselves to a secluded table at the back of the room. The place was empty. Not a soul in sight.
“I don’t think the restaurant is open,” Felicity answered his unspoken question and sank into her chair. “It’s mid-afternoon. Right in the middle of lunch and dinner. I’m pretty sure the waitress should’ve turned us away, but there was that glazed gleam of recognition in her eyes.”
“It must be my lucky day.” He sat across from her, not sure whether he should be flirting to break the tension… Not sure how the hell he was supposed to flirt at all. “So, what’s bothering you most about this situation?”
She sighed and brushed the light wisps of hair back behind her ears. “Where do I start?”
“Wherever you want.”
She lowered her gaze and fiddled with the polished cutlery. “I have a lot at stake with this.”
“We all do.” He made sure his face matched the seriousness tightening his throat. “Not just me, but Reckless in general. All the wives of the bandmates, too.”
“True.” She sucked in a deep breath and slumped in her chair. “I guess the worst part is the humiliation that comes with acknowledging Slicker’s lack of success. And Scott…” She shuddered. “That man is a jerk. He’s taking pleasure in rubbing in our failure, and has made it perfectly clear I have no choice in this charade. Either I participate or there won’t be another album.”
Her reluctance made the situation ten times worse. He’d never forced himself on a woman before… Oh, wait… He guessed he had. And look how that situation panned out. “Making you miserable is going to kill me. But the harder we drive this home, the quicker our goals will be accomplished. Then we can part ways and pretend like this never happened.”
“You think it will be that easy?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “A few public appearances at romantic venues. A kiss here and there…” Her cringe pulled him up short, even though he hid the same reluctance deep inside his chest. “I’m not your type, am I?”
She laughed and gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry. I didn’t mean the knee-jerk reaction. This is just happening a lot quicker than I expected.”
No biggie. It wasn’t like his ego hadn’t already been pulverized by his ex. He could take a few more hits before he was out for the count. At least he hoped so.
“Please don’t take it personally,” she continued. “You know you’re gorgeous. You’ve got the rugged appeal and those hypnotizing eyes. It doesn’t help that this is forced.”
He scrutinized her, from her cynical gaze to the droop of her pouty mouth. She wasn’t offering an ounce of enthusiasm. “This doesn’t leave me reassured for our success.” The happiness of the five most important people in his life relied on this woman and her delirious amounts of apathy.
“I’m not backing out.” Her lips parted and her already pale skin seeped of color. “Shit. I’m sorry. I was only complaining. I’m completely dedicated to this. I promise.”
Completely disgusted, humiliated, and freaking out at the mere thought of kissing him, but yeah, totally dedicated.
“How’s it all going?”
He relaxed at the familiar feminine voice and looked to his side to see Alana smiling bright, her camera bag resting over her shoulder.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He pushed back in his chair, thankful for the reprieve. “Alana, this is Flick, she’s the lead singer in our opening act.”
“Yeah, I know.” She gave him an incredulous look. “I’ve seen a performance or two. You’ve got a great voice.”
“Thank you. And I’ve heard you’re a mighty fine photographer.”
Alana blushed. “I sure hope so. It allows me the best job in the world.”
“Here, have my seat.” Ryan made to stand and was shoved back down by a surprisingly strong hand.
“If I need to sit, I’ll pull up another chair.” She placed her camera bag on the floor. “So… Do you have any ideas about how you want to do this?”
“I’ll leave that up to Flick.” He was already growing tired of being the positive force. If she had a long list of reservations and compounding moral issues, she could pick where they started.
“No, Ryan, you should make the decisions.” Felicity shook her head, her features still filled with apology. “I’m new to this, but I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”
Jesus Christ, did she think he was a pro at media manipulation?
There was a pause as Alana glanced from him to Felicity and back again. “Can I suggest something?” she asked. “Eola Lake is right around the corner and would be the perfect setting. It would allow me to capture an image with a bit of distance to it. We don’t want to slap your fans in the face with something obvious. We want them to create a talking point, to question whether it’s really the two of you together. Because if they talk and argue online, it’ll give us a better chance to get this romance trending.”
“That’s brilliant.” Damn it. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
Alana blushed again. “It was actually Leah’s idea. She called me a few minutes ago and gave some suggestions.”
Of course she did. He’d tried to distance her from the drama set to drive a bigger wedge between them, but that woman was stubborn. She would force herself to the front line no matter what.
“I bet she picked out the perfect spot, too.”
“You know her well.” Alana grinned. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Ten minutes later, they were in a secluded area beside the water, Felicity’s back against the trunk of a wide tree as he leaned into her.
“How are you feeling?” His thigh was between her legs, his palm plastered beside her head. The position gave him whiplash. Days ago he’d been struggling to assimilate to single-status; now his body was entwined with a complete stranger, and he wasn’t enjoying that either.
“I’m perfect.”
He snorted. “Do you really think you can bullshit me?”
She wove her hand around his neck, the softness of her skin delicately brushing away his solitude. “Put up or shut up, right?”
That pretty much summed up their situation. “Yeah, but if I’m making you uncomfortable I want to know about it.”
“Nah.” She smiled, the first genuine curve of lips he’d received from her. “I’m settling into this like a pro.”
Thank Christ. Although he’d been used to a certain level of sterile disconnect in his marriage, he didn’t want to relive it with Felicity. One woman striving to make him feel inferior was enough for now.
“I need you to keep talking to me, though.” She tickled the back of his neck with her fingernails. “What do you do for fun?”
“There isn’t much fun flowing through these veins at the moment. I’ve got an ex who’s prepared to bleed me dry and a label determined to make my life hell.”
“And here I am, making it even more difficult.”
She placed her other palm on his cheek, stoking the emotion for Alana who was hiding somewhere in the distance with a lens pointed in their direction. They’d been instructed to act casual—loving yet playful. They didn’t want the pictures to have a sleazy vibe. Not yet. Apparently, the money shot was somewhere between flirtation and hot ‘n’ heavy.
“We’re through the worst of it.” He leaned in and winced when she stiffened. “I’m only going to nuzzle your cheek,” he whispered in her ear. “You can tell me to back off whenever you like.”
“I’m still good.” She lowered her hand to his waist. “Just warn me next time. I’m jumpy because the camera scrutiny is new to me. I don’t usually get this much attention.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“There’s nothing but honesty here.”
He still wasn’t convinced. Blake hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d called her hot. Felicity had a non-stereotypical appeal. She wasn’t dainty with her heavy boots, black tight jeans, and the thick eye make-up which enh
anced eerily bright eyes. She rocked her own set of rules with her harsh exterior, and leveled it with a soft interior which was poking his intrigue.
“But you smell really good.” She inhaled deeply. “Your aftershave is intoxicating.”
“Darlin’, you smell mighty fine yourself.”
She hit him with those baby blues. Hit him hard. “Thank you.”
There was a moment of silence, an awkward expanse of seconds where his heart panged for another woman. “Do you think Alana’s got enough by now?”
“I don’t know.” She pulled a face, an expression caught between humor and discomfort. “I still feel like the worst actress in the world.”
“You’re doing fine.” Too damn fine.
His cell rang in his pants pocket and he palmed the device to see Alana’s name staring back at him. “Hopefully this is good news.” He hit connect and lifted it to his ear.
“I have the best shot. You’re going to love it.”
“So we’re done?”
Felicity looked at him in hope.
“Yeah. You’re so done. This is absolutely perfect. You’re going to be breaking hearts all over again.”
He should’ve been relieved. Instead, his chest pounded with a rhythm of an entirely different beat. He didn’t want to be comfortable with Felicity. Falling into easy conversation and breaking personal space barriers within hours wasn’t an achievement. It was a liability. He was lonely. He was heartbroken. And this beautiful woman was smiling up at him, mimicking his apprehension in her own little way.
“OK. I’ll meet you at the hotel.” He disconnected the call and made to back away.
“Wait.” Felicity’s grip tightened around his neck. “Do you want to get this kissing thing over and done with?”
He froze. “I can say, with complete honesty, that that’s the least enthusiastic proposition I’ve ever had.”
She jabbed at his chest in a way that sparked memories. It made him think of someone else, someone who had once smiled up at him with a similar playfulness in her eyes.
“Your poor defenseless ego,” she cooed. “But I’m not joking. I’m finally relaxed and I think we should get it out of the way. It’ll make it easier for when we need to do it in front of an audience.”
The logic was tight. Too bad every inch of him was in protest. He didn’t want to kiss her. He had major hang-ups. He had skeletons. He had a shitload of issues destined to multiply once his lips touched hers.
“Let’s leave it for now.” He stepped back. “Think on it. Fantasize about it. And when you’re at the point where you can’t take another breath without kissing me, then I’ll blow your mind with my skills.”
She threw her head back and laughed. It was a brilliant sound—loud and rambunctious. It wouldn’t be difficult to lean forward and give her what she wanted. To practice what they eventually had to do for show. But it wasn’t merely a performance for him. He’d only kissed two women since he was a teenager, and he was still undeniably in love with one of them.
Divorce or not, single or not, kissing Felicity would mark the first step in an unwanted direction. And unfortunately, it was inevitable.
“Come on.” He turned away and began walking for the hotel.
She was still chuckling when she lifted his arm and snuggled into his side. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
He looked down at her, at the gorgeous face, the easy smile, the enticing body. “Yeah. Me, too.”
That was the problem.
Chapter Four
Atlanta, Georgia.
Ryan slumped into the sofa and placed his cell down on the coffee table. He was supposed to be somewhere. With someone. But he couldn’t think. Couldn’t move past the feeling of his life being tipped upside down and all the goodness shaken out.
Back in Orlando, Rockin’ Gossip had snapped up the opportunity to share the exclusive photos of him and Felicity. Hours later, his world was under a microscope. The Internet had been smothered with the image of him smiling down at his ‘newfound love.’ And the happy snap taken in the hotel lobby—the selfie with the young woman—was all the evidence Reckless fans needed to lose their minds over the relationship story.
The ‘practically unknown lead singer of Slicker’ was now amassing followers along with sales, the number gradually building with every passing hour. He, on the other hand, had received tweets, comments, and emails questioning his morals. You’re not even divorced yet. Give your wife a chance to move on. And another—So much for the dedication to your marriage. Did you even think about how Julie would feel? #player #typical #growup.
He’d frantically blocked or deleted all the slander in his timeline, completely unaware of how to react to the negativity. Maybe he was meant to ignore his reputation going to shit. Leah hadn’t mentioned the nastiness. Neither had his bandmates.
The worst part was knowing exactly how his ex would feel, and it had no reflection on the response she posted on Twitter claiming heartbreak and disappointment. Julie would be pissed he’d moved on before she did. End of story. And evidently from the call he’d just received from his lawyer, she was trying to use the information to manipulate the divorce negotiations.
“Ryan.”
He stiffened at Felicity’s call from the hotel hall and picked his phone up off the table. “Shit.” That’s where he was supposed to be. Not in his suite taking midnight calls from his legal team, but out with Felicity creating more speculation and hype about the fake relationship.
He jogged to the door and swung it open. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in a phone call.”
“Bad news?”
“My lawyer.”
She cringed. “Shit must be getting real if he’s calling after midnight. Do you want to postpone going out?”
Yes. Permanently. “You know we can’t.”
Her cringe remained. “I know.” She offered him a sad smile. “Are you ready?”
He looked down at himself and remembered the five second shower he’d had and the quick change of clothes. “Yeah. I guess.” He yanked the room card out of the holder and pulled the door shut behind him.
“You look exhausted.” She strode by his side, refreshed and picture perfect after the night’s performance. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Every damn minute of every damn day. “Nah. I’m good. I’ll kick out of the adrenaline detox soon and be back to normal.”
Truth was, he’d been dreading every breath inching him toward the imminent kiss. It didn’t matter how many texts he received from Felicity, or the amount of effort she was now putting in since the overnight increase in popularity. The act was a necessary evil. One soon to be unleashed.
“How about you?” He pressed the elevator button. “Are you dying to kiss me yet?”
She rolled her eyes with flair. “I can barely restrain myself.”
He wished it were the truth. Kissing a willing woman, even though his head and heart weren’t engaged, would be far better than forcing himself on someone who wasn’t interested. Again. “Good to know. I’ll make sure I don’t disappoint.”
He entered the hotel elevator and rested against the back wall. The mirrors surrounding them reflected a publicist’s dream—two young and talented people with the world at their feet. But what loomed over him was a building nightmare. He’d deflected paparazzi for years, now he had to embrace them. He’d safeguarded his private life to maintain his sanity, now he had to plaster it over the Internet.
Everything had changed. There was nothing left to cling to. His friends were paired off. His wife was no longer around to bring comfort. Not even Leah was willing to help him through the turmoil. He’d wanted to talk to her about the Internet trolls who were popping out of the woodwork. Hell, he would’ve given anything to hear her voice, even in anger, but her cell kept cutting straight to voicemail.
“Hands?” Felicity reached her fingers toward his. “That was the plan, right?”
“Yeah.” The plan. He joined their p
alms, the softness of her skin brushing his. There was no comfort in her touch, only a double-dose of shame. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The elevator doors opened and he led her into the lobby. Lights glistened from every angle, sparkling off marble and glass. Then the flash, flash, flash of cameras blinded his periphery.
“They were here when I arrived.” Felicity jutted her chin toward the entrance. “Hotel security had to usher me inside.”
A white limo was parked out front, the centerpiece to the small crowd of people waving posters, banners, and Reckless T-shirts behind a rope barricade.
“I tipped them off.”
He swung around at the sound of Leah’s voice and dragged Felicity along for the ride.
“They’re not aware of your destination,” she continued, her business suit far sexier than Felicity’s midriff top and tight jeans. “But if they don’t follow you to the club, let me know and I’ll send Alana along to take some snaps.”
“I don’t think we’ll need it.” Felicity nestled into his side, maintaining the charade with a little too much devotion. “Since the original photos were leaked, I haven’t been able to blink without someone posting it on the Internet.”
“Good.” Leah’s attention dropped to his hand, the fingers entwined with Felicity’s.
His chest tightened, waiting for a glimpse of pain, even a slice of distaste. Not that he craved her torment. All he wanted was the slightest affirmation to keep him hopeful for their future. A future that kept seeming further and further away.
Right time. Right place.
“The public has never seen you lusting over a woman.” A heavy swallow was her only reaction. “You always kept it private with Julie. This will be the first opportunity to give them a taste.”
“Give them more ammunition to troll me online, you mean?”
She finally met his gaze. “No. Not ammunition. Validation. Your fans are shocked. I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart once you convince them you’re happy.”
