I’m about to tell her exactly that—and then possibly tell her how much I’d like to pull her into a private corner—when a hand clamps down on my shoulder and shakes me excitedly.
“Nice fucking job, mate!” Arlo shouts over the noise of the garage.
I have to hand it to the kid, I don’t think I’ve ever had a teammate cheer for my success this much. Maybe it’s because neither of us has been in the running for titles or glory. Might as well cheer each other on in that case. Someone’s got to get points for the team.
I thank him and ask where he’s starting tomorrow, but my question is ignored because Arlo’s full attention is on Stella.
He grins up at her, all bright white teeth and excessive charm. He’s shown me the web pages dedicated to him, and there’s no denying he’s a fan favorite among the younger demographic. I can’t blame them, because he looks like he should be the lead singer of a boy band. If anyone’s the knockoff Harry Styles here, it’s him.
“This the wife?” Arlo asks me, even though he’s staring at Stella. “I get why you married her so fast. You’d be a fool to risk someone else swooping in before you could lock that down.”
That shocks a loud laugh out of Stella, whose hand presses harder against my chest, as if she’s silently asking,Can you believe this kid?
Unfortunately, I can absolutely believe him, because this is classic Arlo Wood. Cheeky fucker extraordinaire.
“Bless your heart,” Stella says, that American drawl coming out strong. It’s so saccharine that it’s borderline condescending. “Bet the girls are lining up around the block to have a go at you.”
I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from smirking at the way her eyes flick over him. I’d call Arlo out onhis comment if I thought Stella wanted me to, but she’s got this handled. Watching her draw herself up a little taller has me tempted to step completely aside to let her have a go at him.
I don’t, though, because he’s interrupted a moment with her that I didn’t want interrupted, especially since it will have to end soon.
“Don’t you need to be getting to the media pen, Arlo?” I cut in, heading off whatever he was about to say.
For a moment, I swear he’s going to ignore me and carry on flirting with Stella, but he must see the insistence in my eyes and puts his hands up instead.
“I’m gone,” he announces, unzipped race suit fluttering around his hips as he steps back. “Let the grown-ups have their romantic moment. You better join me soon, though.”
He winks at Stella before sauntering off, my half-hearted glare on his back. Again, she laughs, drawing my attention, and my annoyance floods away at the sparkle in her eyes.
I want to stick around and talk to her, especially about her upcoming move to London on Monday, but I really do need to head over for the same media circus I sent Arlo off to. “I’m sorry, I have to go do interviews and then I have the team debrief. But I’ll be back as soon as I—”
She cuts me off with a shake of her head. “Go do what you need to and don’t worry about me. I’m the one who surprised you at your job. If you did the same to me, I wouldn’t hesitate to ignore you.”
She’s teasing about that last part, but I know she’s serious about the rest of it. She wants and expects me to focus on what I’m here to do. I appreciate that push.
“We can talk later,” I offer, but she’s already scrunching her nose at the idea.
“I’m jet-lagged as hell, so I’m going to bed. Come find mewhenever you have time tomorrow. Maeve knows where I’ll be.”
Speaking of my assistant, she and I need to have a chat about keeping secrets, since clearly she was the one who organized Stella coming here. Then again, it wasn’t exactly an unwelcome surprise.
“See you tomorrow, Prince Charming,” Stella murmurs, closing the distance between us to press a warm, lingering kiss to my cheek. “And tell Arlo he better watch his damn mouth the next time he talks to me or else McMorris is going to need to find a new number two driver.”
Turns out I don’t have to wait long to see Stella the next day, considering we’re hotel room neighbors.
“I don’t know how Maeve pulled this off,” I say when Stella opens her door, “but I think she deserves a raise for it.”
She snickers and steps back to let me into the room, where I spot breakfast for two set up on a table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, certainly Maeve’s doing once again.
“She may not be your biggest fan, but she seems fond of us together,” Stella comments. “Does she know all of this is fake?”
I shake my head and move to the table, pulling out Stella’s chair. She’s not yet dressed for the day, considering she’s wearing what looks like a camel-colored cashmere tracksuit, but she makes it look sexy. How does this woman manage to maketrackieslook good?
Once she’s settled, I go to sit across from her. “I told Maeve our lie,” I answer. “Not sure she believes it, though. And I had to amend it a bit from what you told your parents. She knows I wasn’t in Vegas when Ron and my brother were, so we couldn’t have met then.”
Stella’s expression falls like a brick, which makes my stomach dip along with it.
“Shit,” she whispers, fingers lifting to her lips. “I messed that up, didn’t I?”
