His beard tickled my chin as he kissed me. It was soft and chaste. Nothing like the passionate embrace we’d had when we’d practiced. Since this was for a photo shoot, I understood the need to make it somewhat PG, but after a few flashes of the shutter, I ran my tongue along the seam of his lips. His mouth parted on a groan, and I plunged my tongue into his mouth. He didn’t hesitate to meet my passion with his own, his hand sliding further up my thigh until his long fingers rested just shy of my ass.
“Okay, I think we got it.” The photographer’s voice sounded muffled and far away.
Derek pulled us so we were standing, but he didn’t separate his mouth from mine. His hands found their way to the sides of my face, and when he finally pulled away, his eyes held mine for one long, delicious moment.
I had no idea what was between us, but I wanted more.
We changed back into our own clothes and headed back to the car. Unlike at lunch yesterday, the paparazzi were nowhere to be seen, and it was nice to enjoy the view of palm trees and blue sky rather than just focusing on getting in the car.
As we navigated traffic, I stared out the window and thought over the last few days. Derek was working on my house, trying to encourage me to pursue photography, kissing me and holding me, seeing and defending the real me, and doing everything I asked him to—selling our lie to the world. Maybe he was doing it for me. Maybe he was doing it so he could go home. I wanted both those things for him.
“You okay?” he asked. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I think we should go to Canada.”
Chapter 9
Derek
“Not to sound unpatriotic to theTrue North, Strong and Free, but why?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just—this city isn’t you. The paparazzi, dressed and styled just to leave the house. I don’t want to subject you to that for the next six months.”
“Six months?” Where did that number come from?
“Yeah, you were probably too drunk to remember, but we agreed to six months to make this whole thing seem real. A quickie divorce or annulment would make this pointless.”
The idea that my time with Rosalind was limited didn’t sit right. “I was planning to check smoke detectors, flush the hot water tank, and tighten the knobs on all of the kitchen cabinets at your place.”
She laughed. “I’m sure the place will still be standing if those things don’t get done. Besides, you have a business to run, don’t you want to get back to it?”
Oddly, I had barely thought about that. I had a good manager and a good crew. They were busy with a few projects; the only thing that was missing was me bringing more work in. I had savings to live off, although leaving my guys without work was something I couldn’t do. “Will we have media on the doorsteponce we get back to Springwood? How would we even duck them to get to the airport?”
Her eyes were wider than I’d seen them, and she suddenly seemed frantic to escape. “We don’t have anyone following us right now, we can just detour to the airport. My parents have a private plane, so no record of us buying tickets.”
“You’re in a sundress; we’ll be flying to Canada in March.”
She swallowed. “Meredith can bring your suitcase and a bag for me to the airport. Paparazzi won’t follow her. If they do, she knows how to lose them.” She paused. “Please.”
“Of course, I’m all for it. I didn’t think you would want to leave. Hell, if we can get back to reality, then let’s go. Charlotte probably has a million things she needs help with for the wedding anyway.”
Rosalind instructed the driver to circle the block to make sure we didn’t have anyone following us, then head to the airport. She pulled out her phone to arrange the plane, and I pulled mine out to call Charlotte.
“Hey, you still remember us little people now that you’re famous.”
“Hilarious. How are things at home?”
She filled me in on a few things about her business and wedding planning, then paused.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I don’t know what your plans are, probably because you haven’t told me. You’re an ass for that by the way. But if you plan on coming home, you should know you have a few journalists and photographer-type people camped outside your house. Not sure how they figured out where you live. They’ve tried to get half the town to tell them anything about you, but everyone has been tight-lipped as far as I know.”
Well fuck.
“Between you, me, and a fence post, we are planning on coming home ASAP. That might change things, though. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, love you, big brother; let me know if you need anything.”
