Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection 2)

Lowell

I took a deep breath and waited for our turn to get out of the car. A nervous pit formed in my stomach as I looked at Kyle. His brown hair was thick and artfully messy; his green eyes were sparkling, and his tanned and rugged chest peeked out from underneath the dress shirt he'd changed into. He was good-looking enough to be an actor, honestly. He would fit right in.

That was just fucking perfect.

I had no plans to let him stay for long. We were going to walk in together and preen for the press, but after that, I would show Kyle the door. His father had been married to my mother. We'd lived under the same roof from the time I was ten to the time I was fourteen. If the press got a hold of that story, I might as well pack my bags, sell my Prius, and buy a bus ticket back to Texas, where I could live out my life in twang-filled obscurity.

I looked at him as he watched the crowd outside. He didn't seem nervous, but that didn't surprise me. Kyle had always been cocky as hell.

I'd told on him constantly when we were kids, but deep down, I'd always wanted him to like me. Partly because I was a pleaser and wanted everyone to like me. Mostly because he was handsome. But then he'd do something mean, like throw my book out of the car or call me a brace-face, and I would just want to wind my fingers around his pencil-neck and squeeze. And squeeze and squeeze and—

Kyle squeezed my hand. "You ready, princess?"

"Do we have to hold hands?" I asked, jerking my hand away from him uncomfortably. "And don't call me princess."

"I meant it as a term of endearment," Kyle said, calmly grabbing my hand again. He motioned to the throng of reporters lined up, elbowing each other and looking at our car excitedly. "Calm down, Lo, and hold my damn hand. We've got this. We've brought a cake for these people. We need to let them eat it."

I looked at him for a moment, confused. He almost sounded smart.

"Okay." I felt defeated. I couldn't believe I was listening to Kyle's logic after I'd rationalized hiring him based on my mother's logic.

There was no way this would end well.

I twined my fingers back through his. "Then let's let them eat cake."

I was certain I had no real idea what I was getting myself into.

* * *

For better or for worse, the press absolutely loved Kyle. We stopped and posed for every single photographer on our way in.

"Lowell, over here!" they yelled, flashes going off wildly.

"How's your head?" another one called.

"Who's this?" everyone wanted to know.

We smiled and preened and held each other. I was suddenly glad Kyle was there, which both surprised and annoyed me. I felt myself starting to sweat from the constant flashes going off all around me and all the questions being hollered, one on top of another. I'd grown accustomed to the attention of the press, but this had an urgency I wasn't used to.

Kyle, however, seemed completely in his element. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around me, and his smile glittered in every direction as we made our way down the carpet. I felt his strong, muscular body next to mine. I could tell that he could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder if he wanted to. If I wanted him to. If I let him. If… oh hell, I really needed that slap.

He stopped halfway down the carpet. "Hey"—he flashed a brilliant smile at a female reporter—"you're looking sharp this evening. Love the jacket."

"Aw, thanks." She grinned at him in a way she would never have at me. "It's vintage."

"That's Katie from XYZ," I whispered to him through gritted teeth.

"I know," he whispered back. "I've seen her on TV." He pulled me closer and asked me, loud enough for the press to hear, "It's a lovely jacket, isn't it, babe?"

"Yes," I said, awkwardly letting him hold me and inwardly cringing. I saw the XYZ reporter watching me. "You look great." I flashed her a megawatt smile.

"Good girl," Kyle said under his breath. "Let's give 'em a show." He called to her, "Don't y

ou think my girlfriend's looking lovely this evening as well?"

"Who are you?" Katie asked, her eyes widening in excitement. She could sense the opportunity for a scoop.

He kept his arm protectively around me. "I'm Kyle Jordan. Dedicated boyfriend of the one and only Lowell Barton." He smiled while a thousand flashes went off. "And I asked you if you agreed that my girlfriend is looking lovely this evening." He sounded as if he was challenging her.