Charming Like Us (Like Us 7)

“Keep me updated,” I banter with a smile. A cool gust blowing through, I shiver and zip up my outer-layer of the winter jacket and fix the baseball cap on my head.

Oscar kicks off from the railing, fitting his paperback in a back pocket. “Still can’t believe you packed that hat and not a beanie.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” I shake my head, remembering. “Something distracted me when I was packing.” I see his confusion as he approaches, so I come clean. “The other execs heard that I had no footage of the girls at the pub, and they asked me what happened.”

“You tell them paparazzi encroached your space?” He tugs down the zipper of his jacket and unspools a scarf around his neck.

“No.” I tense. “I lied.” I run a hand through my hair four or five times.

“You lied?” Oscar looks shocked. “Have you ever lied to them before?”

“Never,” I say strongly. “But I knew if I told them the truth, they might limit my involvement in shoots, and it’s important to me to be the camera operator for Jane, Sulli, and Moffy.”

“Why?”

“They trust me,” I explain. “We’re all friends, and if I had to sit out, it feels like a loss for them and me. And maybe it’s pride too.” I crack a dying smile. “I’ve never been kicked off a project. So I lied and said the equipment malfunctioned.”

Oscar nods a few times. “I probably would’ve done the same thing.” That actually makes me feel a bit better, but his face is serious. “So they’re off your ass?”

“Yeah.”

He’s still tense like me. “I hate that being with me is affecting your job this fucking terribly. It wasn’t supposed to be like this—”

“It’s okay, Os.” I rest my hands on my head, really on the blue baseball hat. “The pros outweigh the cons.” I flash a smile at him. “You’re my pro.”

He grins. “I am a pro at many things.” He slowly twists his scarf around my exposed neck. “Like keeping you warm, Long Beach.”

I blaze inside, our eyes trailing hot tracks over each other. I drop my arms to his shoulders, and he spins the brim of my hat backwards. Just to lean in and kiss me.

Our mouths meet with a slow build-up of prickling heat. My fingers slip up into his soft hair, our bodies singing with primal pleasure against each other. Every kiss feels like we’re spinning in 360-degrees. Blood rushes out of my head, dizzying. Exhilarating.

And then he clutches my jaw too hard. Where a bruise formed.

I wince between my teeth.

Oscar breaks a kiss. “Sorry.”

I breathe hard.

His concern tightens on me. “Was that…here?” His thumb brushes the tender skin along my jawline. A Canon made impact with my chin. Paparazzi hazard.

“Yeah.” I try to catch my breath. Partly in need of oxygen because I’m too attracted to this guy. Partly because of the media mess we left behind. Hot, I unravel the scarf and let the ends hang against my chest.

He glares at the deck, then at the icebergs. “I’m not sure I can protect you and Charlie at the same time, and it’s driving me nuts.”

“You’ve done enough.” He’s caught more than one projectile headed for me.

His eyes return to the bruise on my jaw. “Let’s go count your bruises, Highland.”

I let out a weak laugh. “I’m not delicate like you think. This is now a casualty of my job, and I’m choosing to stick it out.” I grip his shoulders. “I’m not going to pretend to be a bodyguard. I’m not one. I probably can’t hit a man to save my life, but your job is to protect Charlie. Just let me film.”

He nods, then grins, “Did I just get a Jack Highland pep talk?”

I begin to smile. “Did you like it?”

“I didn’t like the part where you put yourself down,” he admits. “If you need to hit a man to save your life, I know you could save yourself, Highland.” He turns my hat straight but lifts up the brim. “But I’ll be your hottest back-up.”

I believe that.

He reaches for my hand. “Come here, I want to show you something.” He brings me to the edge of the deck, our elbows meeting the railing. The sun hovers just above the horizon, casting an orange glow on the sea. “Check the time.”

I pull out my cell and click into the local time.

No?

“That can’t be right,” I whisper.

“It is.” His mouth curves. “Midnight.” He leans a hip against the railing. “It’s called a midnight sun. It only happens during the summer in places around the Arctic and Antarctic Circles.”

Wow.

My eyes try to paint the portrait in front of me. The sun coasting along the teal iceberg-scattered sea. A whale splashes in the distance, spraying water overhead.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmur.

“Charlie asked me where I wanted to go,” he breathes. “I wanted you to see this.”