Make Me Yours (Bridgewater County 5)

She took a bite of meat, nodded. “True. It was more for Chris than me. He needed more attention and I was it.”

“So they used you.”

I shrugged. “That’s the industry.”

“To make you have a fiancé? That’s pushing it.”

“The media came up with that on their own. We didn’t date. Not really. Just went out with some people as a group. I don’t even like him. I never really did.”

I wasn’t sure if I should feel angry or sorry for her. “Why didn’t you just say no? Tell the truth and do your own thing?”

“I was too busy with work to really care. I don’t pay attention to the tabloids. My sister, Ann Marie, does, but I avoid it since it’s all speculation and innuendo.”

“Send the media a note. Or a phone call.”

“They’ll spin it,” she replied. “Any way to sell magazines.” She sighed, poked at her cornbread with her fork. “I work fifteen hour days until the filming is done. Then, once that’s over, I do press junkets. That’s why I was in Asia. Instead of writing that our relationship had grown cold, they’d said we’d gotten engaged. I was mad about that, but finding Chris had thrown a party, trashed my house and fucked a blonde, I’d had enough.” She sounded more angry and bitter than sad, and that was a good thing. She’d been a doormat for her PR people. No, not a doormat. A pawn, and she’d let them. It didn’t seem like she was going to let that happen any longer. I was glad of it, and if she needed help standing up to this asshole who used her so fucking badly, to anyone else, we’d have her back.

“That’s why I’m here. To get away. To figure out what I want to do.”

Colt grunted, took a ruthless bite of his corn on the cob.

“So you’re no longer fake engaged?” I asked.

“I have no idea. I’m not going online and my sister didn’t mention anything when I talked to her earlier. At a minimum, people are going to comment on my change of hair color.”

“I can’t picture you blonde,” I said, running my hand over her head, feeling the silky strands. I knew she was a natural brunette; the little landing strip above her pussy was a gorgeous dark shade.

“You haven’t watched TV. Or seen the Internet, or stood in the grocery check-out line to see the difference. Or any of the other things said about me.”

“That bad, huh?” Colt asked.

“That bad,” she repeated, taking a bite of her baked beans.

“You’ll stay with me,” Colt said.

“Us,” I corrected. “Either at my house in town or at Colt’s cabin on his property. Nowhere else. Your cabin’s not safe with those looney bins at the ranch.”

“Matt and Ethan will ensure your privacy,” Colt added. “But I’d feel better if we could watch out for you.”

“You can’t protect me all the time,” she countered.

“Oh? Why not? That’s our job now,” I added. She was ours and we protected our woman.

Her mouth fell open in obvious surprise.

“Don’t you have to work?” she asked, glancing between the two of us. I expected her to ask after my not-so-subtle statement about our role in her life, but she avoided it. That was fine. For now. This wasn’t the place to continue our talk about more with her.

“I don’t,” I told her. “My next group comes in next week.”

“I’ll make arrangements to take a few days off,” Colt said. “I’m sure Matt and Ethan will want personal protection for the rest of your stay. Me.”

“Us,” I corrected, again.

She put her fork down, took a sip of her lemonade. “You really want to do that? I can just stay in my cabin and read.”

No fucking way. I shook my head. “That’s not fair to you.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t because she was amused. “I learned that life isn’t fair a long time ago. Rich and famous means my life’s an open book. Remember, those people thought I was Jane. Not Lacey.”