Million-Dollar Consequences

Six

Meghan sucked down a swallow of beer, which was refreshing after the dry red wine they’d enjoyed at dinner.

Isaac was doing his best to set her at ease, a kindness that hadn’t gone unnoticed. She could kiss him for it. And she would, too. Just as soon as her tummy stopped leaping in delicious anticipation of what was to come.

Their made-for-TV romance was beginning to feel very real. She was all for having fun and squeezing every bit of pleasure from her time with him, but she also wanted to be one hundred percent present and ready. She didn’t want to forget a single moment with him.

“Nice place you have here.” She walked to the wide windows overlooking downtown.

“I like it.” His low voice was just over her shoulder, his warm breath on her exposed neck when he added, “The glass is tinted. No one can see you.”

He smelled like leather and sandalwood with the faintest hint of citrus. As if he’d bottled the scent of his private island.

“No mountain view for you?” She turned her head, and her lips came dangerously close to colliding with his. His gaze trickled to her mouth briefly before he answered her.

“I like to be in the middle of the action. And above a deli, since I don’t cook.”

“Me neither. If dinner doesn’t have microwave instructions, it’s too much work.”

“Agree one hundred percent. We’re a match made in take-out heaven, Squire.”

Her heart thudded when he smiled at her that way. He was so attractive. And attainable. Meeting him was a childhood fantasy come alive. Touching him, and him touching her, was an adult fantasy she hadn’t known she’d been allowed to have. Needing another moment to compose herself, she reminded him of what he’d mentioned earlier.

“You mentioned coaching me for my first role?”

“I did, though I’m not sure you need it. You have the beautiful, fun and well-dressed part down.”

Complimented beyond repair, she was uncharacteristically speechless.

“As long as you are comfortable holding my hand in public, and maybe a kiss or two for the fans, you have this role on lock. Just pretend you like me.”

“Pretend.” She emitted a delicate snort, which made her laugh behind her hand. “Isaac. I like you.”

Closer to her now, he tipped his head. “I like you, too.”

Pick her up off the floor, because she was pretty sure she’d fallen dead at his feet. “You do?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “That leaves one loose end. We have to make sure we’re on the same page with our stories.”

“Oh, right.” It would make sense that they’d know about each other’s pasts if they were actually dating.

“So, tell me.” He paused to take a swig of beer. “About the dickheads you’ve dated in the past.”

“One stands out above the rest,” she muttered. Her dry delivery surprised Isaac. His mouth and eyebrows rose as he laughed. “What about you?”

“I’ve dated a lot. Not as much as you’ve seen online. A lot of times I’m photographed with cast, crew or a random barista. If she’s a woman around my age, the speculation begins.”

“That sucks.” She couldn’t imagine being romantically tied to a guy simply because he was within proximity.

“We should talk about how we met.”

“At Rocky’s?”

“I was referring to the fictitious way we met. I’m on record saying we fell for each other on my private island, so we should stick with that. Why were you there?”

“Easy. Kendall introduced us around the time she took you on as a client.”

“When Lou retired,” he said of his former agent. “Perfect timing.”

“You thought it’d be a good idea for me to come with you while you prepared for your role. I offered to record a podcast to release closer to the show’s release.”

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

Her voice rose excitedly as she continued weaving their made-up history. “While I was there, we spent more time together, not cooking, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“Then one night on the beach while we were watching the sun set, you held my hand.”

“Like this?” He clasped her fingers with his.

She swallowed around a lump in her throat, nodding since she was incapable of speaking for a handful of seconds. “Then, on the beach, while we were listening to the waves roll in, you realized you were smitten.”

“Is that so?” He took her beer bottle and set it with his on the high sofa table. When he returned to stand in front of her, he was a breath away. Chest to chest, he angled his chin down to take her in as her heart raced.

Her bravado found her all at once. She met his eyes unerringly and slow-blinked. “How could you not be?”

“How, indeed.” The two words preceded him leaning in, his lips hovering over hers. Nothing was between them save the exhalation she’d just released. He cupped her jaw. “Who kissed who that first time?”

“You,” she breathed.

The kiss was sudden, insistent. She made a sound in the back of her throat when his fingers tunneled into her hair. He wasn’t ravaging her but savoring her. The pressure he used as he slid his lips over hers suggested a hunger barely reined in. He touched his tongue to hers and her knees wobbled. But there was no way she was going to lose her balance or her mind during this exchange. She was going to savor him right back.

Fisting his shirt, she yanked him closer. He was tall, but so was she. She didn’t have to strain her neck as she made out with him, which meant they could continue making out for a long, long time.

Oh, that sounds lovely.