Ship-Wrecked (Love Is... Book 6) Page 3

  River texts me at 6:45 to let me know that he’s close but he got a little turned around. I told him that my house was notoriously hard to find, considering it’s in an unmarked gated community at the end of another residential street. I help him navigate his way to the right place; he was just a couple of streets off, and once the security guard calls to let me know that he let River in, I start to pace.

  The headlights shine in through my office window, and I take a few deep breaths and try to calm myself down, because there’s absolutely no reason to be this way.

  It’s a business deal, that’s it. River and I are coworkers, striving towards a common goal.

  Yeah, that’s how I’m going to look at it.

  He rings the doorbell and Gigi goes wild, completely flipping her shit as she runs circles around the front door. I let her go for about thirty seconds, not wanting to hurry to greet him like I’d been waiting, even though that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

  I open the door and he’s standing there in a casual button-down and a pair of jeans, holding a bag of Thai food that is way too big for two people. Yet another point in my book for my new fake boyfriend.

  “Hi,” I say, sounding a little breathless.

  He gives me this soft, friendly smile in return. “Hi.” He picks up the dog in his free arm, and follows me back into the kitchen.

  “We can eat in the kitchen or in the living room, maybe out on the back porch, although—”

  He puts the bag down on the island and touches my forearm, which instantly calms me and shuts me up. I don’t flinch like I did yesterday, I just take a calming breath. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  “I know, I’m not nervous.”

  He raises his brow.

  “Okay, I’m nervous. I’ve just never had a fake date before, not counting the two times I thought I was on a date but wasn’t.”

  He laughs, a low rumble. “Sounds like their loss to me.”

  “You know what? It was.”

  I walk over and take a couple of plates out of my cupboard, then dig into the bag. There’s one container of Pad See Ew, then another container of Pad See Ew, some chicken satay, some spring rolls, and an order of drunken noodles.

  He gives me a sheepish look. “I’ve been training for this role I’m going out for that involves a lot of shirtlessness. Today’s my cheat day and maybe I went a little overboard on the carbs.”

  “In my world you went just right on the carbs. Pad See Ew’s my favorite, good call.”

  “Mine too. I don’t like Pad Thai, it’s the bean sprouts.”

  “I know! What a weird, unwelcome crunch.”

  He nods. “Exactly.” He gives the dog a few more pets, then puts her down, much to her chagrin.

  “Sorry about that. You’ve made a friend for life; anytime you have a free arm or a free lap to sleep on, she’s gonna want it.” I look over at her, wanting the two of us to be able to eat in peace. “Go lay down.”

  She doesn’t listen the first time, but does on the second, the cute little pain in the ass.

  “I guess it’s good that she likes you,” I say, reaching into a drawer to pull out some silverware. I crack open one of the containers and portion it out on our plates. “She didn’t like Cam, and that should’ve been a huge warning sign.”

  His fist clenches for just a second, then he opens up the satay. “There are too many assholes just like him running around in the world. At least he got exposed, although I’m sorry that you got hurt in the process.”

  “That’s the upside to being a cautionary tale, I guess. Some really nice people I’ve never met have expressed their sympathy and sincere belief that he’s Satan incarnate, so that’s also nice to hear from strangers.”

  “Having strangers know intimate details of my private life is one of the weirder parts of this job.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I’ve had fans come up to me and ask me how my sister’s doing, when I didn’t even know it was common knowledge that I have one. Then I find out she actually has some…fan pages, I think they’re called. Luckily she gets a kick out of it.”

  “You have a sister? What’s her name?”

  “Casey,” he says with a smile. “She’s my assistant. You didn’t do any research on me? See what kinda demons I have in my closet?”

  “Is your sister a demon?”

  He laughs. “I thought so when I was little.”

  “Is she younger or older?”

  “Younger. Two years.”

  I nod. “Good to know. And no, I didn’t do any research on you, because I figured Claudia vetted you enough to be safe, and if there’s something you want me to know about you, I was hoping that you’d tell me yourself.”

  “I can do that,” he says, smiling softly. “Same for me. I didn’t go snooping, I was hoping you’d tell me anything you want me to know about you.”

  I walk over to the fridge and open it up. “I have seltzer, beer, orange soda, or the dregs of my last bottle of wine.” I look over my shoulder to see what he’d like.

  “I’ll take a beer, please.”

  I grab one for him and get a water for myself, then pop the top off on my counter top before I hand it to him. “Where would you like to sit?”

  “Where do you sit when you’re here alone relaxing?”

  “Relaxing? Ha! When I’m being lazy, I just eat on the couch.”

  “Let’s eat on the couch, then.”

  We grab our provisions and I lead him into the living room, where I take my favorite spot on the corner piece, then curl up with my plate on my lap.

  “Make yourself at home,” I tell him. “Feet on the furniture is fine as long as your shoes are off.”

  He doesn’t take me up on the offer, but he does sit with his body facing me, his leg hiked up on the cushion. Gigi takes that as her cue to jump up and get settled in the crook of his leg.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Let me get her down.”

  “No,” he says, sliding his hand down her back. “She’s fine.”

  I have to admit, she looks pretty cute there. I’m only able to resist the urge to grab my phone for about thirty seconds, then I snap a quick one and save it to my camera roll.

  “So, how about you?” he asks, poking at a noodle. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  I hold up my phone and show him the pic on my home screen. “That’s my brother Beckett and his wife, Macy. And those are my parents.”

  He holds onto the edge of the phone to get a good look, then digs his out of his pocket. He shows me his home screen, and I feel a little silly for getting jealous over a picture that was obviously taken with his sister. The resemblance is remarkable now that I’m able to get a good look at it.

  “That’s Casey?” I ask.

  He nods. “Yep.”

  “What about your parents? Where are they?”

  He slides the phone back in his pocket. “They passed away a while ago. It’s just me and Casey now.”

  My heart deflates. I reach over and touch him, gliding my thumb across his warm skin. It feels natural to reach out and comfort him like this. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. They died in a car accident when I was a teenager. We stayed with an aunt who was really great until I got my first big job and the checks started rolling in. It’s been just the two of us for a while now, us against the world.”

  “You guys must get along really well.”

  “Now we do. That took awhile.”

  If I were his only sister, I don’t know how I’d feel about the kind of arrangement the two of us worked out. I’m not sure I want to know, but I feel like it’s better to find out what I’m up against if River’s going to be a part of my life for the next five months.

  “What does she think about us? What we’re doing?” I say, not really sure how to phrase it.

  “She really wants to meet you.”

  That surprises me. “Wants to let me know she’ll kill me if I hurt you, that kind o
f thing?”

  He laughs. “Maybe a little. But she means well.”

  I nod. “I know the feeling. My dad’s retired and doesn’t really have any experience in the industry, but they moved out here with me and he’s sort of an honorary member of my management team. He makes sure I don’t get screwed over.”

  “No one will look out for you like your family,” he agrees.

  We make small talk while we eat. He asks me about the house, I ask him where he lives, he asks me were I’m from, then tells me a few cute stories about him and Casey when they were growing up. I find myself liking River quite a bit, which is good for the showmance, and bad for the part of me that is developing the slightest hint of a crush. He’s good-looking and sweet, loves my dog and cares about his family. It’s like a cocktail of goodness designed specifically for me.

  I have to keep reminding myself that the only thing that’s real about this is the expiration date in March.

  “So the premiere that we’re going to on Friday,” he says, putting his empty plate on the table, “what’s the movie called?”

  My cheeks heat because the title makes the story sound a lot lamer than it actually is. “It’s called Lover’s Lane. It’s about this guy who loses everything and has to return home to live in the town he grew up in. He falls in love with the girl-next-door, who’s me. It’s a romantic comedy.”

  “Yeah, I figured that,” he laughs.

  “I might have to repay you for sitting though it.”

  “Believe it or not, I do like rom-coms. I like a little bit of everything, honestly. I have a whole room at home dedicated to my movie collection. Casey makes fun of me for being kind of anal about it, because I have it organized by genre and sub-genre, but I figure we’re all allowed to geek out about something.”

  “I geek out about lip gloss, and while I don’t have a whole room dedicated to it, I do have a whole dresser dedicated to it, which is…excessive.”

  “Hey, I won’t judge.”

  “So, you’re a movie buff, huh? Is that why you want to switch genres?”

  He rests his elbow on the back of the couch and makes himself more comfortable. “It’s good work, don’t get me wrong. And I think there’s intrinsic value in action movies and popcorn flicks, something audiences can turn their brains off to watch. We need that, it’s just…not the most satisfying work for me personally. And I’d like to take some chances to add some longevity to my career if I can. There’s only so long I can run down Maseratis on the streets of Tokyo,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh.

  “You can do that longer than I can be the leading lady. In ten years I’m going to be playing the mother of a person who’s only five years younger than me in real life, mark my words. A woman’s appeal in Hollywood has the shelf life of a banana. Not many of us have lasting desirability.”

  He licks his lips and maybe I’m imagining it, but it feels like he leans imperceptibly closer. “I don’t think you have an issue with lasting desirability, Skye.” And the thing is, he looks like he means it.

  “Oh, you’re good. We aren’t going to have any trouble fooling people at all if I can get my act together.”

  His eyebrows crinkle together. “Oh,” he says, putting his bottle on the table next to his plate. “We’re both actors, we can act, right? So…how about when we’re out in public, we just act like our characters are falling in love instead of acting like we’re falling in love. Does that make sense?”

  Our livelihood is based on us being able to slip in and out of being someone else. I hadn’t really considered making public Skye a different character than private Skye, silly as that sounds. Being able to compartmentalize this will definitely make things easier.

  “It does. Fake Skye loves long walks on the beach and breakfast in bed on mornings after,” I say, going full cliche in this character study. “She sings at the top of her lungs in the shower, and you record it sometimes and post it on Instagram to embarrass her.”

  “That sounds like something Fake River would do. He tries to make you breakfast in bed but always fails spectacularly, then runs out and gets bacon and waffles from a brunch spot downtown. You pretend like you don’t know that’s what he’s doing.”

  “Wow, I love that for us. We sound like a cute fake couple.”

  He laughs. “We do.”

  “We’ll really sell it.”

  “We will,” he replies with a smile.

  We talk for a little while longer, and I reveal my secret love for video games. He makes me show him my collection, and we play a few very competitive rounds of golf before I pull out this pre-release racing game a friend sent over. He beats my ass in every race but one, and I’m kind of suspect that he let me win that one. We take Gigi on a short walk, and he tells me about the time he tore his ACL when he fell off a motorcycle during filming.

  He stays until the early morning hours, and when it’s time for him to go, I’m actually sad to see him leave. We talk in my driveway a little longer, and before he gets in his truck, he wraps me up in a tight hug.

  It feels like exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  Chapter Five

  I’m so busy on the day of the premiere that I don’t have time to get too worried about what’s going to happen on the red carpet tonight. In a way this day-long preparation has always been a blessing to me, because I tend to get in my head too much and having something else to focus on helps me to not be worked up to eleven when it’s time to leave the house.

  My hair and makeup people fuss over me, and my stylist’s favorite seamstress spends a good hour doing last-minute alterations on this gold and black embroidered dress that we picked out for me to wear. Once everyone leaves, I take a moment to really appreciate the work that they’ve done.

  My waves are pushed back in a messy bun, and my strappy, flirty heels are the most comfortable ones I’ve ever had the pleasure of putting on my feet. My makeup is perfect in that way that it only ever is when I pay someone to do it. I’m ready to take on the world, and I feel like tonight’s gonna be a great night.

  Kendall took Gigi for the night so that I didn’t have to worry about her getting underfoot, so the only warning I have that the limo has pulled up out front is the doorbell. I fuss with my hair a little more, then open the front door to see River looking jaw-droppingly handsome in a suit that looks like it was tailor-made for him. His tie has an intricate design on it that matches the one on my dress so perfectly that I can only assume Keith and Claudia put our stylists in touch with each other.

  I haven’t seen him since the other night, but we have spoken on the phone and texted each other. Still, seeing him in person gives me this weird sense of relief, like some off-kilter part of my life has shifted into place.

  “Wow,” he says. “You…you’re stunning. Gorgeous.” He takes a step forward and presses a kiss on my cheek. His stubble is deliciously scratchy, and I fight the urge to grab hold of his tie and hold him here for just a little longer because his warmth feels nice and he smells amazing.

  “Thank you. You look great yourself,” I compliment him, reaching up and brushing some non-existent lint off of his lapel. Because I can’t help myself, I also straighten his already straight tie. I’m glad he took the initiative to dress up, because you never know about men when it comes to movie premieres. They show up dressed to the nines or looking like slobs; rarely is there an in-between.

  We smile at each other longer than is probably normal, until Claudia yells from the back of the limo that we’re going to be late.

  I grab my purse off the table to my left and lock up. When I turn, River offers me his hand, and I take it.

  “Remember, you like long walks on the beach and breakfast in bed on mornings after,” he says, smiling at me, reminding me of the roles that we’re supposed to be playing.

  “And you try to make me that breakfast in bed and fail so spectacularly that you have to go pick up bacon and waffles from a bunch spot downtown.”

  He opens the door
for me, and I slide in first, taking a seat across from Claudia and Keith.

  “You guys look great,” Claudia says, looking up from something she’s doing on her phone. “The cameras are gonna love you.”

  I look over at River, who offers me his best encouraging smile, and off we go.

  “Remember,” Claudia says as we pull up outside the theater. “Act natural. Love each other, love the cameras, and we’ll take care of the rest. Don’t stress.”

  I want to tell her that there’s no possible way we could forget any of this, since she and Keith have been hammering it home the entire 45-minute ride over. What to say, how to look at each other, which reporter is going to ask us the question, how they’re going to distribute the pictures later.

  She’s stressing me out more than the looming press line is.

  It’s a relief when she and Keith get out of the car to go do whatever they’re going to do to prep people for our arrival while we circle the block a few times.

  “Can you believe we pay them for this?” River asks.

  “At the moment, no.” I start fidgeting like I always do before things like this, it’s a nervous tic that I developed that I can’t quite get hold of. Normally my family would be here to calm me down, but Beckett and Macy couldn’t come down from Port City, and my parents are off at a wedding in Italy. I didn’t want to tear Kendall away from her work, and tonight should be focused mainly on River and me, so…I’m just left to my own devices.

  I try not to pick at my nails, because they’re the easiest target. River notices the movement, and reaches over and threads his fingers through mine. It’s practice, maybe, but it also feels like a gesture meant to comfort, and it does.

  I take a deep breath. “Fake Skye hates red carpets, and Real Skye doesn’t like them very much either. So we’re both battling against the tide over here,” I tell him.

  “What do you hate about them?”

  “The people calling my name, never knowing where to look, worrying about whether I’m going to say something stupid or if my picture is going to be splashed everywhere tomorrow with lipstick all over my teeth.”