Authors: Tina Reber
I had to laugh; both of them were examining us like pieces of art.
“Is it the hair?” Mike asked.
Ryan carefully touched one of the curls that touched my cheek. “No. I don’t think so,” he said reverently. “Your hair is perfect.”
I smiled. Marie and I had spent almost two hours at the hairdresser this morning getting dolled up.
Ryan was staring at my lips when he said, “What about the shoes, Mike?”
“Shoes?” Mike echoed. “Let me check.” He crouched down in front of Marie, lifting the hem of her dress to start his examination mid-thigh. I heard his lascivious groan from across the room. His fingers skated slowly down her thigh, pausing while he kissed her knee. I was watching him watching her. By the time he got down to her ankle, it had grown very warm in my living room. “Shoe’s good, Ryan.”
Yeah, their little game was working both of them into a lather.
I watched Ryan’s tongue slowly sweep across his bottom lip: wetting, inviting, taunting. Damn, I wanted to suck it into my mouth and end this teasing. He pulled me into his chest, drifting his nose near my neck. “God, you smell good.” He breathed into my ear. “Delicious.”
I felt his fingertips drift down my neck, following the square-cut neckline, causing my belly to flutter and tighten. He placed a small kiss at the bottom of my throat. “I’m thinking it’s the neck,” he whispered, grazing his teeth over my skin.
He rose up, slowly and deliberately. “Mike, check her neck.”
I grinned when he resumed his nuzzling. “You keep this up and you’ll have to make love to me instead of taking me to this wedding.”
I felt him smile. “Promise me you won’t turn crazy when we get married.”
I clutched his waist, feeling the liquid heat building low in my panties. “I promise.” He was so close; I could feel his erection. I caressed my hand over it. “Are you happy now? You have all of this and no time to play with it.”
He moaned. “That’s a present for later. I’m going to do you slowly tonight.”
Just as I started drifting off into that blissful image, I heard Marie squeal. She held a flat box.
“I have one for you, too.” Ryan slipped a hand into the back of his trousers and pulled out a thin, flat box with the iconic HW logo embossed on the lid.
My breath caught when I removed the felt covering. “Oh my God, Ryan! This is absolutely beautiful.” I touched the diamond wreath necklace, noticing the small
R
in white gold, dangling next to the clasp.
Marie’s wreath necklace was just as stunning, though it was a different design. And sure enough, dangling from the clasp of hers was an
M
.
“Did we just get collared?” Marie teased, touching the diamond necklace.
Ryan smirked. “Something like that.”
“You’ve got a problem being owned?” Mike asked her.
“By you?”
Mike took Marie’s hips into his strong hands, drawing her in. “Yeah. By me. You good with that?”
Her smile was priceless. “Oh, yeah. I’m real good with that.”
I heard a horn honking.
“I believe our ride is here,” Ryan said.
Just as I had expected, my alley was inundated with a swarm of paparazzi, caging in our black stretch limo. Despite what people might think about the luxury of riding in a stretch limo, they were actually a pain to crawl around in—especially with heels and a dress.
“Damn,” Ryan breathed out. “I thought we’d thrown them off with that posted appearance at Chateau Marmont. So much for that.”
Mike was the last one in. “Yep, didn’t work. I figured as much. Plan B is still in place.”
I entwined my hand with Ryan’s. “Plan B?”
He nodded. “We hired event security. That will keep them out of the church and out of the reception.”
“Does Pete know this?”
Ryan kissed my hand. “I called him a couple of days ago. It’s all arranged. Just remember how this goes. We need to keep ours completely exclusive and private.”
“Maldives,” Mike murmured.
Ryan gave him a nod in agreement.
The outside of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church was surrounded by a small mob. My heart sank. Our worst fears were coming true. Ryan squeezed my hand.
Mike held the door open for us. Marie was the second person out, blocking the photographers’ prying cameras.
Ryan and I had made it a few feet toward the church steps when he paused and turned us around. As if we were at any other public appearance, Ryan and I posed for the press. We turned, smiled, and gave them what they all so desperately wanted. Except that Ryan did not give out any autographs.
He tried to speak over the frenzy. “We are here to celebrate the wedding of dear friends. I hope you give them the courtesy of your respect and privacy today. Thank you.”
Inside the church, I had a private moment with Pete, which caused a few tears of happiness to fall from my eyes. We’d been through hell and back, enduring the ugly side of life together.
Marie walked down the aisle first. I could see she only had eyes for Mike, who didn’t know Pete from Adam, but who had willingly stepped up to be a groomsman to make this day special for them.
I took a step through the threshold, imagining making this walk on my day.
I saw Ryan draw in a quick breath; his smile was breathtaking, standing tall and proud near the altar, watching every step I took with nothing but love in his eyes.
I wanted to marry him now more than anything.
Face-off
In the five months following Pete and Tammy’s wedding, we’d been to California, Portugal, England, Louisiana, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and back to England while Ryan was filming the third
Seaside
.
Ryan’s planning and scheming had paid off. While he spent twelve- or even fourteen-hour days filming, I was happy and content spending time with my best friend. I had long ago come to know that Mike’s salary was paid mostly by the studios since personal security was written into Ryan’s contracts and it was part of his appearance rider and now that rider also included a security team. Marie had often joke with me that I was paying her to be my friend.
Marie and I kept ourselves very busy, planning on everything from home décor for the enormous house that was waiting for the spring thaw to be built to naming the production company Ryan and I wanted to start. Spending time hanging out with the cast and crew of
Seaside
also made the days blur and blend into one hell of a good time. I had taken over managing Ryan’s affairs, working like a personal assistant on most days. I didn’t mind; our hectic schedule and active social calendar kept me out of trouble.
I even found a new friend in Ryan’s lawyer, Len Bainbridge, when he helped me clear up the nearly $1 million estate that the sweet Jimmy Pop left behind. The Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles was very grateful when Ryan and I presented them with a check in Jimmy Pop’s memory.
That was a wonderful day.
Everything was going tremendously well at Mitchell’s Pub, too. Pete had hired several new staff members to support the growing demand for Tammy’s gourmet dishes that she was whipping up in the kitchen. Maggie, the elderly lady who owned the bakery opposite my pub—the one that Ryan had escaped through the first day that we met—was looking to retire and sell her store as well. Tammy had hired several people and was hoping to run the catering out of the bakery. So we were working on that plan.
Marie joked that I could run a multimillion-dollar corporation from my cell phone and laptop. I was starting to agree with her.
But now we were in Manhattan, getting ready to kick off the first day of press tours for the premiere of Ryan’s film
Thousand Miles
. We’d landed in New York yesterday and everything was going rather smoothly until we arrived for his press interviews and I spotted “them.” Suddenly my hands were sweaty, my senses were on high alert, it was hard to swallow, and I wished I was wielding a baseball bat—or better yet, Marie’s fancy black gun.
Ryan noticed
them
about twenty seconds after I did. His eyes narrowed as he assessed them, cursed, then he frowned down at me. I had no doubt that he’d drag me back to our hotel and force me to stay there if he had his choice.
I wrapped my hand into his, entwining our fingers into an unbreakable bond. “No way. We do this together.”
He was furious. “Figures Kyle would be here with her. I really want to hit him.”
I didn’t take my eyes off the doorway where they were standing. “Yeah? You take him. I’ve got her.”
Mike was busy dealing with the location’s shoddy security, so he was the last one to notice his former coworker milling about.
A young man who was part of the crew approached us, holding a small box with wires. “Mr. Christensen, I have your mic.” He clipped the small microphone onto Ryan’s shirt, fishing the wire beneath his clothes. Ryan lifted his arm so the guy could connect it to a small box that clipped to the back of Ryan’s pants.
David, Ryan’s manager, strolled over, twisting his Rolex. “Okay, Ryan. You and Lauren Delaney are scheduled to do a joint interview with Moviefone in about ten minutes and then you’ll do the rest of the press interviews individually. We have three interview rooms, so we’ll be moving the press around in ten-minute intervals with a break every hour.”
I couldn’t help but keep an eye on the other side of the room—on
them
.
“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” Ryan squeezed his water bottle, making the plastic crinkle from the pressure. “What’s the deal, Mike? I’m not liking this one bit,” he growled.
“Dunno. I know PSG relieved him of duty right after the incident. They wouldn’t hire him back—not after that breach. He must still be working private detail.” Mike leaned in closer. “Do you have a PFA on him?”
Ryan flashed another angry frown at me. “No.”
“I didn’t see a need to,” I said, sticking by my original decision.
“I want him to stay away from Taryn. He comes near her or gets in my face, I’ll kill him.” Ryan was dead serious. “I need to talk to Lauren before we start. Can you find out if he’s traveling the entire press junket with her?”
Mike nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
David ditched the woman organizing the press interviews after looking over in the direction of our heated stares; he was finally clued in to the situation. He stormed right back over to Ryan. “Christ. Not this shit again. Time to put your personal shit aside and be professional, Ryan. Perhaps Taryn should wait at your hotel until you’re finished so we don’t have any additional problems?”
Ryan glared at him. “I think it’s time we part ways, David.”
I was surprised that Ryan was doing this now.
David jerked back, aghast. “What?”
“You want to keep your fucking job? That’s the
last
time you dismiss my woman. We clear? I don’t need you to remind me or to tell me what to do.”
“I was merely suggesting that it might be wise to separate her from potential problems, that’s all.”
Ryan scoffed at him. “David, you’re so full of shit. I think it’s best if you just walked away before I fire you.”
The woman with the clipboard walked over. “Mr. Christensen, we’re ready to begin. You’ll be in Parlor A. If you’ll just follow me.” She ushered, pointing the way.
“Yeah, in a minute.” Ryan clutched my elbow. “Stay away from him. Find Trish and stick with Marie, okay?”
I gave him a kiss and went on a hunt for the ladies’ room. Straight down the wide hallway, I found a buffet table with bottles of water stuck in ice. Just when I thought I was safe I felt the little hairs prickle on my neck, sensing him before he stepped beside me.
“Taryn.”
No, no. Shit.
The closer he came the stronger the scent of his cologne became.
I decided to avoid a conflict and be considerate. “Kyle.”
He regarded me with a sideways glance. “You look well.”
I gripped a bottle tightly in my hand, feeling the cold moisture seep into my palm, matching the chill rolling down my spine. “Thank you.”
“I’ve seen you a few times but I haven’t had the opportunity to congratulate you on your engagement.”
I heard the faint strain in his voice from him trying to be sincere. I wanted to ignore him completely, but it was difficult, so I gave him a simple “thank you” instead.
“I heard Ryan was getting out of control there for a while, punching the paparazzi?”
I felt heat flame up my neck from him attempting to bait me. Of course he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to press my buttons. “When they climb up trees to intrude on our privacy, they deserve it. Besides, that’s old news.”
He took a swig of a bottle of water, contemplating my response. “I was just surprised that he’d mar his wholesome image like that.”
I glared at him. “Are you done?”
Kyle reached for a napkin. “Things could have been different, you know.”
“Yes, I could have sent you to jail.”
He snickered. “Still have your starch. Good. Very good.”
“Shouldn’t you be guarding a door or something? Surely you must be breaking protocol by leaving your woman unprotected.”
He leaned closer. “Should I be worried?”
I laughed. “Not in the least, though I highly doubt you being here is just a coincidence. I’m happy for you and Lauren. Really, I am.”
I heard a purr roll up his chest. “Now who’s being insincere? Or is there truly a hint of jealousy still lingering?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, no. Rest assured I feel no jealousy. None whatsoever. In fact, I’d say your partnership with that conniving bitch is a match made in heaven.”
He actually had the audacity to cat-growl at me. “And still so feisty, too.”
“What are you going to do, Kyle? Put me up against another wall to try to change my mind?”
He made a throaty sound of disgust and then turned toward me, his face painted with what truly looked like regret. “I hurt you. I know that. I get it. I know what I did was stupid and rash . . . I don’t expect you to believe me but I truly wanted to protect you.”
I wanted to slap him. “You’re lucky I didn’t have you arrested.”
“And I appreciate that. Look, I’ve kept my end of the deal. Have I bothered you at all since?”