I lean over and kiss Mama on the cheek, noticing that I’m getting the same wrinkle she has right along her smile line. How lucky am I? “Yeah. Maybe we’ll start with hanging our feet in the pool.”
“I’d love that!” Mama bounces up, clapping with delight, her face glowing. “Let me find you a suitable swimsuit. And none of those California strings you call bikinis!”
Daddy mutters something aboutdress codesandrespectabilityas Mama hurries inside. Aunt Mabel winks at me before turning back to critique my father’s grilling technique.
While they’re distracted, my phone buzzes with another article about Felix. I can’t wait to get back to LA and change the narrative.
But even more, I can’t wait to get back to Dante.
With everyone occupied, I pull up the camera app. It’s golden hour and my skin is cast in a bronze glow. I let the ruffle strap of my sundress slip ever so slightly off my shoulder and capture the perfect angle where sunlight kisses skin. I send it to Dante.
Dante
You’re making it difficult to focus on these insufferable children and their swords.
Reese
It’s a shoulder.
Dante
Your shoulder has a freckle I’ve never noticed before. I’m getting hard looking at it.
Reese
Very naughty, Mr. Hastings.
Chapter 27
Reese
September 25th
Top Action Director Quits Mid-Filming After Clash with On-Set Diva!
My heart tap-dancesat the sight of Dante. He’s at the bottom of the front steps of my LA home, ready to pick me up for our first public outing—Jaxon Elio’s birthday party.
The universe has a twisted sense of humor because he’s even more unfairly gorgeous than he was a week ago. His velvet suit looks like it was plucked off the runway. His dark hair is pushed out of his face.
If I were a stick of butter, I’d melt right here on these steps.
He ascends toward me, extending his hand. His nails are freshly polished, and each finger is adorned with a silver ring.
I internally combust, every neuron in my body dialed up to ten thousand. I don’t just want him; I need him with an aching pleasure.
My fingers interlace with his.
I hear theclick click clickof cameras. The paparazzi have multiplied like rabbits on fertility drugs, their lenses shoved through my wrought iron gates.
Each flash feels like a spotlight, and I silently rehearse my role.Be bad, be bold, be like Robyn.
My mind races with the potential headlines:Good Girl Gone Robyn Hood Bad.Or maybe just,Good Girl Finally Living Her Life.
“Three-quarter profile,” he whispers against my ear, making it look like sweet nothings. “They love that angle on you.” I’m starting to love him directing me. “Looking sharp,” I say, running my finger down his jacket lapel.
“With you on my arm tonight, had to make sure I earned it,” he drawls, opening the limo door for me. “Sorry, Dad—shotgun’s calling your name,” Dante says to Ramsey, who gives me his patentedAre you sure about this?look.
“I’m good, Rams.”
