Page 221 of Promise Not to Fall for the Rich & Famous

As Ellie sat on a stump beside Nash, whittling her roasting stick with her brand-new pocketknife, she had the great urge to tell him just how much this all meant to her.

"Hey, Nash?” she started, gently letting the side of her leg graze his.

Nash made another flick with his blade before looking up at her. He'd removed his cowboy hat, and a lock of hair had tumbled over his forehead where it obscured part of one eye. Still, he held her gaze as that feeling of gratitude and something she couldn't quite place bloomed and swelled.

"Thank you for this. Really, I don't know if anybody's ever done something this nice for me."

"You’re welcome."

The conflicted look in his eyes said he was holding something back, but Ellie wouldn’t press. She’d revealed some unsavory aspects of her life, and as much as she’d like to change a lot of those things, mainly the way her dad had run her career, Ellie knew she’d defend him if it came down to it. Nash was probably too much of a gentleman to make her do that.

Ellie recalled her meeting with the caseworker. It had gone well. Geneva had great things to say about Ellie’s progress, and Tucker, who’d jotted a few lines about that progress as well, had agreed. She hadn’t spoken to her dad since the drive there, but he’d been part of the Zoom call too, and said he was proud of her and excited to tell the studio that she’d have no problem making it to Dallas in time for the filming.

He also admitted that Geneva had let slip that she’d been spending time with “one of the cowboys there at the ranch.”The lecture she expected on that note never came. In fact, Dad sounded surprisingly pleased about it, saying she was getting into Melody’s character already. Then, before disconnecting, he’d said he was writing up a new contract. One he felt Ellie would be very happy with.

Ellie wanted to think he was drawing up the new contract with her in mind, but deep down, she knew it was Dad’s attempt to avoid any repercussions from Ellie’s threat to seek legal help.

Dad always was a slippery one, narrowly escaping the consequences that everyone else seemed to pay. Ellie didn't like admitting that she'd enabled him for far too long, staying quiet while he took more than his cut and demanded more from her than was right.

Not that someone so wealthy and famous could complain, of course…

"A penny for your thoughts."

Ellie glanced over at Nash as his comment pulled her from her musings. "What was that?"

"Well," he said with a nod toward her speared marshmallow. "You punctured that thing five minutes ago, but you have yet to put it over the coals."

Ellie looked over to see Nash’s perfectly golden marshmallow. He gave her a triumphant grin and tapped the surface to demonstrate the crisp outer coat. “I'll share with you. But then you'll have to share yours in return."

Ellie glanced down at the jumbo-sized marshmallow, which was definitely big enough to share. "Okay, it's a deal."

Nash extended the stick until the toasted treat was within reach. "You first. It's not too hot anymore. Just slide it right off the spear."

Ellie leaned her roasting stick against the stump and did that very thing. She bit into the warm, perfectly roasted treat, and the sweet flavor coated her tongue. "Mmm…" she said, handing the remainder back to Nash. “Why doesn't anyone serve these in restaurants? Of all the expensive desserts I've ordered over the years, this comes out on top."

"So you’re saying I'm a good cook,” Nash said before finishing off the marshmallow.

A laugh got caught in her throat. "I’m saying you’re an excellent campfire cook. So far, that’s all I can vouch for."

"Fair enough. But you should see what I can do on the grill."

“Grills intimidate me,” Ellie admitted. “I have one, of course, but my private chef’s the only one who uses it.” She didn’t elaborate, didn’t want to invite any more of her home life into the conversation. It was one thing to casually discuss the parts of her life he’d admitted to seeing when he said earlier that week that he’d enjoyed several of her movies. And while their different lifestyles and backgrounds were definitely part of the draw, she worried that if he knew the extent of their differences, it could create a chasm between them instead.

That was the last thing she wanted to do. This had been the best date of Ellie's life. In many ways, it’d been the best week of her life, too. All week long, she’d imagined kissing those full, fantastic lips of his. And while she appreciated the fact that Nash was such a gentleman, she hoped she’d get the chance tonight.

Once they’d finished making and eating their chocolatey s'mores, the fire no more than an ember’s glow, Nash reached for Ellie’s hand.

She grinned, placed it in his, and Nash sandwiched it with his other palm. Ellie sighed, enjoying the warmth and comfort that spread through her at the gesture.

"Would you ever consider leaving acting behind?” he asked softly, surprising her.

Ellie leaned in slightly, her knees brushing his. This was the chasm she worried about. She didn’t want Nash to hold back because he thought they couldn’t have a future.

America knew nothing about Ellie’s desire to leave Hollywood behind, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t confide in him about it. It washerlife, after all. Besides, she hadn’t been quiet about her desire for something more, something outside of the life she’d grown used to.

Ellie considered the contract Geneva told her about—the unseen carrot her dad planned to dangle over her head. Hopefully, it would offer that very thing.

"Believe it or not,” she said, resting her other hand on Nash’s knee, “I'm working on it."