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“So, what’s the plan for the next three weeks?” she asks.
“I’ll have phone conferences and live events on Facebook I can do from my living room, and other than that, I’m yours. We’ll have to stay cooped up in my house, though.”
Stolen moments, cooped up in my house, that’s all I can offer her right now, and I hope to God it will be enough.
“That’s such a hardship, I’m telling you. The place is a small palace.”
Yeah, but that palace still has four walls and a six-feet thuja fence surrounding it. Stay inside long enough, and you’ll wish to be anywhere else. But especially after the incident this afternoon, I can’t risk exposing her. She deserves the world damn it, and I want to lay it at her feet. Which gives me an idea.
“I have a proposition for you. How about a getaway in the Bahamas next weekend? Or anywhere else.”
She perks up, her smile even wider than before. Bingo.
“Wait, is that safe?”
“Sure. We’ll rent a villa with private beach access, and not venture out.”
“You’d really just do that? Whisk me away somewhere?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“Well, I’d love to go. Wow. I haven’t been to the Bahamas. I can’t wait. Also... I can’t wait for you to make good on that heat level eleven kiss.”
I laugh, pinching her arm. “You have to work hard for that.”
She shifts in her seat, bringing her lips to my ear. I grip the steering wheel tight, making a concerted effort not to take my eyes off the road.
She tugs my earlobe between my teeth. “Hard like this?”
“That earns you a seven, at most.”
“You foul creature.”
“I know how to play my cards, Summer.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Summer
In the past, whenever I heard actors say “promotional tour,” I imagined flashy trips, hours upon hours of relaxing in a hotel spa before heading to interviews. Even the weeks before the tour officially starts are packed with phone interviews.
When Preston e-mailed Alex his tour schedule, he shared it with me too, so I know when he’s available to talk. He will run a tight schedule from six o’clock in the morning until ten at night. His free time will consist of fifteen-minute windows every two hours. Except for our amazing trip to the Bahamas, he’s been working all the time.
“Are these work hours even legal?” I ask as we look at his schedule, curled up on his couch, three evenings before he’s set to leave for the tour.
“You sound like Sophie.”
“Well, I happen to think your sister is right.” She and her family stopped by quite a few times over the last few weeks, and on a few occasions, we might have banded together against Alex. For his own good, of course.
“I can’t complain. Paycheck’s decent.” With a chuckle, he adds, “But your indignation is cute.”
“Well, I hope they keep masseurs on call for you. Male masseurs.”
“So if they send sexy blondes, you’d rather I continue suffering from a stiff neck?”
I consider that for a moment. “I’m conflicted. I want the best for you, but I don’t want anyone touching all this.” I run my hands over his shoulders, down his chest. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. I can give you advance massages.”
“I like how your mind works.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “You little opportunist. You just want to touch me.”
