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“I’ve always wanted to see the gardens at Versailles.”
She knew if this were a couple for one of their regular episodes she could take a few different angles. She could play up Axl’s military background, making sure the Marines factored into the reception theme. As for her, she would use her beauty pageant background, even though she had sucked at it. Because viewers would like that whole debutante, rich girl angle. She would clearly emphasize the two worlds colliding in their background. A woodsy outdoors Minnesota ceremony followed by a classic LA nightclub reception.
But that was for two strangers and she didn’t get the impression Axl wanted to be viewed as a military hero. She knew for damn sure she didn’t want to be seen as a rich girl debutante. So she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do for them. Fake or not, she wanted it to be an actual reflection of their tastes. Which was ridiculous. What difference did it make?
“Again, with the death theme,” Axl said. “Weren’t King Louis and Marie Antoinette killed there?”
Gardens had nothing to do with toppled kings. Not really. She made a sound of impatience. “Stop making me sound gruesome! I’m sure people have died on lakes too, you know. Drowning is a thing. Boating accidents are a thing.”
“Fair enough.” Axl turned to the camera. He was very natural facing it, which she thought was interesting. He was way more natural than she was. It hadn’t even fazed him to be recorded while cooking. “So, here’s the thing. Leighton is champagne. I’m beer. In a can. But that’s all wrapping. What’s important is what’s in here.” He tapped his chest. “None of those things matter when there’s love.”
Damn it, he was so convincing. He was so believable that it made an ache build deep inside her, making her wish this was real on some level.
Her heart ached brutally. She wanted a true love. A future with a man who made her feel beautiful. More than she could have possibly realized.
Leighton jumped up with the urgency of when her mother had forced her on a colon cleanse at seventeen to lose weight.
“Interview over. Thanks, that was awesome, guys. Whew, I think we got some great footage.”
Axl eyed her but he didn’t protest. He just stood up and stretched leisurely, like he was stiff. Which made her think of when he was stiff the night before. That magnificent penis. Maybe even majestic. Oh, my. She didn’t mean to look but involuntarily her eyes drifted down below his waistband. He wasn’t hard but she could see the outline of his cock in those jeans. They were snug jeans. Just right jeans. Not pretty boy jeans but working man jeans. Not his gone fishing jeans but more like his date jeans.
Leighton shifted her eyes upward and saw Axl was watching her, amused. “If we’re done, I’ll drop you off at the hotel since I’m heading out for the night.”
What? He was leaving? Leighton frowned. “Oh. Where are you going?”
Oh, Lord, that was so uncool. It was really none of her damn business.
But, well, she had just thought that since they’d both enjoyed sex the night before and everyone thought they were dating, he would want a repeat. She certainly did. They had limited time together. Six nights if her math was on point. That was approximately twelve orgasms that she would like to have, thank you very much.
“It’s poker night with the guys. Every Sunday night. Unless it’s football season. Then we watch the games together.”
“I see.” She didn’t. Every Sunday? She loved Zach and he was her best friend but she didn’t want a standing Sunday date with him. And he would tell her to get a life if she suggested anything of the kind to him. “Have fun then. I’m ready to go whenever the guys are.”
As Jackson and Brad were packing up equipment Axl moved in close to her and bent over to murmur in her ear. “Tomorrow night I’m all yours if you want me.”
She swallowed. “I want.”
He laughed softly and straightened up. “Best thing I’ve heard all day.”
In the car on the way to the hotel Axl said, “How do you think that interview went? I don’t know how any of this stuff works so I couldn’t really tell if I was giving the right answers or not.”
How could he not know how adorable he was? His answers had been sweet and dangerous to her well-being. Because with every response, she had found herself thinking more and more how amazing it would be if any of this were real. It made her want to open her heart and tell him he was a special guy.
But all she said was, “I think the interview was good. You’re actually really comfortable on camera.”
“Must be my two-night stripping career. I’m good with an audience.”
That made her laugh. But suddenly she wanted to know how many women he’d slept with in town. It wasn’t a huge community. Was he a notorious bachelor who had screwed his way around Beaver Bend? She pictured him up on that stage, shirtless. Scratch that. She didn’t want to know the answer to how popular he might be. “I promise we won’t have to do a lot of interviews after this. The hard part is over.”
“So now the fun stuff?” He gave a mocking fist pump. “Yes.”
Leighton laughed. “How did I do? I was nervous.”
“You did good, babe. But you should pull out some of your flirt moves to make it even more authentic.”
She made a face. “You mean my awkward Officer Hottie moves? I’m pretty sure I suck at flirting.”
“What? No, you don’t. I want you to flirt with me.” He squeezed her knee.
