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JulieAnn stands off to the side with a triumphant smile on her face. I forgot that she’d planned to bring the paparazzi here. This probably won’t go over well.
“Give me a minute,” I say to Jax.
“I’ll be right here,” he says.
I march forward, and the cameras and microphones descend along with the questions.
“Malia Kalama, we hear that you were just in an important meeting with Harry Wilson. Can you tell us what it was about?”
“Are you going to be in the next Harry Wilson film?”
“Have you and Trey made up? Trey-lia fans want to know.”
JulieAnn quickly closes the distance to me. She whispers in my ear. “Don’t say anything about what allegedly happened in Harry’s room. You have nothing to feel ashamed about. You did what you had to for your career. Now put on your show face and tell them about the movie. Eye on the prize.”
I gape at her, hurt and anger burning through me. She knew. She knew exactly what Harry had in mind and she was okay with it? Ala was right, JulieAnn doesn’t have my best interests at heart.
“The only thing you’re right about is that I have nothing to be ashamed of. But you should.”
Before she can comment I turn to the cameras and speak into the microphones. “I’m sorry that so many people have been misled, but I was never with Trey Wentworth. The relationship was fake, all of it. Oh, and I was never in rehab either. I’ve never done drugs in my life. The whole thing was a publicity stunt my agent orchestrated for Harry Wilson’s next movie, which I’ve decided I want no part of.”
“Is that a ring on your hand?” one of them asks.
I glance down at the ring, and then back at Jax. I hold my hand out to him. He walks up to me and intertwines his fingers with mine. “Yes, and this is my fiancé, Jaxon Wyle. Now if you’ll excuse me, our daughter is waiting for us back home. I have no further comment. Thank you.”
Jaxon’s eyes gleam with pride and love. We start to walk away when JulieAnn blocks our exit. She is blinking and sputtering. “Are you crazy? Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m done letting you dictate my career. You’re fired.”
Her jaw drops open. For once, she is completely speechless. We walk around her.
“You are so sexy right now,” Jax says into my ear.
I squeeze his hand. “Take me home, cowboy.”
“Yes, darlin’.”
* * *
THE END OF BOOK 2 IN THE WYLE AWAY RANCH SERIES. YEEHAW!
Author’s Note
Thank you for coming along for this adventurous ride with Jax and Malia. I had a blast telling their story, even when they wouldn’t let me sleep until I wrote just what they wanted me to. If you enjoyed reading this book, please leave a review, because we all know Malia and Jax appreciate being adored by their fans.
Sneak Peek
The Cowboy Who Stole My Heart
Most people considered a wedding the symbol of two lives joining together, but for Skye, this one represented sweet freedom. One last night of stuffed chicken, red wine, and the famous Stanton Wedding Cake and she’d cut loose of the reception center forever. More specifically, she’d cut loose from this kitchen and Judy Stanton, her aunt.
Skye opened the industrial refrigerator and pulled out the top cake tier, then slid it onto the rolling tray next to the other tiers. Today would’ve been perfect if the bride hadn’t requested a fourth cake layer the morning before the wedding. Skye pressed gingerly on the top and smiled. “Praise the bakery gods. The fondant set.”
“I still can’t believe that lady added a fourth tier yesterday.” Eliza, Skye’s soon-to-be replacement, stood at the opposite kitchen counter chopping herbs for the stuffed chicken. “Or why your aunt agreed to it. She must have no idea how much extra work that caused you.”
“True. Who needs sleep anyway?” Skye’s labor was never part of the equation. Her aunt was all about money, and a last-minute, extra cake tier meant Judy could charge an exorbitant fee. She likely didn’t even think twice about the night of work it cost Skye.
As usual, Skye’s long, permanently messy blonde hair waged its daily battle with her to stay tucked under a hairnet. She’d never met anyone with straight hair as rebellious as hers. With a grunt, she stuffed the errant strands back up and felt a smear of frosting across the side of her face. But she was in far too much of a rush to worry about her looks. The wedding was hours away, and the flowers hadn’t even been set on the cake yet. “We’re running out of time.”
