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“Are you worried that’s true?”
My head popped up. “No. Why would you ask that?”
She patted my knee. “Because I know you.”
I let out an elongated sigh. “Drake was wonderful today,” I whispered. “Never once did he do anything to make me think this was a publicity stunt. He’s not that kind of person. But I realized that, now more than ever, I don’t belong in his world. I’ve never felt so violated, having cameras in my face and people asking such invasive questions. There’s a photographer across the street as we speak. And I overheard two men say that they can’t believe Drake would choose me over Marissa,” I whined, sounding just like my son.
“Char, men like that are pigs and only looking for one thing.”
“I guarantee online media outlets will be saying the same thing. Eventually, I’ll be in one of those spreads about famous men who date ‘regular’ girls. While it will give all the plain Janes hope, most people will think Drake’s an idiot.”
“Well, if he chooses Marissa over you, he is an idiot. And you are no plain Jane.”
“I am, compared to the Marissas of the world.”
“Did you tell Drake how you feel?”
“Not all the gory details, but he knows today wasn’t a walk in the park for me.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said not to let anyone make me feel insignificant, especially not myself.”
“Wow. That’s good. I still don’t like him, but that’s excellent advice. You should listen to that.”
“I tried to, but everywhere I turned today I felt like the world was telling me I didn’t belong with Drake.”
Her eyes lit up with some hope, though I would give her credit for tamping it down. “Do you agree?” Okay, her hope was back in full force.
“Izzy, I love him. He’s the father of my child. I just wish he were something less conspicuous, like an accountant, and wanted to live here with us and live, mostly, happily ever after.”
Her brow arched. “Mostly?”
“I’m trying to be realistic.” I grinned.
“Yeah, well, I don’t see Drake Foster giving up Hollywood for Fair Hollow. That sounds like a fairy tale or the plot to a cheesy Hallmark movie.” She flashed me her pearly whites.
“I know,” I whispered.
“So, what are you going to do? Move to LA?” There was some serious trepidation in her voice.
“No,” I put her at ease.
She pressed her lips together, obviously seeing the quandary before me.
“We’ll work it out,” I stuttered, not sure how.
She rubbed my arm. “I hope for your sake that you can.”
With that, we heard Drake walking down the upstairs hallway.
“That’s my cue.” Izzy popped up. “Char, don’t let love ruin your happiness.”
I tilted my head. “What does that mean?”
She waved her hand around, showcasing our beautiful money pit. “Don’t forget, you came here for a reason. Many happy reasons. In fact, I’ve never seen you as happy as you have been here.”
Drake closed in, and before I could respond, Izzy skedaddled—leaving major heartburn in her wake. I rubbed my chest, praying I didn’t have to choose between the inn and Drake. I could have both, right? Not that I placed things above people—I didn’t. And I didn’t expect Drake to give up his home and life in LA either. I knew that wouldn’t be fair. I suppose I was hoping for some miracle compromise that allowed us to be together more often than not.
Drake landed next to me and took my hand. When our fingers intertwined, I felt at home. That had to mean something.
“How’s Quinn?” I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“Considering I’m paying him a thousand dollars an hour currently, I would say he’s doing well.”
I couldn’t even imagine making that kind of money, or having that kind of money to spend. “I would hope so.”
“He’s getting ready to serve papers to that weasel, Martez. I’m sorry I ever brought him here.”
“How were you to know?”
He rubbed my hand between his own. “I’m done with assistants. They are nothing but trouble,” he said with a teasing air.
“Hey, there. I was an amazing assistant.”
“You, more than any other, drove me crazy.”
“Excuse me.” I was highly offended.
He nuzzled my neck, his scruff tickling me while he pressed warm kisses against my skin, driving me wild. “You still drive me crazy.”
“You’re welcome,” I stuttered out. “We better put Jameson to bed.” I leaned my head back, giving him better access to my neck.
He trailed kisses upward slowly and sensuously, while saying, “Will you read me a bedtime story too?”
“Uh-huh” was all I could manage to get out. My body was on fire and shouting all sorts of profanities.
“And kiss me good night?” He skimmed my jawline, then captured my lips before I could respond. At least verbally.
I dug my fingers into his hair, begging him to kiss me deeply. He readily complied. His tongue swept my mouth while he groaned.
