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Chapter Seventeen
“Lizardman, you’re not coming!” Nash threw his pack into the back of the GMC pickup truck that he was borrowing from West. His brother might’ve won this first round, but Nash wasn’t about to dog sit his puppy too.
He avoided Lizardman’s sad eyes. The puppy always knew that Nash was going out when he heard the jangle of his keys. “Not this time, little guy.”
He opened his side door. Lizardman lunged into the cab ahead of him.
“No! Bad. Bad.”
The dog panted loudly, looking for all the world that he’d been invited along. Sighing, Nash spied a big bag of puppy chow leaning against the shelf in the garage. Without another thought, he heaved the thirty pound bag over his shoulder and threw it into the back of the pickup. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Lizardman.”
Nash jumped into the driver’s seat and called his brother. His call went directly to voicemail. Unperturbed, Nash left a message. “I’m taking your dog, West. Don’t try to stop me.”
Obviously, West would be elated. That puppy always slobbered all over him like they were the best of friends. His brother wasn’t used to that sort of adoration, and pushed Lizardman from him like he did all his girlfriends. If it wasn’t for the fact that Lizardman was officially his children’s dog, West very likely would’ve given the pup away to the nearest farm.
Nash still held hope that Lizardman would somehow soften West up and force him to act almost human. So far, it hadn’t happened.
Even now, Nash stressed about agreeing to do this job, but after seeing no discernable gators in the water, so to speak, he’d finally decided that the money was too hard to give up, and even more convincing had been Emily’s big hazel eyes bright with worried tears when she’d talked about needing to get away. At that point, the whole venture seemed like it was meant to be.
He pulled out of West’s ten-car garage and headed for Emily’s. He couldn’t wait for this trip. The paparazzi still hadn’t given up on trying to steal shots of the both of them together. So far, they’d captured Nash sneaking from her window, hiding out with her in the garden, and smuggling her from her record label’s office building.
Their lack of privacy made it difficult to gauge Emily’s feelings for him. Was she still playing, or was she beginning to fall for him? There were times he’d thought there was something more in the way that she watched him, before they’d get interrupted. Again and again.
Now Nash was going in as a repairman. He’d slapped a superhero decal on the side of the pickup—the SuperMite sticker was something that West had gotten from Comic-Con one year and it definitely looked legit. He slid on his shades, tied a red bandana around his neck, and wore his cowboy hat low. Sneaking into Emily’s place all the time gave him flashbacks of high school. It definitely didn’t help his cause to look more responsible.
He drove the short distance to reach her gates. They were shut to keep out the paparazzi. He pressed down the call button to announce his presence. “SuperMite is here,” he said.
A laugh followed that and the gate lifted to let him in. Driving around the circular driveway, he reached the front steps where Emily waited with two suitcases, her guitar, and a backpack.
He rolled down the window, ready to tease her. “You moving out?” he called.
“Hey, this is me packing light,” she said. She clicked the heels of her cute red cowgirl boots together, just as he fully took her in. Her full lips were painted a bright red, her dark hair swung around her shoulders, and he was blown away by that sweet little black summer dress she wore.
He swallowed. How did he get to be so lucky to talk her into going with him?
He slid out the side of his truck and took both her suitcases in hand. “Get your pretty little self in my truck, woman. I’ve got this!”
She bit her lip. “Okay, but I think I need to apologize in advance.”
“For what?” He tried to heave her suitcases into the pickup and immediately discerned her meaning. This was like hauling cement. His lip curled up as he wrestled her luggage into the back. “What’d you pack in there?”
“The essentials.”
Did that include the kitchen sink?
She hauled her guitar case with her to the passenger side. As soon as she got the door open, she let out an appreciative squeal. “Lizardman!” Pushing her guitar by her feet, she crawled into the front seat to rub the dog’s appreciative ears.
Nash caught her door, leaning against it. “What? Lizardman did nothing to help!” He pretended to be jealous of the cute rascal. “You’d better get my ears next. They’re ringing after that workout.”
“Oh, poor boy.” She turned on him, sliding her fingers through his hair. He stilled, his hand tightening over the door. “How’s that?” she asked.
He caught her by the waist. Bringing the puppy was definitely a good move on his part. “A little to the left,” he said.
She made soothing noises and moved closer, so that her knees hit up against his chest. “Better?”
His eyes caught a movement over by the fence where an intrepid photographer positioned himself, taking pictures like his paycheck depended on it. Now was as good a time as any to give Emily’s fans a good show. He slid her all the way to him and caught her in a kiss that he’d been dreaming of since the second he’d rolled out of bed this morning. His fingers found the soft tulle of her dress. On some level, he realized his strategic mistake when he felt that red lipstick rub off on his cheek. She drew back, breathless, still clinging to his shoulders.
“Uh oh.” She tried to clean off his face with the back of her hand.
