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But a lie was a lie, and he couldn’t back away from his dishonesty regardless of how much he wanted to.
The next morning, he pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and headed for Malibu. This time, only two black SUVs followed. Despite a stormy forecast, the Friday-morning traffic was brutal, so he had more time than he wanted to think. As he pulled up at Trev’s house, he waved at the paps before they peeled off to search for parking, something they’d have a hard time finding today.
Georgie didn’t answer the door, so he used the key Trev had given him. The house was quiet, but the open doors to the deck revealed an abandoned yoga mat. Trev lived on one of Malibu’s most exclusive beaches, but today the impending storm had thinned out the sun worshippers. He got rid of his shoes and walked out onto the sand. The star of a TV cop drama lounged next to his third wife while his kids dug a ditch. A container ship chugged against the horizon, and a flock of gulls cried overhead.
Georgie stood alone near the water’s edge, the wind whipping her dark hair. The same purple bikini bottom she’d worn in Mexico clung to her bottom, and her skimpy white T-shirt ended well above her waist. When had she grown so beautiful? He wanted to drag her into the house, pull off that little purple bikini bottom, and bury himself inside her.
She spotted him, but she didn’t exactly throw her arms around him as he came up next to her. He missed her oversize enthusiasm more than he could ever have imagined. “Is your heart leaping at the sight of me,” he said, “or have you wised up?”
“Some mild skittering. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Glad to hear it.” But he wasn’t glad. He wanted her to laugh and kiss him. “Let’s go for a walk.” He grabbed her hand before she could protest.
Famous faces were a dime a dozen on this stretch of sand, and no one did more than nod as they passed. One of the best parts of his relationship with Georgie was never feeling as if he needed to make conversation, but today that ease had disappeared. “Guess who’s taking cake-decorating lessons?”
“No idea.”
He told her about Chaz and Rory but didn’t mention the real reason for Rory’s visit. He stalled a little longer by going after a Frisbee that had gotten away from a couple of kids. When he returned, Georgie was sitting in the sand, her arms clasped around her knees.
He sank next to her and watched the whitecapped waves boom toward the shore. “It’s going to storm. Let’s head over to the Chart House for lunch.”
She gripped her knees tighter. “I don’t think I can stomach a cozy meal with the man who fed me to the wolves.”
He dug his heels into the sand. “I’ll take that as a positive sign that you’ve wised up about me, and this craziness is behind us.”
She snagged a strand of her hair. “Unfortunately, what they say is true. There’s a thin line between love and hate.”
Something unpleasant twisted in the pit of his stomach. “You don’t hate me, Scoot. You’ve just lost what little respect you’d started to develop.” He braced an elbow on his knee and studied the dark clouds skidding across the sky. “We made small-screen magic when you couldn’t stand me. No reason we can’t transfer that to the big screen.”
She tilted her head toward him, her funny green eyes somber. “The deadline’s passed. Jade has Helene locked up now.”
He picked up a beach stone and rubbed it between his fingers. “She’s not doing it.”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
He couldn’t postpone this any longer. “Because she was never under consideration.”
Georgie sat up straighter. He pitched the stone into the waves. “I lied to you.”
She curled her hands into fists.
He couldn’t look at her. “I had all kinds of good reasons at the time.”
Her mouth twisted bitterly. “You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”
“Exactly! I told you I was!”
Flying sand stung his bare calves as she jumped up. He shot to his feet and went after her. “Think about it, Georgie. Now that I’ve shown my true colors, nothing is standing in your way. The part is yours, and after what I’ve done, you can take it without worrying about any messy emotional crap getting in your way. You should be gla
d I lied.”
Even as he spoke, he didn’t believe a word of it. And neither did she. “I’m going in.” She picked up her stride.
He matched her steps. “I’m…pretty sure that guy over there has a camera. We need to make out first.”
“Make out with yourself.” Her heels kicked up pinwheels of sand. He slid his arm around her shoulder, forcing her to a slower pace.
He might as well have been hugging a cactus.
