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“I’m sure you would have heard about it in the tabloids had Fiona not shared that with you,” Mia jokes.
Cole smiles. “I’m sure I would have. But she likes to keep me in the loop before I find out anything that way.”
“You’ve said before you’re not fond of surprises,” Fiona says.
“Very true.”
“We surprised a lot of people, our parents included,” Mia explains as her gaze lifts to mine. “But once we admitted how we felt about each other, we didn’t want to wait.”
“We’d waited long enough,” I murmur.
I am still waiting, not daring to share my feelings given the ups and downs we’ve already faced.
Mia blinks, turning her attention back to Cole and Fiona.
“I hope this doesn’t take me out of the running for Catherine completely, although I would understand if it did.”
Fiona opens her mouth to speak, but it’s Cole who gets there first.
“We still haven’t decided on Catherine yet. But I would say you’re very much still in consideration for that role.”
“Really?” The smile on Mia’s lips lights up her entire face. No, her entire being.
Cole chuckles. “We hope to have a decision soon. If you’ll excuse us?”
“Of course.” Mia nods, and Cole pulls Fiona toward another room.
“Can you believe it?” She spins back to me, and there’s a lightness in her gaze that wasn’t there before. An excitement that’s been missing.
“Of course I can. You’re a talented actress, Ames. They’d be lucky to have you.”
A light blush creeps up her cheeks at my praise.
“Flattery, sir, will get you a dance. Let’s go.”
Mia is a natural, able to charm industry and non-industry folks alike. There’s something about her—the genuine laughter, the warm smile—that pulls people to her like a Pied Piper.
And I am and have been first in line for years. A status that up until recently has driven me to the brink of insanity as I’ve seen her jump from one relationship to the other merely because the other person is someone she thinks she’s “supposed” to be seen with, even when it’s obvious how wrong they are for her.
But now? Now, she’s mine.
Mine.
It had taken everything in me to let her walk away after that kiss in the bathroom. Unlike our wedding night, I can relive this one in full Technicolor glory. The way the pads of her fingers had scraped against my scalp, the little sounds that had escaped from her as my lips devoured skin wherever I could easily reach it. I want nothing more than to do it again and again as many times as I can. I want to worship her body with my fingers and lips until she agrees to give me a real chance and doesn’t keep trying to foist me off on Evie.
I want her to break her Hollywood Boyfriends Only rule.
I want her.
Wandering the perimeter of the pool, I wait for her to come back after she excused herself a few minutes ago. As I turn the corner, I spot her walking toward me with a brilliant smile that makes her eyes sparkle like stars. My own cheeks stretch with a responding grin.
When someone dressed in a navy-blue tux intercepts her, I pause. It doesn’t take me long to recognize Fucker. We haven’t seen him all night, and I’d begun to think he wasn’t invited after all. My eyes narrow as I take in his body language toward her. He’s close to her—closer than I’d like—but since I’d rather they be on different planets, I don’t get that wish. She shakes her head, her facial expression morphing from irritation to anger as she starts to walk around him. His fingers wrapping around her arm is the last straw for me, and I cut the distance between us quickly.
“Get your fucking hands off my wife.” I keep my voice low to limit any attention we may get from people nearby.
“Ah, if it isn’t the patsy you got drunk enough to marry you,” he tells Mia.
My hands clench at my hips, and I fight the urge to punch him since that will create a scene, and that type of drama is what we are trying to minimize right now, so instead, I step close enough to tug Mia away from him and tuck her to my side.
