The Redhead Plays Her Hand (Redhead #3)(4)
Author: Alice Clayton

“I think so. Hang on, let me put on my nag face,” I said sternly, frowning in an exaggerated way. “Honey, don’t you think you should stay home and clean out the gutters?” I whined, putting my hands on my hips and stomping my foot. An action that would have been more forceful had I not slipped as I did it. He caught me, laughing as I struggled to stay upright. He gave me a light smack on the bottom as he put me back on my feet.

“As it happens, I was going to ask if you wanted to come out with me tonight.”

“Me? Go out with the boys club? Seriously?” I teased, handing him a washcloth.

Jack had been spending more and more time with some of the guys from his new film, something I initially encouraged him to do. For all the lip service he gave me about loving The Golden Girls, I reminded him often that he was a young guy about town and needed to live it up. Lately he had taken me up on my offer, almost too willingly at times.

“Sure, why not? I figured it was about time you met these guys. These are the guys I’m supposed to be willing to die for, right?”

“In a movie, love. Die for them in a movie. Will there be dancing?” I asked.

“I imagine so.”

“Will you be dancing?”

“I’m British. We don’t dance.”

“Can I dance?”

“I’m counting on it. Jesus, Grace, you should see yourself right now.” He sighed. I was leaning back under the spray, and was I making sure my br**sts were pushed up high and perky? Yep.

Nice. Posing for your man?

Can’t hurt.

I felt his mouth beginning to drag down the side of my neck, and I came up for air.

“Hey, we can’t do this now, Sweet Nuts. I’m meeting Holly in forty-five minutes, and she gets testy when I’m late.”

“I only need five minutes; just hold still, Crazy.”

I laughed as he slid his body up mine, every nerve ending sparking to life. But water and sparks don’t play well together, and I held him at arm’s length.

“Seriously, I can’t. Holly won’t let me use sex with you as an excuse to be late.”

“How do you know? Try it.”

“Shush, you. Shower gel, please,” I instructed, pointing. He handed it to me, we lathered, and I tried to go about the business of washing up. Which was hard.

Because so was he . . .

Because so was he.

Twenty minutes later, he sat on the bench at the end of the bed while I got ready.

“So tonight? Yes?” he asked, handing me my bra. Which he held with reverence. I think he was jealous that it got to hold my boobies all day, something he would prefer to do.

“Yes, tonight. Can I bring Holly? She’s been dying to go out dancing. We can make a night of it!” I said excitedly, standing in front of him and running my hands over his scruff. It was taking some getting used to, but I was kind of digging it. He looked older and younger all at the same time. It was mesmerizing.

“Bring everyone you want, love. Just text me the names, and I’ll tell Adam.”

“Adam?”

“Adam Kasen, from the film? He’ll make sure whoever we want is on the list,” he replied, nuzzling into my palm.

“‘On the list’? You going Hollywood on me, George?”

“This from the girl taking a meeting today to discuss her shooting schedule for her new TV series, right?”

“Wow, my new TV series. Can you say that again?”

“‘My new TV series’?”

“Nope, my new TV series.”

“That’s what I said, exactly.” He grinned as I threw my towel at him. He growled as I danced away from his grabbing hands.

“You better go to your meeting, you little tease, before I keep you here all day.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later tonight then?”

“Yep, I’ll be the one in the corner with the posse behind the velvet rope.” He nodded, laying back on the bed, the sheets still tussled from our previous activities.

“Perfect. This pu**y loves a posse,” I teased as he rolled his eyes at me.

“You have five seconds to get out of here, Grace.”

“Leaving,” I yelled as I headed toward the kitchen, grabbing my water bottle off the counter.

“Hey, Crazy?” I heard his feet slapping behind me on the hardwood.

“Yes?” I smiled as he stuck his head around the corner.

“I saw a couple cars that looked really familiar yesterday down the hill. Watch yourself out there, okay?” He smiled, his eyes burning into mine.

“No pics. Got it.” I mock saluted.

“Don’t let them make us into the next Ashton and Demi. People love to see a couple fall apart.”

“Did you really just compare me to Demi?”

“Sorry. I guess you’re a little older, right?” he teased, tugging on my ponytail as I slid a ball cap on.

I used to tease him so much about wearing his ball cap, and now I hardly went anywhere without one, especially when driving in my neighborhood. I was fanatical about making sure no one knew where we lived. I knew it couldn’t last much longer, but I wanted to keep our bubble around us as long as possible.

“Seriously, George? How often do these little jabs work out in your favor in the long run?” I glared, letting him smooth out my ponytail.

“Just be careful out there, ’kay?” he said, his eyes concerned.

“I will, love. See you later.” I nodded, blowing him a kiss.

“I got something for you to blow . . .” I heard him muttering as he headed back into the bedroom.

I giggled, grabbing my keys and heading out into the sunshine.

Even in winter, Los Angeles was golden. I smiled to myself as I crossed to my car, pausing a moment to take in the lemon trees, the thick carpet of pine needles on the lawn, the beige Taurus driving not too slow but not too fast either— Wait, what? I hurried behind the steering wheel, getting in just as it drove past the large pine at the edge of the property. Most of the houses on this part of Laurel were set back from the road but not too far.

Paranoid much?

Paparazzi were almost a daily concern. Running into them was no longer an occasional surprise, it was borderline becoming a nuisance. Jack’s new car had been spotted multiple times, although somehow we’d been able to avoid being tracked back to the house. But it was getting dicey. Once, when he was being followed very closely on Robertson, a car in front of him stopped so quickly he almost ran right into it. Shots were taken of him looking grimly over the steering wheel, ball cap pulled down low. This was beginning to take its toll on Jack. It was a side of his fame that no one could prepare for.