The Redhead Revealed (Redhead #2)(64)
Author: Alice Clayton

Rebecca. Apparently she was still upset with me about what I did to Jack at the premiere. And frankly, I couldn’t blame her. I knew how close they were, and I knew how Holly would feel if someone did that to me, especially on such an important night. But if Jack and I could move past it, she was going to have to as well. I was glad she was coming to the house, and I was happy to have her to dinner. I hoped this could be the impetus for a new start for us. I was in Jack’s life to stay, as was she, so we needed to get past this.

Jack left early for his shoot, and I spent the day prepping for the party and wrapping all my presents. We’d be exchanging gifts as part of the festivities. I baked pies, peeled veggies, and made as much as I could in advance so I could enjoy the time with my friends and not be stuck in the kitchen all night. Before I knew it, it was almost four p.m., and I still hadn’t had a shower. I made my way to the bathroom, stripped down, and stood under the spray for almost a solid hour, pruning. I had something I wanted to ask the Brit, but I wasn’t sure how to present it…

***

Later that night, starved, we drove to Pink’s. I craved a hot dog for some reason, and nothing would satisfy like a Pink’s. There was no way in hell Jack could get out of the car and stand in line without being recognized, so he pulled into a parking lot half a block away, and I gladly hopped out and stood in line. This was one of the first places I’d frequented when I moved to L.A. the first time, and I’d seen a celebrity on each and every visit. Everyone loved Pink’s.

After waiting for almost an hour and having a tiny fangirl moment when I saw Jim Carrey getting a dog, I took our treats (Mulholland Drive Dog for him and Martha Stewart dog for me) back to the car and we devoured them—top up, as we didn’t want to risk pictures. Paparazzi tended to circle Pink’s at night. You never knew who was going to show up. In between bites of the best hot dogs ever (they snap when you bite them), we laughed and joked and talked. He told me about the day’s photo shoot, and then about the fans at his apartment when he’d gone by that afternoon.

“I realized that even though that’s been my place in L.A. for over a year now, I’m ready to let it go,” he said. “Enough with the constant fangirls.”

I swallowed hard, thinking of what I’d been wanting to ask him.

“I mean, I’m headed back to London, and who knows where I’m going to be in January. Then I’m on location for the next film. I’ll never be here,” he continued, his voice trailing off.

I wiped the pickle juice off my fingers and turned to face him in the car. He sipped his soda, then his eyes found mine. They were serious. We each took a breath, then spoke at the same time.

“So, I was thinking—,” we both said, then laughed.

“You first,” I said.

“No, you go.”

“Huh-uh, you.”

“Ladies first.”

“There ain’t no ladies in this car,” I said, accenting my statement with a loud burp.

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head in mock disgust. “Age before beauty, Grace,” he chided.

“Did you just call yourself beautiful and me old?” I asked.

“Yes, yes, I did.”

“Well, hell, I really can’t argue with that logic. Okay, I’ll have the balls to say it first. Why don’t you just move in with me?” I said quickly, not giving myself a chance to puss out.

He stared at me, then started to speak.

I shook a finger at him and pressed on, “Wait, let me say this. You travel so much, and who the hell knows what I’m going to be doing. When we’re in the same town, when’s the last time we spent a night apart?”

He thought for a second. “I can’t remember. Not since we started…well…”

“Fucking?” I asked, laughing out loud.

“Yes, exactly. Fucking. You’re so crude, love,” he said, smiling.

I knew how much he loved me when I was crude.

“So, it just makes sense, yes? Do you even like your place?” I asked.

“No, not anymore. I mean, it was only ever just a place to sleep, never a home. And now with the paparazzi knowing where I live and all the fans surrounding the place, I suppose it does make sense…You sure about this, Crazy?” he asked, brushing my hair back with his fingertips.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I answered, kissing his fingers as they got closer to my lips.

“I can’t guarantee the press won’t figure this out. You ready for them to be camped outside your house?”

“What’s the difference? You’re there anyway. Who cares if you bring your shit over?” I smiled.

He sat back in his seat and ran his hands through his hair. He stared out the window, then looked back at me. His gaze was piercing.

“What are you thinking, George?”

“I’m thinking I was going to ask you the same thing, if I could move in with you,” he said.

“Are we insane?” I asked him.

“Totally and completely,” he answered, leaning in to capture my lips with his own. His mouth was warm and sweet, tasting of relish and mustard, and I couldn’t get enough. We kissed slowly and romantically, the glow of the Pink’s Hot Dogs neon sign in the distance.

And when we went home and walked inside, it felt good. We slept wrapped around each other in our bed.

Chapter 21

The day of our Christmas dinner party was warm and sunny, but with enough of a nip in the air to remind you it was the holidays. And if you still weren’t sure what time of year it was, there were always the reindeer strung across Rodeo to remind you.

Jack slept in while I busied myself around the house. When he finally got up, he helped me as best he could. I assigned him to help me trim the Brussels sprouts, but instead he kept trying to throw them away when he thought I wasn’t looking. “Brussels sprouts, Grace, really? These are our friends. Why are you doing this to them?”

But I made Brussels sprouts so well that even people who never liked them asked me how I made them taste so good. I had mad Brussels skills. The Brit was not convinced. Finally, I sat him at the counter and put him in charge of dicing celery for the stuffing. He paid great attention to detail, making sure each dice was the same size as the sample I sliced for him. With him doing busywork, I had time to finish everything else.

Once I got enough stuff done that I felt like we could relax a little, we snuggled into the couch and watched retro specials, starting with Charlie Brown and ending with Rudolph. I pressed back against him on the couch, and we burritoed ourselves in a blanket. The rich scent of turkey wafted through the air, and it was incredibly cozy.