I was Joz’s world—and he was mine.
My bladder forced me from the bed. Joz stirred as I slipped out of his arms, then turned over and burrowed farther beneath the covers. I used the toilet, washed my hands, and stared at my naked body in the mirror above the sink. I had a hickey on the right-hand side of my neck that a high-neck sweater should cover, and one on each breast. Good thing it wasn’t summer. No swimsuits or two-pieces for me.
I stared closer. I was glowing, and my mouth was stretched in a grin that wouldn’t quit. Everything might ache, and I probably needed an Epsom salts bath for my poor vajayjay, but God fucking damn, I was happier than I could ever remember being.
Joz was softly snoring when I returned to the bedroom. I slipped into a robe and grabbed my phone, then went to sit in my reading chair by the window. Sunlight glinted off the lake, and fluffy white clouds peppered the sky. One even looked like a heart, although that could be the hearts in my eyes projecting.
As I did every morning, first thing, I checked my inbox. If anything urgent had come up, my PA would’ve marked it for my attention. The email at the very top made me sit up straight in my chair. She’d marked it urgent and important, and the subject line simply read:Breathe.
My heart hammered my ribcage as I opened the message. She’d written:News article about you and Joz. Maybe grab a coffee before you read. I’ve already informed Sam, who’s preparing a rebuttal for your review.Insidewas a link to a UK tabloid newspaper.
Taking a deep breath, I clicked on it.
There was a picture of Joz and me kissing by his living room window. The headline above it read:
Rock Hard Bargain: Joz Raynor scores more than a record deal.
Underneath, they’d stuck the knife in deeper.
Aspen Kingcaid’s secret contract clause: Sleep with the boss, land a record deal.
My skin flushed hot. Those fuckers. The UK tabloid newspapers were some of the worst in the world. Petty, cruel, pushing truth boundaries but not enough to land them in court. I hit reply.
Thanks. Tell Sam to call me as soon as she’s got something to share.
I rubbed my forehead. This was a headache I could’ve done without, but I refused to deny that Joz and I were in a relationship. We were both single, both adults. We hadn’t done anything wrong. Not that the tabloids would care. All theywanted was to sell newspapers and advertising space. A juicy story would boost both.
“Why so serious, Spitfire?”
I looked up from my phone and grimaced. “You’re not going to like this.”
He sat up in bed and hoisted the pillows against the headboard before leaning against them. “Go on.”
Trying to make light of it, I said, “We’re headline news.”
I walked over to the bed and handed him my phone. He took it from me. For a second, he said nothing. Then he exploded out of bed.
“Those fuckers.” After tossing my phone onto the messy covers, he snatched up his pants from the floor and removed his own phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my lawyer.”
“To say what?”
“Aspen, it’s fucking libel. They’ve intimated I’m only with you because of a fucking record contract. Our deal was signed long before we were a thing. I won’t fucking have it.”
“Joz.” I grabbed his phone, slid it from his hands, and threw it on the bed next to mine. “My head of PR is preparing a statement. I’ll have her send a copy to you and to Mike. Calling him would be a good idea, but this isn’t a legal case. Yes, it’s a slur, but legally, it’s weak at best. Besides, suing will only keep it in the headlines longer. We’ll put out a joint statement, and that’ll be it.”
“But it won’t be. It never is with these vultures. Ask me how I know.”
I slid my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest. “We’ll let our teams handle it. Trust me. I’ve got this.”
I’d planned to return to New York this morning, but the press would be everywhere. I had a much better idea. I leaned back, waiting for him to give me his attention.
“Listen, London has a ranch in Wyoming. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and I know he’d be happy to loan it to us for a week. Why don’t we let the dust settle and go there? Horseback riding, cookouts under the moonlight, toasting s’mores on a campfire. Just the two of us. Sounds like heaven, right?”
For a second, I thought he might refuse. Then his shoulders relaxed, and the faintest smile pulled at his lips.
