“I was dropping off some candy when she answered the door. She told me what happened.”
Warner stops what he’s doing and opens the jar. He fishes out a peach ring and eats it. “I’ll never have something peach flavored and not think of you.” He eats two more and closes the jar. “How many of those did you bring with you from LA?”
“An ungodly amount. I have a very real problem.”
Warner resumes peeling, the conversation about Peyton presumably finished. I suppose a father can only take so much. I lean against the counter in the same spot I was in when he made pancakes. I think it’s safe to assume he hasn’t heard about the picture of us or seen it. He would have mentioned it by now. Here goes nothing.
“My mom called me after I finished up today, and—”
Warner whips around, his hand against his forehead. “Shit, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I forgot to ask you how your first day of filming went. What an asshole.”
“Something else kind of big was happening,” I remind him. “And it went well. Until my mom called afterward. She sent me a picture from a gossip site.”
Warner pauses, giving me a wary look. “Do I even want to know?”
My eyes squint as I make a bare-teeth face. “Probably.”
His eyes widen, urging me to just say it already.
“Someone in the grocery store took a picture of us kissing. And sent it to the tabs.” Warner doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me. It’s probably a look very similar to when I called him and told him about Peyton. I pull up the picture from my messages and offer it to him. He looks at it.
It’s… sexy.
If I had to use a unit of measurement, I’d say it’ssexy as fuck.
There we are, a moment of time captured, our bodies pressed so close we could be sewn together. His hands are on my face, my hands grip the front of his shirt. The picture also tells the story of what we’ve done in the moments the camera didn’t capture. The intensity, the passion of that kiss, makes a wager we are lovers a safe bet.
Warner lets out a long, slow breath. “That’s fucking hot.”
It’s the last thing I was expecting him to say, and also the perfect response. “You’re not mad?”
“What’s there to be mad about? I can’t change it. Nor would I want to.” Warner drops what’s in his hands and moves closer to me. He pins me against the counter, one hand on either side of me, his hips grinding into me. He leans down, his voice rumbling against my ear. “I was on the receiving end of that kiss. Pretty sure that makes me the luckiest man in the world.”
My hands wrap around his middle. “It’s actually good publicity for the movie, but don’t worry. You won’t have to experience any more invasions of privacy. My mom suggested Calvin and I act like we’re a thing, and I can go that route.”
Warner leans back, looking down at me with hooded eyes. “I hope to hell you’re kidding.”
His serious tone takes me by surprise. “I’m not. Should I be?”
“Yes.” His tone is possessive. I love it. Warner leans back in, running his nose along my jaw. He is hard against my stomach, and I feel my grip on reality loosening. “You’re real dating me, Tenley. Not fake dating that asshole.”
“We’re dating?”
He breathes next to my ear. “What do you want to call it?”
I know better than to say much more. Like an animal, Warner could spook and run away. Besides, with his lips dragging across my skin like this, I’m having trouble focusing on my words, so all I manage is, “Calvin’s not an asshole.”
“Right now, he is.”
A grin pulls at my lips, but Warner swallows it with his mouth. His lips are on mine, and desire curls through me, my pulse racing, and—
“Dad!”
Warner rips himself away from me, and I turn just in time to see Charlie’s dark brown hair exiting through the back door. Warner hustles after him without a backward glance, not that I expect one.
I stand there, still in shock, two fingers pressed to my mouth where Warner’s lips were only seconds ago. I gather my purse, and my dog, and walk out of Warner’s front door.
22
