Unfortunately,helooked incredible. Of course that would be the case. These days, everything seemed to be engineered to make her feel bad. No longer the scrawny late bloomer he’d been in high school, with terrible acne and braces on his teeth, he had a clear, unblemished complexion, broad shoulders and well-defined biceps. And the white cotton of his T-shirt contrasted nicely with his dark tan and cornflower-blue eyes. Those long, golden eyelashes matched the lighter streaks in his hair and had always been attractive, but now they were positively dreamy.
She preferred the tall, lanky physique of her husband—soon-to-be ex-husband—she told herself. She’d always likedbasketball players. But she could see how some women would find Julian’s stockier frame appealing. He looked incredibly strong.
“You don’t feel even the least bit sorry for me?” she said.
“Looks like you’ve got that covered.” A crooked smile coupled with a wink softened his words, but she took exception to them all the same.
“My husband just... My husband dropped me without any warning and hasn’t looked back since, Jules,” she said, easily and automatically falling back on the nickname his closest friends and family had always used. “This was the man I was hoping to have a family with—the man I was hoping to grow old with.”
His muscular shoulders lifted in a shrug. “He’s also the man who doesn’t deserve you. Good riddance to Clifford Jackson—that’s what I say.”
“Because he’s a professional athlete?”
“Because he’s a selfish bastard.”
She stiffened in surprise. “How wouldyouknow?”
“It’s obvious from the way he plays ball.” He opened the doors to her closet and stepped inside.
“What are you doing?” It looked like he was rifling through her suitcase, which was lying open on the floor. She hadn’t bothered to unpack. Why would she? She’d been hoping Cliff would invite her back to the gorgeous Malibu mansion she used to call home.
“Finding something for you to wear,” he replied.
“I’mnotcoming down to dinner,” she reiterated.
“I know.” There was a plop as he tossed some of her clothes to the side. “We’re going out.”
“What?”
His voice drifted to her, once again, from inside the closet. “You heard me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she argued.
He took a moment to poke his head out. “It might look weird if I’m carrying you over my shoulder, but I guess that’s up to you.”
She felt her jaw drop. “You’re saying you’ll haul me out of here if you have to?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re not going to let Clifford Jackson get the best of you—that’s why.”
She considered his response, found it somewhat empowering and, therefore, appealing. “How do you propose we stop him?”
“We’re going to be seen around LA, make sure we’re photographed together and leak those pictures to every online source that might be interested.”
That would be a long list. For the news outlets, it’d be almost like receiving shots of Hailey Bieber hanging out with another man if she ever split with Justin. “You want to make him think we’re seeing each other? That I’ve already moved on?”
“He can think whatever he wants as long as he knows you’re not sitting in your room—” he poked his head out again “—crying over him.”
“What about the evidence?” she grumbled. “You don’t think my swollen eyes and red face will give me away?”
“That’s what makeup and sunglasses are for.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip as the nasty online comments she’d read about herself floated through her mind. It wouldn’t help her broken heart, but maybe itwouldfeel good to salvage a portion of her pride... “You really believe we can sell it?”
“Why not? Any woman would want to be seen with me. After all, I’m a hell of a good-looking guy.”
