“You ready?” Tucker asked. They were attending the premier of some race car movie.
Kenzie was all Hollywood glitter today for their first red-carpet appearance. Her red hair had been curled and pinned so it managed to both be up and down at the same time. Even her dress sparkled. She looked stunning. “Absolutely.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what lay under all the glitter. All the shine. All the expected. She had a bite to her, that was for certain. His admission in the office and her subsequent dismissal was proof of that. Still, it didn’t fit. She was a fantastic actress, but he’d caught a glimpse of something when he’d admitted his feelings for her. What? Well, who knew? In the moment, he’d thought it was reciprocation. She’d promptly blown that theory to hell.
Tucker angled himself so he could exit the limousine when they came to a stop. He’d go first, assist Kenzie and block the paps’ view while she adjusted her dress. Take her arm. Smile and wave. Shake some hands as they passed the bleachers erected for the occasion.
Then the kiss.
Fuck. The kiss. Lips and all that shit.
The kiss would announce they were red-carpet official as a couple. Something Jessica had ensured brewed in the headlines over the past week.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss Kenzie. She was, after all, Mackenzie Bennett. So, yeah, on a primal level a lip-lock wouldn’t suck. He just preferred not to tangle with a woman who so actively disliked him.
It was a personal choice.
“Should we have a secret abort-the-mission code?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow at him like an expert. “Why would we need that?”
“In case we run into an ex on the red carpet? Get a reporter who asks too many questions? Decide we’d rather go have sushi?”
She shrugged, fidgeting with some of the silver rhinestones decorating her dress. “Once we step out of this car, pretty sure we’ll pass the point of no return.”
“Still, a word or a gesture might be good to let each other know we’re in over our head.”
“What do you propose we use?” They were creeping up to their spot. Not much time to decide at this point.
His phone rang in his pocket. He’d set it to silent—with one exception.
“Mom,” he said, ducking his head slightly to the side.
“That nice reporter lady came by today.”
Sonofabitch.
The paparazzi werealwaysthere. Partially because they wanted a good Tucker story, but mostly because his mother invited them in for her famous meatloaf. She loved the company, and they were more than willing to shoot the shit with her.
He growled inside. “I told you not to invite them inside.”
“Psh. I didn’t talk about you, no need to worry.” He did worry, because he’d learned early on in his career that his mother, bless her soft heart, opened her mouth to reporters far too often. He made certain not to share any information about the sticky side of his career. Like the game of bait-the-paparazzi he was entangled in with Kenzie.
“They said you’re seeing that Mackenzie Bennett.” Her statement was entirely too innocent.
He hadn’t mentioned the Kenzie situation to his mother. The last time she’d caught wind he was dating a movie star, she’d nearly flown out to Los Angeles to stalk his for-the-camera fake girlfriend.
“I’m headed to an event,” he dodged. “I’ll have to call you back when it’s over.”
“Oh, is she there? Right now? With you?” He could picture her perfectly. Sitting at the worn wooden kitchen table—she always sat there when she felt chatty and picked up the phone—the cell phone he and his siblings insisted she use pressed against her ear.
She was always “dressed to shoes,” as she put it. Always ready for company—even if that company was a wild pack of reporters. “It’s just nice to have visitors,” she always said.
He called bullshit. She reveled in the attention.
His father? Not so much.
“Mom.” A quick glance to Kenzie and his breath caught.
