Seraphina stepped back, taking my hand to lead me into the kitchen. “My publisher’s having a fit. They’re not used to their writers being anywhere near a scandal.”
“They’re not threatening to drop you, are they?”
“No, not yet. And honestly, I don’t think they will. If anything, their marketing department will figure out this is something they can use to drive interest toward my books and the Netflix series. Plus, I’m one of their best sellers.”
“And how are you feeling about it all?”
“I’m a little freaked out,” Seraphina said. “I’ve always kept my life so private. Seeing our photo like that—it was unsettling to say the least.”
“It was to me too. I mean, where was the photographer? I thought we were totally alone.”
“I’ve thought about that. I’m thinking on top of the cliff. He probably had a lens that could capture us from far away.”
“Ivy has some ideas about how we can control this,” I said. “Would you be open to that?”
“I can’t see how it would hurt.” Seraphina went to her fancy coffee machine that spit out lattes at the punch of a button. “You want a coffee?”
“That would be great. I didn’t finish the one I was working on when Ivy sent me the photos.”
“Tell me what you like and I’ll program it in here for you.”
She was remarkably calm. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“I like lattes, two shots of espresso,” I said.
I watched as she made me a profile on her espresso machine, then programmed it with my coffee preference. I was listed as a user. Did that mean she wasn’t about to kick me to the curb over all this?
“In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t that big of a deal. But it feels like it is right now.” Seraphina grabbed a mug fromthe cupboard and set it on the machine. A split second later, two streams of espresso shot into the cup, followed by steamed milk. “But your ex is making this harder than it should be.” She handed me the drink, then turned to make something for herself.
“I don’t like the thought of you having any repercussions from this,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Will your readers be upset? I mean, I’m being painted as a callous cheater in Dana’s book.”
“Some might be. But some might love it.” She took down another mug and set it on the espresso machine. “You’re a sexy cowboy, just like some of my characters.”
I studied her for a moment. She presented as composed and unemotional. What was she really thinking?
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Truth.”
She pushed a button on the machine, her back to me. When she turned to look at me, I could see the worry in her green eyes. “This is my livelihood we’re talking about. So yes, it makes me nervous. If my readership turned on me, I’d be totally screwed.” She grabbed her coffee from the machine. “But honestly, does anyone care about who I date? I really don’t know. This is all new territory for me.”
“You seem awfully self-possessed,” I said.
She laughed softly. “It’s my super power. ‘Never let them see you sweat.’ That’s what my dad used to tell me whenever I was nervous about something.”
“Are we okay?” I asked. “Do you want me to walk out of here and let you get back to your quiet, uncomplicated life?”
“Not that long ago, I would have known the answer to that. Walking away, keeping things simple for my sake as well as Tyler’s has been my way of making it through life.”
“And now I’ve made it complicated.”
A muscle in her cheek flexed. “A little, yes. But Hunter, I don’t want to let whatever this is between us be ruined because of a tabloid story. I haven’t felt like this … about someone … for a long time. Maybe forever. Are we really going to let a little bad press get in the way?”
“I just want you to feel safe. Otherwise I’m afraid you’ll put your boots back on and never take them off.”
“For any man but you, I would tug those suckers onto my feet over a double pair of socks. But I can’t. Not with you. That doesn’t mean I’m not frightened. Being exposed and vulnerable to scrutiny, especially in the public eye, is not in my comfort zone. That’s what’s great about being a writer. I can hide inside my books. Live through my characters. But you have me all topsy-turvy. It might be foolish, but my feet love being in the sand next to yours.”
“I like that too.” She was so pretty standing there in the morning light, still wearing leggings and a tank top from her morning Pilates class.
“Let’s see what Ivy’s come up with and go from there, okay?” Seraphina asked.
