“Are you close with them now?” I asked. “Your parents.”
She turned her head to look at me and then gently ran her fingers through my hair. “I thought so.” She exhaled, her brow furrowing, and I wanted to reach up and smooth every worry from her forehead. “They were upset that I left Michael. Given what Michael said to me the other day, I’m pretty sure they’re losing their minds over me doing this movie, but I wouldn’t know for sure because we haven’t spoken in months. It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t know if I could bring myself to take their calls even if they were talking to me.”
Her gaze drifted to the window behind me and the snowy early morning sky visible just beyond the glass. “It’s funny—I’ve spent my life pretending to be part of these perfect families for TV, and now here I am, basically without a family of my own, even though that’s all I’ve ever really wanted. Just like in the TV shows and movies: big dinners, crowded houses, everyone talking and hugging and teasing and cooking.” A small smile. “Kids everywhere.”
Her words carved a hole in my chest. I wanted to give Winnie everything her heart ached for, but the idea of giving her a family... I was drunk on the very thought. Even though everything in me knew that could never be us. I wasn’t exactly father material. Tamara’s kids had hated me as babies. Just making eye contact with me was enough to make them scream their heads off.
But I couldn’t ignore the feeling that had been ballooning in my chest since the moment I saw Winnie in the Hope Channel offices just last month.
I loved Winnie Baker. And it wasn’t the floaty, fuzzy kind of love. It was the kind of love that made my bones ache with want and sadness at the thought of her not being near.
I wanted to keep her forever. I wanted to steal her away and introduce her to my mom. God, my mom would love Winnie. Dad too. She’d charm the hell out of them. Tamara would probably try to see if she was being held against her will or something.
On the other side of the room, my phone rang, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was leaving this bed. “Growing up,” I told her, “it was just me, my parents, and sister, but we always felt like a big family. I was never alone. I think that’s why Nolan hung around so much too. In fact, our family sort of just absorbed his at some point. Maybe it was when INK really blew up. Our moms got close. No one else knew what it was like to be the mothers to two global pop stars. At least not anyone else in Kansas City.”
“Your family sounds great. Maybe one day I’ll meet them. Especially the famous Tamara. I’ve got to witness her for myself.”
I pulled her close to me and pressed my smiling lips to her temple. “My mom loves your movies,” I admitted. “She and Dadwatch them every year. She’s really hoping the Hope Channel finally makes a Hanukkah movie.”
“How is that not a thing yet?” she asked.
“I don’t know. But if they can do sexy Santa, I’m pretty sure there’s a market for a Jewish holiday rom-com.”
She yawned as she placed a hand to my chest and rested her cheek there. “I can’t believe the shoot is already over.”
“You still technically have one more day,” I reminded her. I’d wrapped last night and Winnie had just a quick scene before the whole thing was done.
“Sure, sure,” she said. “But it’s basically done. We made a sexy movie.” Her voice began to fade as she drifted to sleep. “Yay.”
I kissed her again on the forehead.
We made a sexy movie.
I was in love.
It hurt like hell.
Yay.
My phone rang over and over again until I forced my eyes open to see sunlight spilling in through the window of my hotel room.
The ringing stopped.
And then it started again.
“All right, all right, all right,” I muttered as I delicately untangled myself from Winnie and replaced myself with a feather pillow for her to rest her head on.
I tugged on a pair of jeans and a Slice, Slice, Baby hoodie before stepping out into the hall just as the call went to voicemail.
“Well, if it isn’t Santa himself,” called a voice.
I spun around to see Teddy Ray Fletcher stepping off the elevator. He wore flannel pajama pants, a Dave Matthews Band T-shirt, and a corduroy blazer, with two paper cups of black coffee in his hands.
I stumbled forward with my hand outstretched. “Uh, Mr.Fletcher—or is it Uncle Ray-Ray? I’m a huge fan of your work, sir.”
I had yet to meet the producer ofSanta, Babyin the flesh. Even though we’d spoken over a few video calls, it was hard not to be a little starstruck. Teddy was responsible for some of my all-time favorites.Tightanic,A Tale of Two Titties,Sext in the City, andMILF Super Bowl XXII.
“My work?” he asked with a snort, waving my hand away. “You’ll always be the one who got away for me. Do you know how hard I tried to license that sex tape of yours?”
