Bombshell (Hollywood A-List #1)(77)

“It’s normal,” I said. “Between five and eight.”

He took me by the chin. “She’s exceptional.”

“She is. But her reading level’s in the normal range.”

When he held my chin like that I melted into a hot puddle. He was so close to kissing me, brushing his thumb along my jaw, his face softening a little bit. I didn’t know when he’d stopped being a star to me, when I stopped seeing his real face and his movie/billboard/magazine face at the same time, but he was more gorgeous without the mental backdrop of celebrity.

“No touching in front of the little one,” I said softly. “Later, you can finish that thought.”

“I’ll finish that and a few more.” He dropped his hand.

The past few days had been perfect, and I knew it was because I’d allowed them to be. I let Brad be Brad, and I let myself drop any pretense that I was upholding a standard of behavior. He didn’t treat me like a nanny, and I didn’t act like one. I just let it go.

Maybe being outside Los Angeles made it easier. Maybe it was his determination that whatever we had wasn’t a fling. Maybe he just wore me down. But I didn’t pretend I didn’t have feelings for him. I didn’t get suddenly stupid or unrealistic. I knew we had to go back. I knew people were going to talk, and my job prospects were about to shrink to the size of a studio executive’s attention span.

Late at night, after he took me in the garage night after night, lying in the bed next to that beautiful little girl, I worried so much I shook. My heart skipped and twisted, and the pain in my chest seemed unbearable. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to go back home, and I couldn’t stay. How many more days would this last? How long before I was in the cold with no job, no Brad, and no Nicole?

I’d done everything I could to avoid this happening, and here I was, in Arkansas, falling in love with a celebrity daddy and his daughter.

Late at night, with the crickets and the breeze outside, and Nicole’s breathing next to me, I panicked.

But in the morning, whether I’d slept or not, I felt at peace. I was living a lie, but it was my lie and if I didn’t live it, who would? I dressed Nicole and brought her downstairs. I let myself be affectionate with her. I smiled at Brad with the fullness of our shared secrets. I lived the way I wanted to live, realizing finally that even when this all ended I’d learned something. I learned what I wanted. I wanted a home, a family, and a man to call my own. And when I was with him, I could pretend that life was with Brad Sinclair, not the movie star, but the man.

The only boundary I maintained was with Nicole. She couldn’t see the physical affection. We needed plausible deniability to protect her from hurt.

“As long as we have her back for school, I have no objection.” I stroked his face in the garage. He’d set blankets out over the desk and f*cked me on it in the dark. We’d taken the questions of our relationship in small bites, hammering out a plan in pieces.

“I may be in Thailand a month after you leave.”

“You won’t. It’s monsoon season. Two weeks tops.” I held up two fingers and he kissed them. “If we make it that far—”

“We will.”

“When we come to that bridge . . . I can’t even say it.”

“I’m going to call you my girlfriend. You’re going to find another job if you want. You’re going to see Nicole every night when you come over. Everything’s going to be normal.”

“You’re a real optimist.”

“Only when I’m with you.”





CHAPTER 59


BRAD


I’m dyslexic. Seriously dyslexic. It would be funny if you could see what I saw, but you’d never laugh. I’m sorry I never told you, but outside my family, no one knows but Paula and Mike. I wasn’t ready, and now I am. Because I love you.

And I hid your phone because I was trying to keep something else from you.

You can hate me for this shit, but I love you, and I’m not letting you go.

Everything sounded ridiculous and hammy. I played the admissions over and over, trying to make myself look good, then look bad, then more honest and self-effacing. In the end I was just going to say what needed saying, and I’d see how she reacted.

But Paula, she was a loose end. I had to put some ointment on that. She’d been good to me for a lot of years, and yeah, she’d had ideas about me, and said things that weren’t particularly true, but I wouldn’t hold them against her.

With Cara, Nicole, and Susan’s youngest in the front yard blowing soap bubbles, I texted Paula from the porch, speaking softly but clearly into my voice dictation app.

—Are you all right?—

—You led me on a lot of years— Led her on? Not even a little. I didn’t touch her, didn’t wink at her, didn’t do anything. I’d put a lot of effort into not saying a single sexy thing or flirting even a little because I needed her to work for me, and here she was turning that into the exact opposite.

—You know that’s not true— —I am not a stupid woman. I know how to read you— This was ridiculous. I called her from the front yard. She picked up on the first ring.

“Paula, what’s happening? You’ve gone off the rails.”

“I’ve decided to tell you something, Bradley. I don’t care about anything right now but telling you this.”