LOL: Laugh Out Loud (After Oscar, #2)(91)

To my astonishment, every single one of the photographers nodded, several of them mumbling their agreement. It was astonishing. I’d never seen anything like it.

Scotty then clapped his hands and flashed a million-dollar smile. “Great. Now that we have that sorted, we’ll take a few questions before heading back inside. Who’s first?”

“Are the two of you a couple?” the first woman asked.

“Yes,” I answered with a big smile, beating Scotty to the punch.

“He’s trying to lock it down,” Scotty said with a laugh. “You heard it here first. We’re going steady. And what’s your name?” he asked the woman.

She frowned, clearly surprised by the question. “Um… Amanda.”

“Great, thanks, Amanda. Who’s next?”

“Why are you in Vermont?” another reporter asked.

“And your name is?” Scotty asked.

“Zachary,” he said.

“Thanks, Zachary. Roman finished filming Deep Cut and was going to take some time off to unwind. When he realized the place where he was staying had a stable for my horse, he offered for us to join him.”

Total lie, but I would have done just that if I’d truly understood how much he needed it. And he knew it.

“Scotty, is it true your mother just got out of prison?” another asked.

Scotty looked at the man, clearly waiting for something else, and the man shuffled a moment before saying, “Oh, yeah, I’m Ralfie.”

“Thanks, Ralfie. Nice to meet you. Yes, it’s true,” Scotty said confidently. “She and I have both struggled with poverty since she dropped out of high school to raise me, and that’s led to some poor decisions. Thankfully, Roman has been very understanding since he himself has made poor decisions in the past like we all have. Cough, Back Passage, cough. We both agree that our past is what helps inform our future, and we can learn from our mistakes to become better people. Roman, did you have anything to add?”

“Mostly that I love you. Like, a lot. A staggering amount, really.”

He stared at me in surprise, the pink of his cold cheeks blooming into the deeper red of a blush.

“You’re beautiful and kind and real, and I’m…” My throat thickened, and I tried swallowing. “And I’m so lucky to know you.”

Scotty’s eyes filled and he cleared his throat, trying to fight the emotion. He turned back toward the group of reporters, who looked shell-shocked at my public admission. “That’s all fair game to print,” he told them, and they laughed. I realized he had them eating out of the palm of his hand. Because he saw them as people, individuals with names and families and jobs and responsibilities.

It was the same thing he’d done to me. He’d looked past the superstar persona to find the real me. Because that’s who he was: genuine, and kind, and attentive, and generous, and loving, and hot as fuck.

And mine. I reached up a hand to his cheek, drawing my thumb along his jaw. I leaned in close, pressing my lips to his ear so only he could hear. “I love you, Scotty Pinker.”

I felt him tremble, and I tightened my arms around him. “I love you too, Roman Burke,” he murmured against my neck. For a moment we stayed that way, inseparable. And there were no camera flashes, no sound of shutters closing. They were giving us this moment because they knew it belonged to us alone.

I took a moment to inhale the scent of Scotty, of hay and outdoors and new love. Then I pulled back and dropped a kiss on his nose, basking in the adoration in his eyes, before turning to the paparazzi. “You’ll want to have your cameras ready for this one,” I told them.

As soon as they were ready, I took Scotty in my arms and kissed him again for all he was worth.





27





Scotty - September





Superstar And Stable-Boy Partner Settle Near Summit Hill



When your boyfriend comes running out of your new barn at top speed, hops in your carriage, and screams, “Go!”—you go.

You don’t stop and ask for a kiss. Or a hug. Or an explanation of why he’s naked. You simply follow his shouted orders about where to drive.

At least, that’s what I did when it happened to me.

After the sexy man jumped in shouting, I snapped the reins on Nugget’s big brown ass and felt the carriage lurch along the dirt trail into the woods. Fat rabbits and terrified squirrels leaped out of the way, spilling mouthfuls of nuts and tripping over their tails and feet to skitter into the underbrush.

Onward we surged. It was a race toward the swimming hole, or so I assumed. I hunkered down in my seat and sallied forth up Summit Hill toward the waterfall. There was blessedly nothing around us. No press, no lookie-loos, no friends or family or meddling neighbors anywhere within the hundred-and-fifty-acre property we now owned in Connecticut.

“Are we heading to the swimming hole?” I called back with a laugh. “And why are you naked?

“Just go!” he shouted. I could hear the smile in his voice.

When we reached the edge of the swimming hole, I turned around in time to see Roman climb over the seat to join me in the front. Sun angled down through the trees and lit up his handsome face as well as his chest, which was unfortunately still bare from the waxing he’d had to do for his new film. I reached out and smoothed a hand across it.