No Foolin' (Willowdale Romance Novel) (6 page)

Teague looked out at his pool and imagined that beautiful size-eight body in a bikini, lounging by the water. Maybe one strap sliding down her shoulder and him tugging the bottom off in the deep end .
 . . He shook himself from his daze. He needed to keep this strictly
business like he’d promised—for both their sakes.

He cleared his throat. “Tell the designers she’ll probably be the most photographed woman at the festival. They might want to come up with something in her size.”

Kate sat on a stool with crossed arms, jiggling her foot. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she stuck out her tongue at him. She did not look happy.

Justine let out a long, slow sigh over the phone. “And you want me to bring in someone to do hair and makeup. I’m not asking, I’m demanding.”

“Sure. But here’s the thing .
 . . we have to sneak you guys in here. The press is camped out at the end of my driveway. They’ll be all over anyone coming in or out.”

“Then explain to me how we’re going to get in.”

Teague smiled as the perfect solution hit him, one that just might make Miss Panties-In-A-Snarl over in the corner drop the glower. “I’ll send someone to get you.”

THE PHOTOGRAPHERS swarmed the Fantasy Florist delivery truck as it pulled through Teague’s gate three hours later. The deliveryman carried in two big vases filled with deep, red roses. Kate gasped, trying so
very
hard not to be impressed that she almost missed the small army following the florist, weighed down with shopping bags, makeup kits and styling tools. She plucked a card from one of the vases—probably Waterford. She knew this was just a ruse, but still, four dozen roses in crystal vases from the baddest bachelor in the world would send a shiver through any woman’s nether regions.

She opened the tiny envelope.
Kate, I’m so glad you came into my life. Teague.

Perfectly coy. She tucked the card into her pocket. When she was serving the clam linguine special a month from now, she’d need some proof to convince herself this had all really happened. She braced herself against the dark granite countertop and wondered
what next?

“Do you like them?”

She looked up at Teague, who was all smiles and hotness.
Damn him
. “Perfect diversion for the press.” She motioned toward all the strangers in the kitchen, with its terra cotta tile floor and gleaming stainless steel appliances that looked like they’d never been used. The kitchen, dining room, and living room in Mama’s house would probably all fit in this one room. What did one person do with so much space? But the space was filling up with strangers.

“Who are all these people?” she asked. Apparently it was going to take a small village to make small-town Kate Riley Hollywood ready.

Teague set his hands on her shoulders. “I think you’ll be a lot happier the next time the press catches us together.”

Trying to ignore the heat of his hands on her skin, she glared at him. But that only made him smile more, and that smile only made him look more gorgeous. She let out a little “hmph.”

A woman came at her with scissors and a smock. “Take a seat, this won’t hurt a bit. I’m Monica.”

Kate flopped down in a chair.

Monica rubbed Kate’s hair between her fingers. “What do you think about some highlights?”

“No,” Teague said. “I like her hair. It’s a beautiful color.”

“Well, we need to cut in a few layers, give it some movement,” said Justine, the slim stylist, coming up behind them. Kate wanted to offer her a snack so she wouldn’t disappear into thin air before this whole makeover thing was done.

“But not too short,” Teague said.

Why was he so concerned about her hair?

Justine and Teague circled around her like she was on display.

Kate blushed, angry at his presumption that he had any say in how her hair looked, and way too pleased he thought it was a beautiful color. “Do I get a say in this?” Tonya would kill her when she found out someone else had messed with her ’do.

“Of course,” Teague said.

Justine wedged herself between them, being so skinny and all. She pushed her cropped red hair behind her ears, releasing a whiff of something that smelled stupidly expensive. “Kate.”

She knew that look; she used it on students complaining of a stomachache before finals.
Nice try, sister.

“Kate, I don’t know how this unorthodox relationship blossomed, but if you care about Teague and his career, then you need to understand that the press expects his girlfriends to have a certain .
 . . look.
A certain style. I hope you can cooperate with us.” She smiled again, like it hurt to move her lips. Which it probably did. They were way too puffy to belong to that little body.

Kate plucked a piece of fruit from the counter and handed it to her. “Would you like an apple, darlin’?” she asked, sweet as pie.

Justine winced. “Are you going to cooperate with us?”

Kate sat back, closed her eyes, and bit into the fruit. Wave the white flag already, she was surrounded, outnumbered, defeated—done. “Fine. Like Teague said. Cut it a little, but don’t change it too much.”

By the time she was trimmed, plucked, powdered and polished, she thought she looked like her long-lost, sophisticated twin sister. Teague had watched the whole thing, just to make it extra super-duper fun. Kate saw him behind her in the huge wrought iron mirror in the living room, looking at her. She wondered what he saw.

“Quite an improvement,” Justine said, walking over with an armful of gowns. “Now, we need to get you properly dressed.” She motioned for her to take off her clothes.

“Right here?” Kate looked at Teague, who sprouted a big smile.

Justine snorted. “What? It’s not like you’re showing him anything he hasn’t seen.”

Oh no, girlfriend, the horse has not been taking that trail.

TEAGUE GAZED AT KATE, the way the hair grazed her cheeks, the way her eyes sparkled, the way her lips were plump and moist and ready for him. He wondered if he’d have the chance to feel them against his again.

He shook his head.
No.
This was business. She wasn’t interested in a relationship and neither was he, no matter how damn irresistible she looked. No matter how close they were to his bedroom. No matter how .
 . .

“Teague .
 . .” Kate was calling him.

He shook himself out of his daze. “What?”

“Seems your girlfriend’s shy about you watching us dress her,” Justine said.

“Oh, of course. I’ll go check on our travel arrangements.” He went to his office and smoothed his sweaty hands on his thighs. Why was he feeling so nervous? Kate was playing along nicely. The ruse was working. The press had only dug far enough to learn she worked as the school nurse, that she loved the fried catfish at the Jelly Jar diner—sometimes asking for seconds—and that folks in town had no idea the two of them were dating. Oh, yeah, they dug up a pregnant teenage stepsister. Was it something in the water in Willowdale?

But smokin’ Kate popped back in his mind, doing things he shouldn’t be imagining. He smiled, picturing how sexy she’d look in her new clothes. She’d been overwhelmed by the dozens of new outfits Justine had unwrapped: gowns, sundresses, shirts and pants, shoes, sunglasses. Kate’s eyes had gone wide as she’d unpacked the bags and boxes. His throat tightened, wondering how she’d look in them.

Out of them, too.

“You can come in now, Teague,” Justine called.

He was more excited than he wanted to be. He walked over to her and planted his hands on his hips, taking it all in. A sparkly blue dress the color of the summer sky clung to a body that was even curvier than he’d dreamed. It pooled around her toes, which peeked out of silver high heels. He could imagine the whole ensemble heaped on the ground.

He cleared his throat. Her hair was piled on top of her head, exposing pale shoulders and a long neck. He wanted to run his thumb along her bare skin, skate his tongue along her jaw, up to her ear. Drop that hair down to her shoulders .
 . .
Damn
. He was in trouble. He hadn’t expected this. He didn’t want to deal with this. Not now.

“Well?” Kate asked, her smile faltering as he stood there.

“Very nice,” he managed to say. He went into the kitchen, because he wasn’t certain he could keep himself from taking her in his arms and hauling her off to bed. Which wouldn’t be a problem, he’d carried her up the stairs the night before when the sleeping pill had knocked her out, and she was his “girlfriend”—they did have an audience he could claim he was trying to impress.

But Teague didn’t need a girl like her anywhere near his arms, and certainly not his heart. A girl like her would find her way in. And she wouldn’t want what she found. She wouldn’t want him—the real Teague. The Teague no one had ever wanted.

KATE LOOKED AT herself in the big mirror that hung over a couch and she didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her.
Miss Least Likely To Raise A Ruckus Or An Eyebrow
didn’t look half bad. Even so, apparently she didn’t look Hollywood enough for Teague. He’d barely squeezed out a compliment before stalking out of the room. How would she pull this off? What had she been thinking, agreeing to pose as his girlfriend? Despite plenty of cajoling from Tonya and Jeanne, she never even dressed up for Halloween, and here she was in the ultimate costume party: girlfriend to a Hollywood hunk. Insanity.

“I think that will do, Kate,” Justine said. “I’ll make arrangements for you to have a hairdresser and stylist for the premiere. We’ll have these clothes packed up and shipped with you.” She smiled primly. “I do hope you enjoy your adventure. Must be very exciting for a small-town girl to scoop up a guy like Teague.” She raised a red eyebrow. “I hope you’re aware of his track record.”

Kate gave her a great big smile. “I’m not worried about the women he’s dated.”

Justine widened her eyes. “You should be. Most of them are going to be at the Sunshine Film Festival. Better have Monica sharpen your claws before you go. Simone Peters will be thrilled to see you.”

Simone Peters. Voted
People’s
Most Beautiful Person last year. The beauty who’d reportedly prompted Teague to get that tattoo on his butt. Dread coiled through her belly as Monica, Justine and the crew filed out to the delivery van.

The black leather couch in the living room beckoned, and she flopped onto it to check in with Dina. Fifty-six voice mails and text messages waited for her. She read one.
You’ve got some major ’splaining to do,
Tonya had texted her. Exactly. She tapped out a quick message for her friends.
Surprise! We’ll have lots to talk about when I get home. Until then, XOXO.
If Tonya or Jeanne got her on the phone, they’d have the truth out of her in two seconds flat.

She called Dina, but got her voice mail, so she left a message. “Hope you’re okay. I have one crazy story to tell you when I get back, probably in a week or so. Call if you need anything and if you can’t reach me, try Tonya and Jeanne.” She hung up. And what would she do if Dina did need something? She was a world away. But Dina had never come to her before for anything more than a ride. She’d have to pin George down for a lift to work now. Unable to deal with the other messages, she turned off the phone and wandered toward the kitchen.

She heard Teague talking on the phone. “Morty, I’ve been over this with June. This is my life. I date who I want, no matter what you think. And it’s not a long term thing. You know me.”

The words stung, and Kate chastised herself for being silly. It wasn’t a long term thing—she had insisted on it. And it wasn’t even a “thing.” It was part of their deal, for crying out loud.

Teague slammed the table with his fist. “Enough. This is not going to blow my chances with Stan Remington. He wants me in his next flick. Trust me. Doesn’t anyone trust me?” He ended the call and tossed his wireless on the table.

Kate stepped into the room and cleared her throat. “Never trust anyone, wasn’t that your advice yesterday?”

He jumped when he realized she was in the room.

She wore one of the casual outfits the crew had brought her: the dark, skinny jeans Oprah had named one of her favorite things, and a silky pink t-shirt she loved enough to wear forever. The outfit was probably slumming it by Hollywood standards, but she still felt like she was showboating. It would fetch hundreds of dollars on eBay. Maybe she could take the clothes with her to sell later after she left this fantasyland. “So what am I screwing up for you now?”

“Nothing.” He walked toward her. “That was my agent. He freaks out whenever I show up with someone new. Just like my publicist and my stylist did. And you’re not only new, you’re different. Unlike anyone I’ve ever gone out with before. They don’t know how to handle you.”

Kate wondered if he regretted their agreement. She walked toward the window overlooking his pool. Several chaise lounges sat underneath a white pergola alongside the long, narrow swath of turquoise water. A fountain in the middle sprayed arcs of water into the air. Potted palm trees dotted the concrete patio. “When do we leave?” She’d be happy spending her month right here, hiding. “And where is the Sunshine Festival, anyway?”

He followed her to the window and laughed. “It’s in Maui, and we leave at six in the morning.”

She sank into a chair at the table. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten anything besides that apple. “Do you have any food?” The walls were lined with dozens of huge mahogany cabinets in the kitchen. Surely one of them held some goodies—the sweeter, the better.

Teague frowned. “I gave my chef the week off since I wasn’t going to be around. I could scrounge around in the cupboards, or we could order out.”

She perked up. “I’d love to see some of L.A. Do you think we could dodge the cameras and sneak out, Eugene? You seem to be pretty clever.”

He pulled her up by the hand. “I just might be able to arrange that.”

Teague slipped out his back door, still holding her hand. They dashed across the lush lawn, past the pool and the pool house, leaped over a low row of boxwoods, and squeezed through a hedge to the neighbor’s gate. Teague unlocked it, and pulled her over to a huge building, which turned out to be the garage.

Breathless and still holding her hand, he smiled at her. “Ready for some fun?”

She stood facing him, just like she had in front of the plane. It was too easy to imagine another kiss, so she tried to imagine a big wart on the end of his nose. Didn’t help. “I’m ready.”

She thought Teague might move in for another kiss, and she was trying to round up her defenses, when he stepped back and said, “Come on. You’re gonna love this.” He unlocked the door and flicked on a light. The place looked like a car showroom. He weaved through the dozen or so shiny sports cars, dropped her hand, and hopped on a Harley.

“You’re stealing your neighbor’s bike?” Kate asked. “Wow. You are a bad boy.”

He laughed in that way that made the pit of her stomach hum, and patted the side of the big black machine. “No, it’s my bike. My neighbor’s an architect, works all around the world. He’s never home. Said I could store my bike here for just such an occasion.” He swung his leg over the bike and sat down. “This is the first time I’ve ever taken him up on the deal. Usually I come through the front door like a normal person.”

She froze, staring at his legs wrapped around the machine.

“You haven’t done this before, have you?” He crossed his bulging arms.

Oh, there were so many things she hadn’t done. She shook her head and found her voice. “I’m a motorcycle virgin.”

He laughed and handed her a helmet before patting the seat behind him. “I promise, it won’t hurt a bit. Climb on.”

She stopped breathing for a moment.

“Straddle me,” he said.

She stared at him.
The bike, Kate, the bike.
Right. Nothing wrong with an innocent bike ride. She swung her leg over the bike and set her arms on his shoulders. She could feel the muscles through his t-shirt and knew her knees would buckle if she hadn’t already been sitting down.

“Hold on tighter or you’ll fall off. Wrap your arms around me.”

She gulped. “You’re the boss.” Sliding her hands across his abdomen, she wondered if the moan in her head had slipped through her lips. Luckily, Teague started the engine, the roar deafening her thoughts and any unintended gasps.

They zoomed down the driveway, and she glanced back at the photographers still bunched up in front of his house. They didn’t even turn to look.

Darting through the streets with a speed that sucked her breath away, Kate clung to him as they flew along the road. Her body moved with his—a whole lot closer than felt right—until they finally stopped in front of a small outdoor café. It was mid-afternoon and a waiter swept up around the empty tables. A woman in spiky gold heels walked past with three giant dogs on leashes, palm trees rustled overhead, and the sun hung in the sky like a juicy orange waiting to be picked.

I’m really in L.A.,
thought Kate.

She hopped off the bike, almost embarrassed to look at Teague after their intimate ride. Kind of felt like the morning after—without the fun.

He slid on a pair of sunglasses and traded his helmet for a ball cap. “Just call me Eugene.”

“You know I will.”

They settled at a table outside and Kate relaxed a bit. Until she remembered their trip lined up for the next day. “Do you have a movie in the Sunshine Film Festival? Is that why we have to go?”

Teague leaned back in his chair. “Yep. Supporting role in a small film that’s been getting a lot of buzz. But for me, it’s more about the networking. Stan Remington is going to be there, and if I want to break into the big time, I need to be in one of his films. It’s the action-adventure actors who make the big bucks.” He grinned his hundred-watt Hollywood smile. It was hard not to stare at him and marvel that they really made men like him. And that she was sitting right across from him.

She set her glass down and ran her finger across the condensation. “Am I really hurting your image?” Why did she care what his team of managers thought? She wasn’t his girlfriend and didn’t want to be his girlfriend—but still, it hurt hearing how inappropriate she was for him.

“So, you heard that.” He sighed. “I’m not worried about it. I’ve defied them before. It kills them that I won’t let a bodyguard tail me, but what kind of action-hero wannabe goes around with a bodyguard?” His eyes locked on hers, and Kate’s heart caught in her throat. “I know this must be weird. We probably all seem crazy to someone like you. I really appreciate you going along with this.” He sat up, snatched her hand and leaned over the condiments for a kiss.

“Teague .
 . .” She breathed his name. What was he doing? She leaned toward him and he took her face in his hands. He dragged his lips across hers and she answered back, knocking over the ketchup in the process. Her fingers curled around his forearms, tightening, as the kiss intensified. Finally, he pulled away with a smile.

Same spark as before. She was speechless.

But he wasn’t. “Don’t look now, but there’s a photographer hiding between those potted ferns across the street.” He shrugged. “Sorry to take you by surprise.”

Kate licked her burning lips. “Oh, of course. I thought it was probably something like that.” Damn. She’d gotten carried away again. Round and round she twisted the ring he’d given her. She’d have to keep up her guard—no matter what happened, no matter how often his lips came near hers or he grabbed her hand, this was all a show. They were acting.

He reached over and took her hand again. “Just in case they’re still watching.”

She nodded. “Right. Of course.” She picked up the ketchup bottle and started rearranging the table with her other hand, like this was her nurse’s station. It’s a curse being organized, really. “How many of your ex-girlfriends will be there? That’ll be a nightmare.” Her hand was still in his, and she was aware of every wiggle of a finger, every change in pressure between them. His skin was moist against hers.

“Hey, I had to face the wrath of Chief Larsen back in Willowdale. He called in an army of
paparazzi
to get back at me just for sitting in the car with you. I doubt any of my exes could do worse.”

She straightened the packs of sugar in their little black holder and then swiped away a few grains. “No, he was trying to hurt me, not you.”

He squeezed her hand, and she sucked in a surprised breath. “Why? You’re the nicest woman I’ve ever met, saving a stranger’s backside like you did.”

I’m ‘nice.’ Perfect. Every man’s dream.
“Because I won’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

She paused, wondering how much of the story to share. It had changed everything in her world. She sighed and let the words tumble out. “You heard me say we took a break after college, right? Well, a few months later when we got back together, he proposed.”

Teague’s blue eyes looked confused. “And that was a problem?”

“No, it wasn’t. I said yes.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Then the girl he slept with during our break showed up pregnant.”

“Ouch.” Another squeeze on her hand.

Kate nodded, not opening her eyes. “Yeah. He left that part out when he proposed, said he hadn’t been serious with anyone. I can’t stand a liar. Once it all came out in the wash, I gave him back the ring. He turned around and gave it to Ellen. Said it was the right thing to do, taking responsibility for his actions. I had to admire him for that, at least. He’s a good person.” The pain still tugged at Kate’s heart, all these years later. That’s why she was never going to let herself get hurt again. That feeling just didn’t ever go away. She pulled her hand from Teague’s and tucked it under her chin.

“He’s a fool who broke your heart. And now he’s married and chasing you again?”

“They divorced after two years.”

Teague frowned and leaned toward her. “He still loves you.”

She looked down. “I doubt it’s love. I think it’s just knowing that I won’t take him back. Kills him that I won’t give him a second chance. A couple times a year—if he’s single—he comes back, trying that proposal on me again. Usually when he’s had a few too many at The Hideaway.”

“Not with the same ring, I hope.”

She laughed softly. “No. He’s doesn’t actually offer up a ring. I keep trying to tell him it’s not going to happen.” She shrugged. “I doubt he’s serious, anyway.”

Teague’s jaw tightened. “You deserve better than that.”

Kate swallowed hard and forced a smile. “It’s not ever going to happen for me. And that’s fine, really.” Lordy, she talked too much when she was tired.

He sat back in his chair and cocked his head. “Just because of one disappointing guy?”