Chapter 2 — My New Favorite

"Because she hasn't let me leave it," Jamie told the phone.

I shoved him with my foot beneath the blanket.

He caught my ankle and looked outrageously pleased.

"Don't move," Tessa said. "I'm coming over."

I ended the call.

"You could have told me."

"You weren't asking about my family last night."

"Jamie."

He let go of my ankle, although his thumb took its time leaving my skin.

"Would you have sent me home?"

"Probably."

The amusement vanished so quickly that I regretted answering.

He picked up the tray.

"Then I suppose I should thank you for waiting until breakfast."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make me feel like I've kicked you."

He looked at me, holding the tray between us.

"I'm trying to work out whether last night was you wanting me or you being angry with him."

The question wasn't playful. I reached for his wrist again.

"Both things can be true at the beginning."

"And now?"

I let my gaze move over him deliberately.

His ears turned red.

"Now," I said, "put the breakfast down before you drop it."

He did. Then he leaned over me until I was against the pillows.

"That isn't an answer."

"It was enough to make you come closer."

His mouth curved.

"You're going to use that against me, aren't you?"

I pulled him down by the collar.

The knock downstairs interrupted us before I could enjoy the answer.

Tessa arrived carrying a baseball bat. I met her in the kitchen wearing a robe and the expression of a woman who had run out of sensible explanations.

"I can explain," I said.

"Good. He can explain first."

Jamie came downstairs behind me.

Tessa pointed the bat.

"I asked you to look after her."

"I did."

"That shirt had all its buttons yesterday."

"Quality problem."

I stepped between them.

"Nobody ambushed anybody. I invited him."

Tessa stared at me, then at him.

"You certainly invited somebody," she muttered.

"What does that mean?"

Jamie reached around me for the coffee pot. Tessa's gaze followed his hand, and something silent passed between them.

"It means don't waste your money on him," she said. "He doesn't need it."

"I'm not destitute," Jamie agreed. "But I'd like emotional sponsorship."

"Stop talking," Tessa told him.

She stayed long enough to eat two pieces of toast and tell me I could call her if he became unbearable. When she left, she took him onto the front steps for a private conversation.

I caught one sentence through the doorway.

"Don't let her find out from somebody else."

When he returned, I raised an eyebrow.

"Family lecture?"

"She thinks I should behave."

"A reasonable concern."

He came straight to me, put his hands on my waist, and rested his forehead against my shoulder.

"Are you keeping me?"

I put a hand against the back of his neck.

"You're making yourself difficult to return."

My work phone rang. Owen had assembled the original messages Sloane had sent, the fabricated invoice, and the record of our payment.

She had threatened to release private photographs of Ethan. He had begged me to keep it quiet while he persuaded her to stop.

Apparently his method involved publicly calling her his girlfriend.

"Send the evidence to counsel," I told Owen. "No private photographs in the press statement. Notify Ethan that all contract discussions go through you now."

"You don't want to speak with him?"

Jamie went still against me.

"I wanted that for three years," I said. "He had time."

After I ended the call, Jamie lifted his head.

"Can I have this afternoon?"

"What for?"

"You. In daylight. Somewhere people can see us."

I looked at him.

"You know the press will make a story out of it."

"They're already making a story out of you. I'd like to be in the correct one."

So I took him shopping.

At the jewelry store, he refused a watch and asked to see matching rings instead.

"Ambitious," I said.

"You asked what I wanted."

He chose a plain band for himself and a small crown-shaped setting for me. When he took my hand, his fingers were steady until the ring reached my knuckle.

"You can say no," he said quietly.

"You'd make a dreadful face."

"Probably."

I held my hand out farther.

"Which finger?" he asked.

I looked at the ring, then at the nervousness he was trying to conceal.

"You're buying jewelry. Why are you suddenly afraid of making a choice?"

"Because people read things into rings."

"You asked for matching ones."

"Yes."

"So let them read."

He rested the ring against my right hand, his thumb lingering beneath the knuckle. I watched the contact instead of the diamond, letting him see exactly what interested me.

He noticed.

"You're going to make me very difficult to live with," he said.

"Were you easy before?"

"For someone else, possibly."

I tilted my hand to inspect the setting. He kept holding it as though the purchase wasn't finished until I decided to let him go.

He slipped the ring on, and the pleasure in his face made the purchase feel strangely more intimate than the morning we'd spent together.

"Now you're pleased with yourself," I said.

"Now I can take a picture."

I reached for my card. The associate informed me Jamie had paid.

"With what?" I asked after we left.

"Savings."

"You're an actor?"

"Occasionally."

"Successful?"

"You would've heard of me if I were."

He showed me a photograph of our hands. His caption read: She finally noticed me.

"Finally?"

"You'd be surprised how patient I can be."

I studied him. He held my gaze until I opened my own account and posted the picture.

Try not to spoil him. That's my job.

For a moment he didn't move.

Then he pulled me into the narrow space beside our car and kissed me, one hand beneath my jaw, the other against the small of my back.

I heard a camera somewhere across the pavement.

"There's your publicity," I murmured.

"There's my afternoon," he answered.

At dinner, Tessa complained that the photograph had reached everyone she knew.

Jamie sat close enough that his knee touched mine beneath the table. I shifted away. He followed by an inch.

"Do you need a separate chair?" I asked.

"I'd prefer a shared one."

Tessa covered her eyes.

The evening was warm, ridiculous, and almost easy.

Then Sloane shouted my name from beside the service station.

She held a deep bowl in both hands.

I saw steam rise from it.

Jamie's hand closed around my waist just as she threw the contents toward my face.