Lyla had locked the bedroom door, but he hadn’t come knocking on it. She left him sleeping on the couch when she went to breakfast because she didn’t even know what time he’d gotten back to the room.
For all she knew, he’d gone on another drinking binge. A guy like him could find friends, or rather drinking buddies, and a warm bed, in any state or country.
She’d gone for a wander around the resort and perused the gift shop before the walking tour group met in the lobby. Trick had shown up, just seconds before they were going out the door. His arrival delayed their departure another twenty minutes, as he signed autographs and told stories.
Yeah, the guy could turn it on for his fans, no doubt about that.
The tour included a picnic lunch, during which Trick was surrounded by people who wanted to be his new best friend meaning Lyla was spared having to talk to him all day.
Dinner that night was a buffet and they’d ended up at a table full of more adoring Trick fans, but she didn’t care, in fact, she was grateful, because it saved her from a repeat of the previous night.
Trick told her to take the bedroom again that night and she was glad to because at least the door had a lock and she didn’t have to worry about him accidently falling into bed with her. Lyla guessed he was happy to be out in the living room because it gave him freedom to come and go as he wanted, with whoever he wanted.
Saturday was spent by the pool. Trick missed breakfast again; she was learning that he didn’t keep regular hours. While she swam and read, he stayed in the jacuzzi being adored by those who recognized him.
They did some interviews in the evening and ended up eating dinner in the room with the crew as Paul lectured them on interacting more.
But they had a flight to catch on the Sunday and by the time they packed and made it to the airport in their minibus, everyone seemed ready to leave Florida behind.
The next step for her was moving in to Trick’s place.
The camera crew got every second of her packing up the last of her things in her apartment. Trick had to go to the studio and so he disappeared, leaving her and a couple of guys from the station who were dressed up like movers, to take her possessions out of her apartment.
She wasn’t moving her furniture. In fact, Lyla was keeping her place because she wasn’t ready to part with it yet and selling an apartment she loved was a big deal to her. If the honeymoon had taught them all anything it was that this relationship wasn’t going to last beyond the contract.
It felt weird going into Trick’s place without him there. Paul gave her a tour and then they did take after take of her snooping around the place, though she didn’t say much about the things they set her up to find. So what if he drank a lot of beer and there were a ton of empty liquor bottles? Did it matter if he had a porn stash? And why was his internet search history her business? It wasn’t.
It was nice that there was a note on the fridge from Trick saying she should make herself at home and that he wouldn’t get back until she was asleep.
No, because his radio show was live from ten to midnight, and she had to get to work in the morning, so she wasn’t going to wait up.
Sleeping in his guest room was no different to sleeping in a hotel or at a friend’s house. Yes, it smelled like Trick and that was a little bit weird, but it didn’t take her long to get to sleep.
Monday was one of the oddest days of her life.
No.
It was the oddest day of her life.
And that was including the day she’d married a complete stranger.
Some people at work went out of their way to come over to her. Most people just pointed and whispered.
Keeping her head down, Lyla tried her best to just do her work. That was all she wanted to do. Luckily, the camera crew had split before she got to her desk. So, this was just her, working.
“You know he only did it for the show.”
Looking up from her desk, she saw the Cronies surrounding her. “I know,” Lyla said to Faith.
The three women were holding cardboard coffee cups, and Lyla cast her eyes to the clock on her desk. Hmm. She’d missed lunch. Well that was fine, she didn’t really relish the idea of sitting in the canteen with her packed lunch getting gawked at anyway.
“It’s not like he knew who you were before he agreed to do it,” Chelsea said.
“I know,” Lyla said again. If these women thought they were going to get a rise out of her or upset her, they were sadly mistaken, she smiled. “Still got married before you did though.”
The women faltered as someone squawked and hubbub started on the far side of the room. The trio around her desk turned to check it out; they did have to be the center of everything after all. Except as she glanced around to look over the shoulder-high screen that surrounded her desk, Lyla was surprised to see Trick there at the edge of the room scanning the space. People were crowding him, but he was looking right over their heads, something he didn’t normally do. Usually he was attentive and patient with fans or anyone clamoring for his attention.
God, had something happened?
Pushing away from her desk, she rounded the Cronies, ignoring their questions and rushed from her secluded corner over to the man who was being mobbed by the research department; a group who weren’t known for playing it cool.
Trick scanned right past her, then stopped and looked back, his head tilting in a smile as he recognized her and began to move through the people who were drafting around him. Trick reached toward her, she put her hand in his and he curled their fingers together like they were about to engage in a thumb war or something.
Trick pulled them together and with his other hand he picked her glasses off her nose to push them up into her hair as he dipped to kiss her cheek.
His lips rose to her ear. “Can I take you out for coffee?”
Looking left and right, Lyla felt it necessary to acknowledge that there were a dozen people around them still baying for his attention, not because they were there, she was getting used to his fans, but because it should make one point obvious. “I’m working,” she said.
“I know,” he said, keeping the link of their hands tight together as he took her hand up to his lips. “But I managed to ditch Paul and I’ll be filming all afternoon. I don’t have long before the cameras catch up with us.”
Then why did he seek her out? And why wasn’t he trying to grab her boobs? This had to be important. “We shouldn’t go out in public if you’re worried about us having an audience,” she said. It was weird how easily she managed to blank out the people crowding them as long as she kept her focus on his eyes just like he’d told her to on the plane. “Come here.”
Keeping his hand, she led him away from the others to the far side of the room to one of the quiet study rooms they usually reserved for audio work. There was a glass panel in the wall that meant they’d still be visible from the bullpen. But when Lyla closed the door and slid the lock, the engaged light came on. Like anyone who wanted in couldn’t just look through the glass and see someone was working inside. Nope, they needed the light too apparently.
Except, well, she wasn’t working, not as Trick guided her over to the desk and propped himself on the edge to draw her into the vee of his thighs, resting his hands on her hips.
“Is everything ok?” she asked, touching his face, then she remembered what had happened the last time she did that, so she dropped her hand.
“Have you seen the schedule this week?” She nodded. “It’s insane.” She nodded again. “We’re not going to get any time alone.”
“Have we ever had any time alone?” she asked.
It felt like every second they were under some kind of scrutiny. Even now, although he’d put her back to the part-glazed internal wall, she knew her colleagues would probably be watching. He straightened his back, then kind of sagged in a gesture suggesting he was about to say something, except he didn’t speak.
When he swiped his tongue over his lip she got more impatient. “Trick, would you just—”
“I’m sorry.”
Part of her wanted to look around for the camera, another part wanted to lift his tee-shirt to look for a wire. “You’re what? For what?”
“This is messed up and I don’t think either of us bargained on how messed up it would be.”
Conceding a nod, Lyla had to admit she hadn’t had a clue what a rollercoaster this would be. “Ok.”
“I have to be a certain way for the cameras, you know, the… personality. It’s—”
“An act,” she said and nodded. “I know. I have figured that much out.”
He smiled. “You’re a smart one, Malloy.”
In the sunroom, on the plane, even on their honeymoon when he offered her the bedroom every night, he showed a different side of himself. Trick didn’t always say inappropriate things and act like a letch, he only did that when someone was watching them. Sure, sometimes his innuendos didn’t hit the mark, and some of his jokes weren’t funny, but he was much easier to get along with when they didn’t have an audience.
“When we’re alone you treat me with respect. When we’re not, you don’t.”
“And that’s why I’m sorry,” he said. “I upset you when I said… what I said… at the dinner table.”
Oh, so that was what he was talking about? Then why were his hands sliding up and down her hips now? Was he feeling more than he should? Was he about to take her by surprise with another insult?
Lyla slapped her hands onto his, stalling them against her hips. “You didn’t have to say that. I know dinner was a bust and I shouldn’t have touched your face, or… responded when you…”
“When I kissed you?” he asked, slipping one hand out from under hers to curl it around the side of her neck that he’d kissed. “I probably shouldn’t have done that either.”
“No,” she said, taking both of his hands to bunch them in hers to move them between their bodies. “You do have a habit of touching me more than you need to… Trick, I’ll admit to knowing that when you act in shocking ways you’re doing it for a reaction from me, or for the cameras, I know that. But… I have to admit to not having a clue who you actually are behind the façade.”
He let his hands fall from hers onto his thighs that she was still standing between and he shocked her again by letting his head fall against her shoulder. He just laid his head there for the longest time and she didn’t have a clue what to do. It took her a good minute before she let her hand curl around the back of his neck.
“Malloy, you’re not the only one,” he mumbled.
Turning her lips toward his hair, she almost felt bad, but had to ask. “This isn’t some sneaky way I haven’t figured out for you to cop a feel, is it?”
He laughed and the heat of that exhale moved through her baggy sweater and managed to reach the sensitive peak of her breast that hadn’t been awakened by a man in a long time. He blinked as he straightened, kind of, and looked at her. The exhaustion in him made her peer closer, what was he hiding? What was so awful that he had to keep up this front all the time?
But her contemplation was broken when his hands slid up under her sweater to cup her waist beneath it over her tank top. “Why do you wear this stuff?”
“What stuff?” she asked, trying to be subtle in her attempts to pull his hands out of her sweater because her coworkers would be watching every nuance, but she couldn’t encourage this behavior, even if it wasn’t an overtly sexual move.
“Your clothes. You pick all this baggy, shapeless stuff that covers every inch of you. Look at it. It goes right up to your neck, all the way to your wrists and your pants probably don’t even have a decent ass in them, not that I can tell ‘cause that sweater goes halfway down your legs.”
Sneering at his exaggeration, Lyla only smiled when he mirrored her growl in a fake mocking. “I wear clothes that are comfortable,” she said. “I don’t have a figure that—”
His eyes widened with interest. “Oh, I can’t wait for you to finish that sentence. Malloy, you have an amazing figure and if you say anything else, you’re just flat-out lying to me… Why would you lie to your husband?”
Her smile got wider because this was the kind of teasing she could handle. “It’s not that I don’t have a figure, it’s just… I don’t see why everyone else has to see my body all the time and it… it changes things.”
“What changes things?” he asked and she was surprised that he appeared genuinely interested in what she was saying. “Your body?” She nodded. “Because when people see you have a killer body they…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but his smile intrigued her. “You’re goddamn smart, babe.”
“I’m—”
“You didn’t even see it. In the hotel, that first day when you came out of the bathroom in your bikini, all us guys were panting.”
“You were…? Oh, Trick,” she groaned, trying to push away, but he pulled her back so quickly that her body bounced into his and he slid his hands from her waist around to splay them on her back, holding her to him.
Pressing her hands to his shoulders, Lyla didn’t put up too much of a fight. This wasn’t bad, he wasn’t trying to be all over her, he was just holding her. Yes, she could encourage this kind of touching; it might discourage the other kind.
“We were,” he said. “And you’re right, our opinions of people do change based on their body type. It’s not fair; it’s just the way it is.”
“I just like to be comfortable,” she said.
“And not drooled on, I get that,” he said. “But you’re a married woman now, you can relax a bit.”
She didn’t understand. “Being married means I should take my clothes off?”
He nodded, selling his line as serious. “In the apartment, yes, as much as possible, in fact we introduced naked Tuesdays just last week.”
Did he ever stop flirting or thinking about sex? The teasing… was this what Sadie had meant about her having fun with him? Or was this the kind of behavior that encouraged women to get naked with him?
“Have you had sex with Sadie?” she asked, making some connections in her mind.
“Yes,” he said and she was surprised that he didn’t skirt the issue or try to avoid the question. “Years ago, we’re just friends now.” He peered at her. “Does that bother you? That I work with her?”
Lyla shook her head. “No, who you sleep with and who you work for are none of my business.”
“It’s a bit your business,” he said. “We’re married.”
She didn’t ask about Sadie as Trick’s wife; it was her curiosity that made her ask. The same thing that made her good at her job made her question probably more than she should. “But we’re not married for real.”
“Funny, I didn’t print that marriage certificate from the internet, did you?”
Rolling her eyes, she pinched his shoulder. “No, I meant, it’s not like we married for love. If we loved each other then yes, I would have a major problem with you seeing your ex every day. But we don’t.”
“She’s not really an ex,” he said, sort of considering it as he shrugged. “It was a casual thing, only lasted about a week.”
“She’s had you longer than I have.”
Something about the way his eyes lit up made her wonder about the significance of what she’d said. Lyla wasn’t great at reading between the lines. “I never married her.” True and she had to concede that. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever married and that’s why I had to come down here to apologize. You’re right, we didn’t marry for love. But we’re married and we have to live together. I can’t keep avoiding you or punishing you for my misconceptions.”
“Your misconceptions?”
He tipped his head to the side and let one corner of his mouth curl. “Let’s just say, my opinion of you changed when I saw you in that bikini too.”
“Trick,” she said and again tried to move out of his arms, but he didn’t let her go. In fact, he tried the puppy-dog eyes on her as his hands slid further up her back to settle between her shoulder blades, beneath her sweater on top of the tank she wore under it. “I don’t want you thinking about sex around me. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“No kidding,” he said and that earned him another pinch. “Paul tore me a new one this morning talking about how we have to have more conflict. The avoiding each other thing isn’t working for them… So, I figured I could keep pushing you until you either have me arrested or you divorce me, or I could come down here and lay it out straight for you.”
So, the apology was a prologue. “Ok, lay it out straight.”
“I’m gonna be a letch. I’m gonna piss you off trying to touch you and tease you. After Paul left, I called my sister and she seemed to think it was a good idea to let you know I’m not actually a pervert.” Lyla let a laugh burst from her lips. “I think I forget that people don’t know that about me. That you don’t know me. And I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me, ok?”
Lyla sighed. “And my role in this is to put you in your place. To argue and object,” she said and he nodded. It was just as possible that Paul had told Trick to talk to her, maybe this wasn’t a genuine apology at all. But she still appreciated being kept apprised of what was going on. Trick seemed to care more about her point of view than the studio did. “What if I want you to stop?”
“Tell me to stop.”
She shook her head. “But if I’m pushing your hands away telling you not to do something, isn’t that me telling you to stop? Would you act that way with a woman in a club?”
The amusement that sprang to his face was confusing. “I’ll be honest, babe, most of the time when I tell a woman I want her, I get her,” he said. When he saw that she wasn’t smiling or even a tiny bit impressed, he cleared his throat. “But, uh, if a woman said no, I’d just move on to the next one… ‘Cept I can’t really do that with you.”
It was sort of a sad existence in a way, and she wondered if he knew that. “You’re worth more than someone will pay for you, Trick.” The flash of his frown told her that he didn’t get it. “You host these shows. You have your fame and your entourage when you go places… It’s all one big machine that you’re at the center of… It’s sort of sad that there’s no emotion involved, no real connections, it’s all just… shallow.”
“That’s the point,” he said. “That’s the personality.”
Which might have worked ten years ago, or more, when he started doing this, but he wasn’t a stupid kid anymore. “Is it ever difficult?” she asked, finding herself more curious about the man behind the mask now that he admitted to wearing it. “Don’t you ever get tired of playing the playa?”
He shrugged. “It’s easy money.” Her brows rose and he exhaled a laugh. “Ok, I get it, how much someone will pay for me, ok.” Taking a deep breath, he sank a bit lower in his slouch, widening his thighs around her. “I don’t screw around as much as the press report. Most of the stories sold by women are bullshit.”
“You never refute them.”
“Why would I? It goes with the image and if the girls need a few bucks, why should I stop them from getting it?”
“Off your reputation,” she said. “They’re using you.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but I used plenty of women when I was trying to build the rep, in the early days. It’s karma, right? The screwing around is kinda tiring now, I mean not the screwing.” He wiggled his brows. “I’ve got plenty of stamina, baby.”
“That’s good to know,” she said almost like a parent being patient with a child.
“Just in case, you know,” he said and winked at her. Yeah, there was a joker in him and a flirt. This level she could handle, it was the other guy who pushed her too far. “But yeah, the stranger in my apartment or waking up in a strange place, the small talk, the ‘I’ll call you’ even though I wouldn’t, yeah, that got old a while ago.”
“And the drinking?”
“I like going out with my boys,” he said. “But we probably only have one heavy night every month or two now. The others, we’re out for an hour and home… Green’s been with Samantha for two years now, she keeps his leash tight.”
“I thought they broke up.”
He nodded. “That’s what the papers think. It works for his rep if the relationship looks rocky, you know? Together, apart, he screws up, she kicks him out… all that is orchestrated. They just put a down payment on a three-bed house, Sam wants kids.”
That was shocking, one of the infamous Threens was settling down. It was a surprise. But it was more of a surprise that Trick was letting her in on the secret. “Why are you trusting me now? Why did you come to me today? You could’ve pulled me aside on honeymoon and—”
“On honeymoon, my head was up my ass,” he said. “I thought I had to play that guy all the time. With the cameras around so much, it’s difficult to know when we have to be ‘on’. I guess I got to my limit today when Paul came to the apartment to yell at me… I mean he was effectively telling me to sexually harass you. That’s fine when we’re in a public place, you know, in a glass room where a woman can scream for help if she really feels afraid. But they’re talking about when we’re home, when it’s just us and a cameraman.”
“They’re setting up fixed cameras in the apartment too,” she said. “There won’t always be someone with us.”
He groaned. “That’s worse.”
“You don’t have to worry; I’m not going to sleep with you.” With a half-smile, he laughed. “I mean, I know you don’t really want to sleep with me. I wasn’t suggesting that you did.”
“All of that aside,” he said, probably sensing that she was getting herself tied in knots. “If there are fixed cameras in there, we won’t know when they’re filming… some of them have lights to show when they’re on, but it’s not always possible to see depending on the angle. They could be watching us at any time.”
So life in the apartment was going to be him constantly trying to touch her up. “I don’t know how long we can do this for,” she murmured.
“Is there something you don’t eat or drink?”
“Something I… why?”
“If there’s a specific food or drink that you don’t like, we can use it as our code word. If it’s mentioned we know the other wants to be alone and we can… I don’t know, go out or go into the bathroom or something.”
“The cameras will be in the bathroom,” she said. “Cliff said there will be one in the shower anyway.”
“ ‘Cause they think we’re going to be doing it in the shower?” he grumbled and she shrugged. “Hell…”
It was sweet that he seemed really frustrated by this, though it was for his own benefit, not hers. “Blueberries,” she said, catching his eye. “I don’t like blueberries.”
“Ok,” he said with a flare of hope. “If we need to get blueberries, then we need to be alone, right? But if you just say the word on its own then I know you’re through, ok? That we’re done.”
“And when one of us walks, we both do?” she asked and he nodded.
It was amazing how much better she felt after just one conversation.
“I’m so glad I called Josie,” he said and some of her excitement wavered. “My sister. I called her after I spoke to Paul. She said the only thing to do was drop the act and be honest. I was worried you’d freak. But you’re really… cool.”
She laughed and looped her arms around his neck. “That is the first time in my life I have ever been called cool. Thank you, Mr. Strickland.”
“No problem, Mrs. Strickland,” he said grinning and lowering his face to let their foreheads touch. “We just have to be friends, ok?” She nodded against him, making their noses touch. “We be honest with each other and if one does something that the other doesn’t like then we work it out. Compromise.” Closing her eyes, Lyla felt herself relax. It was a start. A foundation of trust was imperative if this was going to work. “By the way.” He leaned back enough that they could make eye contact, but his arms were tight around her ribs now, still under her sweater. “Did I see a cat in the apartment?”
“Risk,” she said, wearing a grin. “He’s my baby.”
“His name is Risk? I love it.”
“Do you like cats?”
“I guess I do now,” he said. “Do I need to do anything with him?”
She shook her head. “I take care of him. It’s been just him and me for five years now, he’ll take some time, but he’ll warm up to you.”
“Five years,” he said. “No boyfriend?”
“Nope,” she said. “I actually like being on my own.”
He laughed. “So, you went from being alone with Risk to twenty-four hour scrutiny? Good plan, babe.” Something caught his eye behind her and his smile immediately dissolved. “Damn,” he murmured and stood up. Keeping her in his arms, he rushed her back against the door, the only fully solid space on that glazed wall. “Let’s not tell anyone about this conversation, ok, babe?”
Well yeah, obviously, but why had he changed so quickly? “What?” she asked, scared by the concern on his face.
“God, I hope you don’t come out of this hating me,” he murmured, but wasn’t really talking to her as he reached up to drive his fingers into her hair.
“Ow, Trick…”
His digits caught on the pins in her hair, and as they got rougher, some fell out leaving her tumbled hair a mess. But she had just raised her hand to her temple when he began to grab handfuls of his own tee-shirt, webbing it with creases. Then he snatched her hand and squeezed her fingers out flat.
“Good, you have nails,” he said and before she could even register what he was doing, he pulled her hand up. While squeezing her fingertips, he forced her nails in to the side of his neck, dragging them around and down to his throat, leaving long angry scratches on him.
“Trick,” she hissed as someone started to bang on the door.
“I’ll see you at home tonight,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans with a yank. Bouncing up and down, he forced them to sag on his hips.
Grabbing the back of her neck, he pulled her forward and kissed her forehead, then he flashed her a smile before straightening his face and urging her aside to open the door. As soon as he did, he took one step then stopped, like he was surprised.
“Trick!”
Paul’s voice echoed and Trip stepped aside to let her see the camera that was pointed in both of their faces. “Uh… just having some, uh… husband and wife time,” Trick said, putting an arm around her and glancing down. “Oh, babe, you have…” He touched a rough fingertip to the corner of her mouth like he was rubbing something away. “We’re good.” Trick took a step forward then stopped and grabbed his belt. “Forgot about that.” Making a big show of pulling up his jeans, he buttoned them and winked right at her in front of the lens that had to be reflecting her shock. “Good talk, babe.”
Kissing her forehead again, he began to back away, nodding and waving at her stunned colleagues. Trick whistled. “Yo, camera! Star’s over here!” He clicked his fingers and raised his arms to point down at himself as he walked backward through the department.
The cameraman turned to scurry after him and Trick winked again. Yeah, he was back to being a prick, at least Paul looked happier, even if her colleagues were all gawping at her. They had to know it was bullshit, she and Trick had been standing there in view for a long time. Except…
Moving in to the room, she looked through the glass to see that where they’d been standing wasn’t fully in view. The room was only part glazed. There would be no way to see what was going on between the lower half of their bodies as she stood with her back to them with him wide-legged on the desk, had he done that on purpose? No, surely not.
But, yeah, she was a wife now, and apparently a slut too.