Gage

I don’t drive as fast as I want to, not because I’m not dying to see what the red BMW can do, but because I’m acutely aware that these could be my last minutes spent with Ellie.

“What’s your last name?” I ask once we’re on the main road and out of sight of both the van and the cameras.

She pulls a hair elastic from her wrist and winds her long dark hair into a messy knot atop her head to protect it from the wind. “Why?”

“Are you always ornery, or is it just with me?”

“I’m not ornery,” she says indignantly. “I’m just wondering why you need my last name. We’re supposed to remain anonymous.”

“We both know I can find out within two minutes of being back at the villa.”

She looks out at the ocean, then back at me. “Wright. With a W. But don’t go stalking me when the show is over.”

“I’ll try to contain myself.”

She studies me. “Did you write my name on that piece of paper?”

“Yes.” No point in denying it.

“Why?”

“Because for someone who hates my guts, you seemed mighty keen to talk to me. I got curious.”

“First of all, ‘mighty keen’? Did you get cast in some historical period piece I don’t know about? And second of all, I never said I hated your guts.”

“No. Just that you couldn’t wait to go home at the first possible moment.”

“Don’t sulk,” she says, shifting in her seat to face me more fully. “We both know you’d be out of here ASAP if you could.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because I’ve seen almost all of your movies. I know when you’re playing a character. And the Gage Barrett that shows up every time the cameras roll? That’s acting.”

“Says the girl who’s known me for all of two days.”

“Fine,” she says, throwing her hands up. “I’m wrong. You really are here looking for your one true love. Tell me, should I get you a crystal vase or china off your registry?”

I grin at her prickly tone. “Depends on what china my bride-to-be selects.”

“You mean your wife,” Ellie says. “Don’t forget, this ends in a wedding, not a proposal.”

Thanks for the reminder.

Glancing up at the rearview mirror to verify that nobody from the show’s on our tail, I act on impulse and pull into the left-turn lane of the highway.

Ellie says nothing as I pull into a parking spot at one of the many public beaches. “If you’re planning to bury my body, there are witnesses.”

I punch the button of her seatbelt. “Take a walk with me, Wright.”

“Why?” she asks. But she climbs out of the car when I do, and I sense that she appreciates the reprieve from all things Jilted as much as I do.

We walk toward the water, and I kick off my flip-flops in the shade of a tree before looking pointedly at her feet.

“I’ll keep them on.”

“I thought you said you were from San Diego. At what point did you miss the part where high heels and soft sand aren’t compatible?”

“They’re platforms, not stilettos. And they weren’t cheap. What if—”

Impatient, I bend down and haul her right foot toward me, throwing her off balance, so she has no choice but to put her hands on my shoulders.

I grin up at her as my fingers find the fragile buckle near her ankle, feeling her glare through the sunglasses.

“I didn’t shave my legs,” she says with a touch of defiance. “Serves you right for getting handsy.”

I shake my head as I toss one shoe aside and reach for her other foot. “Not like the other girls.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Once she’s barefoot, I stand up and turn away and walk toward the water without bothering to see if she’ll follow.

But I smile when she does.

“If my shoes get stolen, you have to replace them.”

“Deal,” I say, tilting my head up toward the sun, which has started to peek through the afternoon clouds.

“Why are we here?” she asks as we start to walk side by side.

“Thought you wanted to talk to me.”

“I do, but we could have done it in the car.”

“Damn it, Ellie.” I stop and turn toward her. “Am I that bad? I get why you want to go home so you don’t have to be a part of the show, but am I such tedious company that you can’t stand five minutes with me so I can breathe without a camera on me?”

She tilts her head slightly. “Shouldn’t you be used to cameras on you by now? This is your life.”

I feel a stab of disappointment. “Sure. Right. We actors knew what we were getting into, right? So we don’t get to complain?”

“No, wait—”

I don’t wait. I turn and walk away, stopping only when her fingers grab my arm and tug me to a stop.

I turn back to her, and she shoves her sunglasses to the top of her head so I can see her hazel eyes. Then she huffs out an impatient sigh and, going up on her toes, shoves mine to the top of my head as well.

“I’m sorry,” she says simply. “It was wrong of me to assume that you want to be under the spotlight all the time.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, not really,” she acknowledges. “It must get old.”

“It does, but we don’t need to have a therapy session about it,” I grumble. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Ellie blows out a long breath. “Right, okay. So, while you were out with the breakfast girls today, the rest of us ate our breakfast out by the pool.”

“Fascinating,” I drawl.

She looks toward the water as though debating something, then back at me. “Maria’s going to sneak into your bedroom tonight,” she blurts out.

It takes me a second to absorb this. “Okay.”

Ellie’s mouth drops open. “That’s it? That’s what you have to say?”

I shrug. “They warned me that at least one of the women would try it. I admit I thought one of the Brittanys would be the first, but you don’t need to be so scandalized on my behalf. Though I’m glad you’re concerned for my virtue.”

Her nose wrinkles just the slightest bit. Not at the women, but at me—at my response to this news. “So, what’s your plan? To have sex with anyone who crawls between your sheets?”

“Depends who’s doing the crawling,” I say with a grin.

She raises her voice. “I just told you! Maria!”

I have no intention of sleeping with Maria—or any of the contestants, at least at this point. I’ve no interest in trapping myself. But I confess I’m enjoying how riled up Ellie’s getting about the very idea of it.

I take a step closer to her. “Are you jealous, Ms. Wright?”

“I don’t even know why I tried to warn you,” she mutters. “You deserve whatever comes your way.”

“I can handle it,” I say quietly. “You think this is the first time someone’s tried to worm her way into my bed uninvited?”

“No, but she might be the first pregnant woman.”

I still. “What?”

“Maria’s pregnant,” she says plainly. “The baby’s her ex’s, but he’s not in the picture. She’s planning to pass the kid off as yours.”

I give an incredulous laugh. “That’s absurd. Has she never heard of paternity tests?”

“I don’t think she’s really thought past the scandal of it all. You could sort it out eventually, but she’s counting on getting you down the aisle first.”

I drag a hand over my face. “And here I thought I’d successfully dodged being part of the soap opera scene. She told you this?”

“Yeah.” Ellie crossed her arms. “She mentioned it this morning when she was warning me away from you. Told me I didn’t stand a chance against what she had planned. Didn’t take much coaxing to get her to brag about the whole tacky plan.”

I let out a short laugh. “Bet she’s freaking out that you and I are alone right now.”

“Yeah, you should have seen the death glare she gave me as we were leaving. It’s going to be very thorny if we both stick around.”

“Not if one of you goes home, though.”

“No,” she confirms, lifting a hand to slide her glasses back onto her face.

I reach out and push the glasses back up, wanting to see her eyes. “Ellie—”

“I know,” she says with a little sigh. “Maria needs to go.”

“Tonight,” I say. “Before she has a chance to carry out her seduction plan.”

Ellie shrugs. “I get it.”

“Do you?” I step closer. “Or is this only going to reaffirm every negative thought you have about Hollywood?”

“Maybe the fact that Maria’s being sent home rather than allowed to play tacky games makes me have a little more respect for…Hollywood.”

I smile, and it feels like my first real one all day. Before I can think better of it, I slip a hand behind her neck, noting the way her breath skips before she seems to force her expression into nonchalance.

“Really?” she says dryly. “I do you one tiny favor and you think I want to make out with you? And you are sending me home tomorrow, right?”

I lift my eyebrows. “Who said anything about making out?” And I deliberately dodge the question about sending her home after Maria’s gone.

“Again, I’ve seen the Killboy movies, where you seduce anything with boobs. I know your pre-kiss moves, Barrett.”

I smile wider, enjoying her. Enjoying us. “Well, here’s the thing. The producers are on my ass about the fact that I haven’t kissed any of the contestants yet.”

“Huh. Well, you’d better get on that,” she says huskily.

I step closer, my head dipping toward her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But Hollywood…?” Ellie says on a whisper as her eyes flick up to mine, and now it’s my breath that catches, because for all her T-shirts and straight talk, Ellie Wright can be alluring as hell when she wants to be.

“Hmm?” I ask, already fantasizing about what she’ll taste like.

She lifts herself on tiptoe until her mouth is inches from mine, her hand rising to my cheek…which she gives a sisterly pat before slipping away. “You really should save it for the camera,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads back toward the car. “And one of the other girls.”

I don’t want any of the other girls.

The thought hits me hard, but there it is…an inconvenient truth if there ever was one.

I rock back on my heels as I watch Ellie walk away. I’ll let her go. For now. Because while kissing Ellie Wright on the beach sounds like a little slice of heaven, I’ve got something even better planned.