I put my gym bag down on the kitchen counter and reach for my phone. “Hello?”

“It’s Kevin. I have great news.”

My pulse quickens. “Do I have a gig?”

“It’s not that, but you may soon. It’s working.”

“What’s working?”

“You and Charlotte! You two are all over the news and gossip columns!”

“Oh.”

“That stunt you pulled sneaking onto another set? Brilliant. The public loved it. Good thinking.”

“Oh…yeah, great.” I don’t tell him that it was totally unplanned. That Charlotte and I had gotten swept up in the moment and enjoyed being a couple without the pressure of the cameras.

“So I think it’s time.”

“For what?” I ask, grabbing a protein shake from the fridge.

“To meet the parents.”

Meet the parents?

I take a deep breath. Wait, this is good, actually. I’ve been thinking about introducing Charlotte to my family. “Okay. When should I tell my mom and sister?”

“No. Not yours.”

My protein shake pauses in midair. “And why not?”

“Too far away. Santa Barbara will get better press.”

“Whoa. What does that mean?”

Kevin sighs. “It isn’t going to do any good if the public doesn’t know you’re meeting your girl’s parents.”

It would do me good. Isn’t that what matters?

“You’re not filming this weekend, right?” he asks.

“Right…”

“Great. I’ll tip off the press so they’re waiting for you two.”

My appetite leaves me. “I don’t know, Kevin.”

“What?”

“This seems…wrong.”

“How so?”

“It makes me uneasy that we’re making something so personal into a publicity stunt.”

“Your whole relationship is a publicity stunt.”

Ouch. That stings. “How about Charlotte’s family?” I argue. “Is it fair to spring this on them?”

“Who cares?”

“I do!”

“Oh, calm down. This will be great for you! There’s nothing more endearing than meeting the parents. It shows you’re serious about this girl.”

Serious about this girl. The thought made me uneasy.

“Okay,” I reluctantly agree.

“You tell Charlotte, and I’ll take care of everything else. Be in Santa Barbara by noon on Saturday, okay?”

He clicks off before I can answer.

Just tell Charlotte? Easier said than done. It’d been three days since that steamy kiss on her bed. When she got home that night, I tried talking to her, but she wouldn’t hear me out. She stuck to her opinion that it was a mistake, a one-time thing, and insisted we should move past it. I didn’t get the chance to tell her that I couldn’t move past it—especially not with the v-bomb dropped on me—before she closed her bedroom door in my face. I’d barely seen her since.

Sometimes I’d hear sounds in the kitchen, but by the time I ran out of my room, it was empty. Her ninja skills at avoiding me, coupled with my demanding filming schedule, meant I’d barely laid eyes on her.

Well, that’s about to change. We’re going to her parents’, which means we’re going to spend forty-eight uninterrupted hours together. I’ll find the right moment to talk to her because I have to figure out what we are, what our relationship is becoming. We’d jumped right past “just friends” and gone straight to “it’s complicated,” and the ambiguity was beginning to eat me up inside.

I think about her all the time, kissing those lips, her long legs wrapped around my waist, her voice moaning my name. She’d even hijacked my dreams. My new morning routine is to head straight from bed to the shower where I could find some release. It only half worked. Even when I jerked off, I thought of Charlotte.

I grit my teeth as I head down the hall to her room and knock on her door. Silence. I try the door handle and find it’s unlocked.

“Charlotte?” I say, poking my head in. Empty.

I’m about to back out when I notice the state her room is in. Clothes and shoes are strewn everywhere, her hamper is overflowing, and dirty plates and glasses are piled up on her dresser. It looks like she’s been holed up here for the past few days…avoiding me.

I clench my fists. This has got to stop. We’re adults. I’m done tiptoeing around her.

I start with the office—empty. Then the other guest rooms—empty, too. I try the theater and gym next before heading outside. She could be gone, though her car was here when I got back from my session with Lupo…

Nope. Wanda, or whatever, is still here. So that left a run or the pool. I pray she’s on a run, because if she’s at the pool, that means—

Christ.

My eyes find her as I round the back of the house. Charlotte is lounging by the pool, draped over a chaise lounge, basking in the afternoon sun. She’s wearing a skimpy white bikini that does nothing to hide her soft curves, full breasts, and long legs.

I stop in the middle of the path and stare. Those milky-white thighs, that sun-kissed skin, that golden-red hair…

Is this some sick joke? Avoid me for three days only to make your debut in one foot of thin fabric?

I must have made some sound because Charlotte pushes up her sunglasses and swivels her head around. Her cornflower-blue eyes find me and narrow.

“Tate?” She sits up and grabs a towel off the chair next to her. I groan with regret as she wraps it tightly around her graceful curves, hiding them from my greedy eyes. “I thought you were at the gym.”

“Just got back,” I mutter, feet locked in place. Maybe it’s best that way. If I got closer to that gorgeous woman, I might not be responsible for my actions.

“Well, what do you want?”

I bristle at her tone. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Tate!”

“Save your indignation. I’m done giving you space. I want to talk about what happened earlier.”

“Well, I don’t,” she snaps, jumping up and slipping into her sandals.

“So we’re going to pretend like it didn’t happen?”

Charlotte starts down the path toward me. “Like what happened?” she asks innocently.

That does it.

I grab her arm as she tries to brush past me. “Like we didn’t almost sleep together!”

She grimaces. “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” I growl, pulling her toward me. “You can’t deny you didn’t feel something, too.”

She twists her arm in my grasp. “We’re just friends—a business arrangement!”

“You don’t believe that.”

“I have to. Now let go!” She wrenches her arm away from me and stumbles back. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

“I’m sorry.”

She jabs a finger at me. “Ever!”

“Well I needed you to listen!”

“No—” she stops and lowers her voice “—you listen to me, Tate. We’re fake. What we’re feeling is fake. It’s all fake.”

“So you admit you feel something?”

Charlotte’s teeth tug on her bottom lip. “Yes…”

I step toward her. “Then why fight it?”

“Because it’s lust or boredom or suppressed sexual tension. I know you’ve been stressed lately, so—”

“Stop. It’s not that.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’s not real. If we did…” Her cheeks flush as her voice fades. “It would complicate things.”

“So?”

“So we both have a lot to lose if this arrangement goes south—you especially.”

I scowl. “Whatever.”

“No, not whatever. One of us needs to stay clear-headed and on track, and I guess that’s me!”

She pushes past me. This time I let her go. On track? What if I don’t like the track we’re on?

She’s about to turn the corner when I remember why I came down here in the first place. “Charlotte!” I call out. She pauses but doesn’t turn. “Kevin called. He thinks it’s time to meet the parents.”

“Kentucky?” Charlotte asks, turning around.

I shake my head. “Santa Barbara. This Saturday.”

Charlotte thinks about that for a moment. “Is this a good idea? I mean, getting our families involved?”

“I made the same argument, but Kevin’s adamant. He says our…”

What term did she use?

“…business arrangement is working.” I get some satisfaction in seeing Charlotte flinch. “He thinks this is the right time.”

Charlotte nods. “Okay, but as long as we don’t drag our families into this scheme. They didn’t agree to any of this, and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Other than me?

Before I can decide if I should tell her what Kevin has planned, Charlotte gives me a sad smile. “I’m sorry for fighting earlier and for being so distant lately. I’m just not used to all this,” she says vaguely, setting fire to my imagination.

All this? As in desire, lust, passion?

“I don’t want to keep fighting, Tate. Especially if I’m about to introduce you to my family.” She holds out her hand. “Friends?”

Friends? She’s in for a rude awakening…

She gives a relieved sigh when I take it. “Okay, I’ll go get changed and start dinner. Tacos?”

Okay—this is when you tell her that the press will be all over us and her family this weekend. That my agent orchestrated this to get me the maximum response from my fans. I should tell her and deal with the crushing silent treatment she’s bound to impose for such a break of privacy. But as I look at Charlotte, standing there wearing only a towel and bikini, offering me her company and tacos, I cave.

“Sure.”

Call me weak, but I am only a man.

She smiles and then turns back up the path. I glide my gaze up and down her beautiful backside, my eyes lingering on that tight ass and those legs…

I groan as Little Gunner jumps to attention. This is going to be a very frustrating, very tempting weekend.