Myles shot her an incredulous look. “What time was the wedding?”
“Four. You guys have no idea how easy you have it. On the bride’s side there’s all this pre-wedding stuff. Manis and pedis. Hair appointments. Last minute dress alterations because the bride put on unexpected weight. All the attendant freak out associated with that. Then pictures—but none of the joint pictures because it won’t do for the bride and groom to see each other ahead of time. Then the waiting and the nerves and the bride puking. Calming her down. Getting some ginger ale and crackers in her. Checking on guests, locating the missing guest book. Locating the attendant who’s supposed to make sure all the guests actually sign the guest book. It’s been a...production. So much freaking drama. All the groom’s side has to do is show up, put on a tux, and go.”
“Jesus. I’ll throw in a foot massage with the popcorn.”
“You are a god among men, Myles Stewart.” Piper dropped her head back against the seat.
“It’s been mentioned once or twice. I’m guessing you are not one of those women into the big, fancy, invite-everyone-you-know kind of wedding?”
“I don’t know why people don’t just save the hassle and the expense and elope. Then have a big party for family and friends to celebrate when you get back. Seems simpler.”
“Probably because various family members would be disappointed at the lack of pageantry.”
She snorted. “Screw them. Marriage should be about the two people getting married and what they want. It’s not about anyone else.”
“Hear hear.”
“Don’t tell my mother. I’ve disappointed her enough by staying single until I’m nearly thirty.”
“Oh, she and my grandmother can form a support group.”
“I’m pretty sure that might be one of the most terrifying thoughts I’ve had in years.”
“You’re right,” he said. “They’d be terrors together. New plan: Keep them as far apart as possible.”
“Deal.”
“I’ve missed the hell out of you, Piper.”
“Back atcha.” She smiled at him. “I nearly broke down and called you at least two dozen times.”
He reached across the center console to tangle his fingers with hers. His expressive face was sober as he looked over. “Did anything change for you during that cooling off period?”
“Yes.” He started to pull away, but she tightened her grip. “I got confirmation that this...thing between us has nothing to do with the roles we played on stage. Which is exactly what I wanted to know.”
“Good. Because I’m just as crazy about you now as I was in December.” His admission made her giddy. The kind of champagne bubble excitement she hadn’t felt since she got her first kiss from Robert Hudson in Meet Me In Saint Louis.
She flexed her hand so she could trace a thumb around his palm. “I’m glad you waited around for me. A lot of guys wouldn’t have.”
“A lot of guys are dumbasses. Their loss.”
They rode in comfortable silence back to his house. He pulled into the garage and put the door down. By the time she wedged her aching feet back into the heels, he’d skirted around the front of the car and opened her door. It felt just a little glamorous to take his hand and be helped out. Just a little reckless to be tugged up against his body, frissons of heat and awareness racing along her nerves.
He stepped back and let them into the house. “Now, let’s get you out of that travesty of a dress.”
Piper’s pulse leapt with anticipation, but Myles didn’t pull her into his arms. Instead, he released her hand and strode down the hall. Unsure what else to do, she followed. The bedroom was too minimalist to be his—no knickknacks scattered over the dresser or nightstand. She knew him well enough to know that he always had something readily available to occupy his hands.
He opened a bureau drawer. “What is it with women? It’s like y’all save up every infraction against each other and unleash the revenge in the form of the most hideous possible bridesmaids dresses. What’d you do to your cousin?”
“Maybe it was that I enforced her bedtime one too many times when I babysat her as a kid.”
“Well, if you want to have a ritual burning, it’s not too warm for a fire.” He handed over a set of pajamas.
Piper arched a brow. “I’m afraid the chemical fumes would kill us. This,” she shook the dress, “just isn’t natural. Should I be concerned that you just happen to have a set of women’s pajamas?”
“My sister leaves some emergency stuff here for when she comes to visit.”
“Well, there’s something new. I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“And a brother, Grady. Both younger. Skye’s the baby.”
“Well, then I shall be grateful Skye’s close to my size.”
“Go on and get changed. I’ll get started on the rest.”
As he left the room, Piper wondered with pounding pulse just what the rest would be.
Chapter 3
Myles had the popcorn on the stove and some of the kitchen chairs hauled into the middle of the living room floor by the time Piper came back out. He tried not to notice how the little tank top hugged her curves, but failed miserably. It wasn’t that there was more skin exposed than there had been in the dress. It was the intimacy of seeing her in pjs. Didn’t matter that he’d seen Skye in the same ones. He sure as hell hadn’t been fantasizing about her for the last six months.
Piper crossed her arms, plumping up the breasts he was trying not to ogle.
“You want a sweatshirt or something? I didn’t think about you getting cold.” Please say yes. Myles had every intention of being a gentleman, but his will-power was only so strong.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh.” He lifted the edge of the comforter and finished draping it over the chairs. “I made you a blanket fort.”
“A blanket fort?” The edge of confusion in her smile told him she didn’t get it.
“You did tell me once that was your favorite scene in The Holiday. I thought it’d be fun to watch it with you from a blanket fort.”
“That’s—”
Stupid? Silly? Crazy?
“—awesome.” She flashed him the smile that’d been haunting his dreams. “What can I do to help?”
“Go nab the rest of the pillows and comforter from the guest room.”
He grabbed her one of his sweatshirts, while she was at it, then went to check on the popcorn, which he barely saved from burning. By the time he’d dumped it all in a bowl and added salt, she’d also robbed the pillows from his room and some from the sofa and made a cozy little nest beneath the impromptu canopy in front of the TV. She’d also put on the sweatshirt—thank God.
He queued up the movie and crawled in to join her, loving that she immediately snuggled in. And then he could feel all those curves he was trying not to think about, despite the sweatshirt. But at least he had his arm around her. She balanced the popcorn on her lap, tossing some into her mouth as the title credits started.
“This was a fabulous idea,” she said.
“I had at least a couple dozen different plans for our first date during the hiatus. Karaoke among them.”
“Oh yeah?”
“But ultimately I decided I wanted you all to myself.” Myles turned his head, taking advantage of the fact that her hair was still pinned up to press another tiny kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear. Her shiver made him smile.
Piper turned her head, leveling those big brown eyes on his. “And what exactly are your plans for me, Mr. Stewart?”
“Something along the lines of making up for lost time,” he murmured.
She was the one who tipped forward, closing the distance between them. Myles hummed low in his throat as she fitted her mouth to his, no hesitation, just a slow, easy exploration. There’d been no time for this with any of their stage kisses. He knew the heat that lingered just below the surface, just waiting to hit flashpoint. He’d felt it the night he’d kisse
d her the first time, outside Speakeasy. Had dreamed of it in the months since. But he didn’t press. He’d follow whatever pace, whatever tone she set.
She shifted, twisting to better face him. Myles blindly set the popcorn aside, dimly grateful they hadn’t gotten around to opening the Cokes as she wrapped her arms around him and took the kiss deeper. He slid his hand beneath the sweatshirt, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin tank beneath.
Just a little touch.
Snaking his hand beneath the tank, he spread his palm against the small of her back. Piper let out a sexy little moan and opened to him, her tongue darting out to dance with his.
For a moment, Myles thought his butt cheek had gone to sleep from sitting on the floor. Then he realized his phone was vibrating in his pocket. He growled in annoyance, wishing it to silence.
Piper broke the kiss. “Do you need to get that?”
“Right now I don’t care if the world is ending outside those doors. I’ve got good sturdy locks. They’ll keep the zombies out.”
“But what if it’s something to do with the Sunday edition?”
He tucked a lock of hair that’d fallen free back behind her ear. “I both love and hate that you thought of that.” Heaving a sigh, he wiggled until he could get his phone out of his back pocket. It’d stopped ringing, but the readout said the call was from Simone. “Crap. I should probably call her back.”
Piper sat back, straightening her sweatshirt and grabbing the bowl of popcorn.
“Just don’t—I’ll make this quick.”
Her feline smile made his blood heat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Myles crawled out of the blanket fort because there was no way he’d be able to concentrate with the temptation of Piper right there. “You want anything while I’m up?”
“Napkins. The popcorn is a little greasy, as all good popcorn should be.”
“You got it.” He hit the call button as he headed to the kitchen.
Simone answered on the first ring. “Bad time?”
“Kind of. Is this important?”
“Uh oh. That’s your you-better-not-cock-block-me voice.”
“I do not have a tone for that.”
She laughed. “Don’t be lyin’. I knew you straight out of college.”
“I cannot be held accountable for my actions in the French Quarter at twenty-four. What do you need?”
“There was a development in the front page story for tomorrow. I wanted to go over the proposed changes. I’ll be quick.”
“Go then.”
He passed Piper some paper towels and switched on his editor mode. Simone was right. The whole conversation took less than ten minutes. He made his decisions and gave her last minute instructions for putting the paper to bed. Cameron Diaz’s character had just arrived at Rose Hill Cottage by the time he hung up. But for just a moment, he stood there, trying to switch the inner newspaperman back off. Because talking to Simone had brought the whole goddamned mess with his investor back to the forefront of his brain.
“Myles?” Piper had crawled out of the blanket fort. “Everything okay?”
He tossed the phone onto the end table and forced a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” Crossing to her, he laced his hands behind her back. “Now where were we?”
She stopped his mouth with two fingers. “You forget, I’ve seen you act. Seriously, what’s wrong?”
Myles hesitated.
“I mean, you’re free to tell me it’s none of my business, but when people I care about are upset, I like to try to help.”
He loved that instant support, loved, too, the idea that he was someone she cared about. But did he really want to drag her into all of this? “It’s not that. It’s just—Hell. I’m not gonna be able to turn it off. Let’s go back to the fort for this story.”
“All things are better in a blanket fort,” she agreed.
He paused the movie and they set up on opposite sides this time, each leaning against a chair. Myles picked up one of her feet and began the foot rub he’d promised. “So you know I’m editor of the paper. What you may not know—what very few people know—is that I also own it.”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously? Aren’t newspapers usually owned by big conglomerates or whatever?” Her question trailed off on a moan as he dragged a knuckle down the arch of her foot. The sound almost derailed his brain entirely.
What was he saying? Oh, right.
“Often. Small town ones less so. When I left Philadelphia, I wanted to take a struggling small town paper and turn it around. I wanted my stamp on it. My vision. The only way to ensure I was able to do that was to buy it outright.”
“That must have been crazy expensive.”
“It was. I couldn’t get a traditional loan to do it, and I didn’t have enough capital of my own. So I had to take on an investor.”
She was an attentive audience, listening without interruption, as he spilled out the whole sorry tale.
“So I’m basically out of options, unless I take Tucker’s suggestion and hit up Vegas.”
Amusement lit her eyes at that idea. “Well, you could go find yourself a showgirl on the strip. Or you could take the more obvious answer.”
“Which is?”
“Marry me.”
~*~
Myles’ face went slack with shock. “Are you drunk?”
Piper didn’t take offense at the question. “Sober as a judge. Baptist wedding, remember? Just hear me out. If you show up with some total stranger in tow that you picked up in Vegas or wherever, your grandmother will, I presume, flip her lid.”
He grimaced. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“As executor of the trust, might she have the option to still not give it to you if she thinks you got married strictly for the money?”
“I’d have to check with Tucker to verify, but maybe,” he said slowly.
“Whereas if you come with me, it’s more believable. We have backstory because of the show. As far as they know, we fell for each other on stage, started dating. Six months is quick but not insane crazy short for getting engaged.”
Myles stared at her. “But I have to be actually married. Legally. License and all.”
“So we do a quick courthouse ceremony somewhere out of town. We have all the legal stuff in place for you to take to your family. Nobody here has to know, and we can just continue on dating as if nothing has changed.” She paused. “Assuming you still want to date.”
“So you’re suggesting we get married and then date?”
“Basically. The terms of the trust are satisfied, you get the money to pay off your investor, and everybody gets to keep their job.”
She could see his nimble brain sorting through scenarios, trying to find all the angles. Her own mind hummed, bouncing like a prize fighter just waiting to knock down the next question or objection. They could really do this and he’d be able to save his business.
“Where would you live?”
“As far as anyone here would be concerned, we’d just be dating, so I’ll keep my place.”
“What about holidays? Thanksgiving. Christmas. Your family will expect you there. And mine will think it’s weird if you don’t show up with me.”
“Your family’s in Madison, right? It’s less than two hours away. I’m sure we could juggle it. Work is always a convenient excuse to need to change the time of something. We could make this work, Myles.”
“Okay, say I consider this—and that’s a big if, because this may be the most madcap scheme I’ve ever heard—how long would we keep this up?”
“Long enough for you to gain access to the trust and…” Piper hesitated.
“And what?”
Nothing risked, nothing gained. This wasn’t any crazier than the rest of what she was suggesting. “And long enough for us to figure out whether we want it to be a permanent thing or not.”
“Permanent?”
For all that she’d learned to read his expressions when they’d worked toge
ther on stage, she couldn’t read him now. Had that been the point to scare him away from her? Pretending a casualness she didn’t feel, she kept her voice light. “That’s kind of the point of dating, isn’t it? Deciding whether you want a permanent relationship or not. We’d still be doing that, albeit unconventionally.”
“Fair point. And if it doesn’t work out?”
She shrugged. “Then we get a quiet divorce, no harm, no foul. Tucker told you there was no contingency in the trust to take the money away if you did. And I’ll sign a prenup relinquishing whatever rights I might hold over it as your wife.”
He scrubbed both hands over his face and back through his hair, making it stand up in the back. “You realize this is completely insane, right? You’re suggesting actual, legal marriage with the same casual attitude you might take to leasing a car.”
“I trust you. I wouldn’t be here with you now, wouldn’t have made this offer, if I didn’t. I’m suggesting that you actually like me. You—I presume—trust me. You know I can act, so I can sell whatever needs selling to your family to legitimize things. If nothing else, we’re friends, with an obvious potential to be more. I have no other encumbrances to keep me from helping you out with this, and it’ll either end as quietly as it begins or...” Piper didn’t want to give too much thought to exactly how much she wanted to believe in that “or”.
“Or we decide to stay married. What then? Do we just come out and tell your family and our friends about this lunacy?”
Stay married. Wouldn’t that be something? To jump into this with the intent of helping a friend and find forever. It wasn’t why she’d offered, wasn’t what she expected. But if that was how it played out? She’d consider herself lucky that the gamble payed higher dividends than she’d counted on.
“Either that or we elope somewhere far away where nobody’s liable to show up. We could have a second ceremony as a vow renewal or skip it and take a honeymoon. Nobody’s likely to question it.”
“Speaking of honeymoon…” He trailed off, obviously looking for a polite way to phrase what he wanted to say.