Charming: A Modern Day Sexy Cinderella Story (17 page)

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he smiles at me and leans toward me with anticipation. I smile and kiss him gently on the lips. He sighs deeply when I pull away, “That’s all the thank you I need.” Kissing him is amazing and just a simple brush of his lips against mine makes me crave so much more. I think I could kiss him all day.

He tugs on his hat again before taking my hand in his once more. This time, I have to ask, “Are you worried about being recognized?” I ask him keeping my voice low.

“No, not really. Why?”

I point at his hat, “You keep tugging on your hat, pushing it down and I thought maybe that was why. I’m sorry, I didn’t think. If you would have preferred going back to our resort or eating in the restaurant in a private booth or something, we can see if we can get the food to go.”

“No, no, no. I don’t want to do that. I’m happy right where we are. And for the record, I love that you didn’t think about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, spending time with someone that isn’t demanding of my time, wanting to know what project I’m going to do next and if I want to endorse this item or that. Getting called about presenting at award shows, getting invitations for event after event that I’m expected to go to, having to act perfect in public and constantly make sure I say and do the appropriate things so the press doesn’t take and twist shit all around is exhausting. It’s so fucking exhausting, and I know you’re probably thinking ‘oh, poor baby’ so I’ll just stop talking now.”

“No, I wasn’t thinking that at all. I was thinking that all those things sound like work, not pleasure, and that it must be tiring having to put on a perfect face all the time.”

“It can be. I just want to be me. And I’m certainly a long way from perfect. And being with you, I feel like I can just be. You don’t appear to be caught up in all the celebrity shit other than just basic curiosity.”

“That’s because I don’t really care about it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, when I found out whom you were, I kind of freaked out. But, that’s because I’ve enjoyed your movies and I’ve never met a celebrity before. But, for the record, I would have wanted to talk to you whether you were an actor or if you were a…a…. mime.” He lifts a brow at my occupational choice and I shrug. “Okay, well maybe not a mime, they’re kind of creepy, but you know what I mean. I don’t care if you’re famous or not.”

He chuckles softly and the sound makes me shiver. It’s the sound I heard at the pool and at the fire pit. I love that sound. “Well back to your original question, the only concern I have is not wanting anyone to interrupt our time together.” He opens his mouth to say more, but closes it instead.

“If that happens, we’ll just leave.” He nods and squeezes my hand, and I find myself staring at him. His eyes are covered with his aviators but I can tell he’s looking around the pool. He’s taking in the people around us, and I don’t blame him, there’s a lot to see. Not only the people, but the architecture of the hotel itself is eye catching. The resort is a Greco-Roman design and actually a pale pink color, thus the name I suppose. Gleaming domes, several marble busts, and rows of palm trees provide visual stimulation. Not to mention all the room patios with people hanging out. Some just relaxing, others sunbathing. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why aren’t you all private and holed up somewhere in some ridiculous beach house that’s way too huge for only you and staying away from everyone?”

He laughs, “Well, if I did that, I never would have met you.”

“That’s true.”

“Not my style. Never has been. My friends and family give me a hard time sometimes because they think I should live it up, but even though I could do that if I wanted to, I’m not interested. If it can be helped anyway.”

“Helped?”

“Well, sometimes I call in a favor or two. Like dinner last night, that meal wasn’t completely on the menu. If I want tickets to a sporting event, I confess I’ve cashed in on that. And my assistant calls the places I travel ahead of time to make my reservations for me. He tells the managers that I’ll be visiting, making sure my accommodations are arranged and to give the managing staff a heads up. That way if an incident presented itself they would be able to hustle me out or handle it appropriately.”

“Has that ever happened to you? A situation that needed handling?”

“A couple times,” he shrugs. “Sometimes I get recognized and people get a little excited.” He says this so casually that he gives the impression it isn’t a big deal at all, but I can tell by the tightening of his jaw that he feels otherwise.

“Wow, I can’t even imagine what that must be like.”

“It can be scary if it gets really out of hand, but mostly it’s just strange. I would rather do what everyone else is doing, be where everyone else is. It can get lonely otherwise. I fly under the radar whenever possible – I don’t want to be treated differently, but at the same time, the status has come in handy a few times.”

With that, our food is delivered and Asher pushes his chair over until it’s touching mine. We eagerly remove the silver metal lids from the plates and dive in. We make sounds of contentment, laughing at one another in the process.

After chomping on a chip with guacamole so good I could eat a vat of it, I ask Asher another question. “How did you get into acting?”

His face immediately flushes and he grimaces. “You’re full of questions.”

“Uh oh, is this a bad one? You don’t look too happy that I asked it, but I’m sure it’s something you get asked a lot.”

“It’s not a bad question, it’s just that the answer is embarrassing.”

“I really can’t imagine you have anything to be embarrassed about. You are Jack freaking Danger, action actor extraordinaire.” I pop another bite into my mouth and chew happily.

“Oh, is that what I am?”

“Isn’t it?” I ask taking a sip of my margarita.

“No,” he shakes his head. “No it isn’t. I’m just me. I like to read when I’m not working. Love football season, and have my own fantasy football league I run with my friends. I’m a fan of the band One Republic, am a big fan of Robert Redford, and would like to train for a marathon some day. My family and friends mean a lot to me. They keep me grounded, which trust me princess is a good thing because Hollywood is fucking weird. And yeah, I’ve got a good looking face and I fill out a suit well, and hell, I love my job, but it’s just something I do. Not who I am.”

“I know that, Asher. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise with my comment before.”

“I know and you didn’t.”

“Well, so far, I’m liking who you are. A lot,” I tell him emphasizing my words. He leans over and presses his lips to mine. This time, I part my lips for him and his tongue meets mine. He tastes like the salt from his margarita. The kiss isn’t long, but it definitely brings home my words to him before – I like him. When he pulls away, I can’t help but smile.

“Why are you smiling?” he asks, lips curved up in the corner.

“Because I’m excited to hear the story about how you got into acting.” He groans and the small smile drops from his face. “I can tell by the way you blush that it must be a good one.”

“I don’t blush.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Stop trying to distract me and answer the question.”

“Did you know you’re sexy when you’re bossy?”

“Asher! If you don’t tell me I’m just going to look it up later. I’m sure there’s all kinds of information readily available on the Internet. And then I’d only have someone else’s version.”

He groans again, louder this time. While he may be doing it because he doesn’t want to tell me something, it’s sexy as hell. Even a couple women next to us glance over toward him, their eyes not leaving him once they find the source. “Okay, I’ll tell you but you can’t laugh.”

“Okay, I won’t laugh,” I tell him automatically hoping I’m being honest.

“Um, well, see, there was this commercial I was in.”

“Wait, wait, how did you get the commercial?”

“I was in college and just needed some extra money. A buddy of mine told me that commercials or modeling gigs pay a lot of money, so on a whim I went to an audition. Believe it or not, I was cast in the commercial and when a casting director saw it air, he contacted the director and asked for my phone number.”

“I bet that was a crazy phone call.”

“Yes, I didn’t believe them at first and thought it was one of my buddies pranking me. Anyway, he asked me to come in and read for a part in a movie. It wasn’t a big role, but I guess I had the look they were searching for. Seems silly now, but I swear it’s the truth. When they offered me the part, I had to rush to find an agent because I needed help with the contract and all that. Next thing I know, I’m in a movie called Strain. Which is kind of ironic, really.”

“Why is that ironic?”

“Because the commercial was for a constipation solution.” He blurts the sentence out fast and it happens to come while I’m drinking a sip of my water. That water, flies out of my mouth in a spray a sprinkler would envy. Asher looks at me in surprise, and then I begin to laugh. “Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh at me!”

“It’s your fault,” I tell him in between gasps for air. “You’re the one that made the joke about strain and constipation.” He shakes his head, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth. “Who would have thought that a constipation cream commercial would have brought you such a stream of good luck?” I snort in laughter. “See what I did there?”

We laugh and while looking at the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, his beautiful smile and the husky sound of his laugh that I love so much, suddenly this moment is surreal. If anyone had told me that someday I would be sitting in Cabo San Lucas with Asher Charming laughing over constipation I would never have believed it. It’s gross and yet incredibly funny.

“That was a really bad joke,” he says when we stop laughing.

“It was. And also, full disclosure, Ash?” His smile widens likely from my shortening of his name. “I’m totally looking up that commercial on the internet. I bet you anything it’s out there.”

“You better not!” he exclaims.

“If I had my phone I would totally be looking right now. Roaming charges be damned.”

“Not cool, princess. Not cool.”

We smile at each other and I find myself wishing the day would never end.

We hang out at the pool for a few hours talking about some of our favorite movies, actors and actresses. He finds my love of chick flicks amusing and swears to star in one just for me. On the way back to the resort, I rest my head on his shoulder. It seems silly, but both of us are exhausted. The sun’s rays have sucked up all of our energy and we’re left feeling drained. When we arrive back to the room, I look longingly at the bed.

As if reading my mind, Asher says with a yawn, “I’m thinking a nap before dinner would be nice. What do you think?”

I can’t agree fast enough as his yawn makes me yawn too, “Sounds like a perfect idea.”

We don’t take time to disrobe or shower, we just kick off our shoes and crash on the freshly made bed. He pulls me into his arms and I smile at the feeling and think about maybe letting my hands wander a bit. That’s the last thing I remember until I wake up a little while later. For a few minutes I enjoy the feeling of being in his arms again. Twilight is upon us casting the room in shades of deep gold and amber, the effect soothing and I could probably go back to sleep if I just shut my eyes, but knowing I won’t sleep a wink tonight, I restrain. Otherwise I could be tired and cranky tomorrow, not what I want. Since Asher is still resting, I slide out of bed as quietly as possible to use the restroom and take a shower before I get changed for the dinner reservations Asher told me we have.

Shutting myself in the bathroom, I relieve my bladder then start the shower water. While waiting patiently for it to warm, I disrobe and then check myself out in the large mirror above the double sinks. Looking at the front of my body, then the back, it appears my sunblock job and reapplication was a good one. I’m a little pink on my shoulders, but I’m turning a nice tan everywhere else. The freckles on my face, shoulders and back are out in droves; the ultra violet rays I’ve been catching have brought them out of hiding.

Moving my eyes down my body once more, this time I view myself with a critical eye. I run my hands over my full breasts, thankful they sit high and proud. Holding my arms out at my sides, I view the toned lines and my jutting collarbone. My tummy is slightly rounded and my hips are curvier than I’d prefer, and my thighs will never have a gap between them, but there isn’t much I can do about that now. Besides, men love curves, right? And Asher and I have already been intimate, not to mention I’ve been prancing around in a bikini, so where the hell are these nervous feelings of inadequacy coming from? My body has never bothered me before.