Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1) (10 page)

Melanie began to dance, her hair whipping from side to side, as Marc flawlessly delivered the song lyrics. Passersby gathered to watch.

“Who is that?” she heard one woman ask another. “He’s good.”

“The dancer’s pretty good, too,” her companion observed.

Marc stepped closer to Melanie. They were dancing as the crowd grew larger. A man pushed his way in front of Charley, blocking her view. She stepped around him.

Marc and Melanie were on to the chorus and so obviously having a good time, an unexpected pang of jealousy struck Charley. Which was ridiculous, really. He was
her
perfect match, not the perfect match of a random woman on the street who had turned out to be a good dancer.

Marc finished the song with a flourish, going down on one knee as he sang the final lyric—asking if it was too late to say he was sorry. Melanie put her hands over her face to hide her embarrassment. Marc rose and hugged her, to applause and whistles from the crowd, then said something in Melanie’s ear. She nodded and grabbed the handle of the stroller.

Marc waved at the crowd, searching for Charley. She put her hand up. “I’m over here.”

He was at her side a few seconds later. “That was fun.”

“You can sing.”

“I’m a shower singer. But thanks.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “What’s our next task?”

His mouth brushing her skin felt nice. Affectionate, even. She smiled up at him.

“Next?” he asked again.

“Oh. Sorry. Jump on a train?”

He peered down the street. “A train. Nothing comes to mind, but…” He grabbed her hand and pulled. “Come on, let’s find it.”

“Hold on. Let’s ask.”

“We’ll find it.”

“Or we won’t. And we’re being timed.”

He stopped abruptly. “Okay. Let’s ask.”

They each asked several people before one pointed the way. “Carneys restaurant. Over there.”

“Thanks,” Charley said before rushing to keep up with Marc, who was already bolting down the street.

“I see it,” he called over his shoulder. “The restaurant’s inside a yellow train.”

Not long after, they had jumped on the small platform at the back of the colorfully painted train and been filmed waving from it, hand in hand.

It was fun. A little like being a celebrity. For a minute. Wherever they went, most people looked curiously at the cameras then at Marc and Charley. Of course, they also looked away when they realized they had no idea who Marc and Charley were.

“I’m guessing Rocky is at the Bullwinkle statue,” Marc said, “so that will be our last stop. Looks like we’re French kissing in front of the chateau next.” He lifted a brow. “I’m good with that. Are you?”

Charley gulped and nodded. If they were going to win this thing, she’d need to be kissing him. Probably a lot.

“So that’s an easy one. Chateau Marmont. Let’s go.” Once again, he grabbed her hand and led her through throngs of people.

The iconic hotel wasn’t far away, its castle-like structure rising high and dignified above the activity on the Strip. “Wow,” said Charley as they walked up to it. “It’s beautiful. I’ve heard about it. History and secrets.”

“True.” Marc gave the structure little more than a passing glance before positioning them on the narrow sidewalk below the hotel’s sign. Cars roared past and lush greenery loomed overhead. “Can you pan up to get us and the sign?” he asked the cameraman.

At the answering nod, Marc turned Charley to face him. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She closed her eyes and tipped her head to the side. A painful clunk of foreheads came next. “Ow.” She opened her eyes to see Marc rubbing his head. “Let’s try that again,” she laughed.

This time, they kept their eyes open.

Charley leaned to the left at the same time Marc did. When she did a quick adjustment to the right, so did he. The sound guy snickered.

Marc put his hands on either side of her face. “How about you go that way…” He nodded in the opposite direction. “…and I’ll go this way.”

“That works.”

Awkward. They were facing each other straight on, like strangers forced to pose. Which wasn’t all that far from the truth, but
still…

This time, just as he leaned in, Charley tried to shift her foot into a more playful pose, but her shoe slid on a pebble, nearly taking her down to the pavement. She stopped her fall by grabbing on to Marc’s shirt. He lifted her up and set her back on her feet.

“Sorry.” She released the fabric from her grip. “Maybe this isn’t a good spot.”

“We don’t have time to look for another one, unless we want to lose this thing. Third time’s a charm.”

Marc took charge of the situation, again holding Charley’s head between his hands. He brought her closer to him and closed his lips on hers. Their tongues touched and explored.

And…no bells, no Hallelujah Chorus, no spontaneous lifting of her foot, no stirrings of desire. Just a perfectly nice kiss from a perfectly nice guy.

Charley wasn’t a quitter, though. She stayed with it, mentally pushing up her sleeves and doing her best to ignore honks from passing drivers, the pungent smell of exhaust mixed with jasmine, and the bird watching them with interest from a tree limb.

She had to close her eyes again. That would help.

Abruptly, Marc pulled away. “Come on, we have to get to Bullwinkle and Rocky. Last thing on the list.”

She looked at him, wondering whether he’d had a similar reaction to their kiss. Shit. She’d hoped for something. Anything. It didn’t help that she had the fresh memory of Luke’s kiss to compare it to. Damn Luke.

Give me something to work with here,
she implored the matchmaking gods, wherever they might be. No answer. They were probably busy keeping a meddling eye on Jason and Trevor.

“What?” Marc asked.

“Nothing. Do you know where to find Bullwinkle and Rocky?”

“I asked Melanie after she finished dancing. She told me there’s a statue in the lobby of city hall. It’s not far away. Just a couple of streets from here.” He grinned, before landing a peck on the top of her head. “Oh, and great kiss, by the way.”

And
that
was the problem.

He began to jog away, the cameramen following. Charley joined them. Marc was ahead of her all the way, but she kept him in sight despite having to make her way through people slowly strolling and peeking in store windows.

Once again, he didn’t wait for the pedestrian light, but took advantage of backed-up traffic to bob and weave to the other side of the street. By the time Charley reached the intersection, the light had turned back to
walk.

“There it is,” Marc shouted, pointing ahead.

Several heads that weren’t Charley’s turned to look at him. She kept her eyes straight ahead, on him, her mind racing as she wondered how in the hell she would get her body to cooperate; it wasn’t lusting after her perfect match. A vital reaction was sleeping on the job. She had to wake it up, get it caffeine.
Like that would help.

They could do this. He was a man. She was a woman. He was interested; he’d unlocked his side of the adjoining door.

And she’d slept with Luke. Well, after. She’d slept with Luke after. Dammit.

Marc stopped at the door to a low, modern building and beckoned her inside. It took her a couple of minutes to catch up. When she did, he held the door for her.

And there it was. A statue of a giant brown moose wearing red and white stripes and holding, in his upturned palm, a gray squirrel with an aviator cap. “Wow,” she said, in between pants. “That has to be, what, fifteen, twenty feet high?”

“And we have to high-five Rocky, at the top of it.”

“Can’t stop the time until you’ve done that.” Both Charley and Marc turned to see Luke standing in a corner, not far away, a clipboard in one hand and his phone in the other.

Her heartbeat sped up.
Luke
.
Shit.

She turned away before he could see. Luke was the past; Marc was the future
. Like this morning was the past. What had she been thinking?

“I’m taller,” Marc said. “I can climb up on the base and try to reach.”

Charley put her hands on her hips, hoping Marc didn’t see them trembling, and sized up the situation. “You won’t be able to, even standing on the base. This thing’s too tall.”

“You’re right.” He turned to her. “Maybe we can do it if I lift you.”

“Okay.” She stepped up to the base of the statue. “You keep watch.” There weren’t many people in the lobby at the moment, but she had an idea the city wouldn’t be too happy about people climbing on their statue.

“Be careful.” Marc’s hands went under her arms and he gently lifted her up and onto the base.

“I have to get on his thigh.” The moose’s right thigh was raised, in something like a football pose. “Help me.” From the corner of her eye, she saw a group of tourists, their mouths wide, watching her. This was going to have go down fast, before someone sounded an alarm.

Marc put his hands on her hips and then moved to cupping her bottom as she put her shoes on Bullwinkle’s thigh. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Charley stretched her body, and her right hand, as far as she could. She still couldn’t reach the squirrel’s upraised hand. “I’ll have to jump.”

“Charley,” came Luke’s warning voice. “Don’t. You’re going to get hurt.”

He cared. Or he was thinking about the show’s liability. She went with the latter. “I’ll be fine,” she said to the moose, though she wasn’t that sure.

“I don’t know if jumping is such a good idea,” Marc said.

“Just catch me if I fall.” She took a deep breath and, using Bullwinkle’s thigh as a platform, launched herself toward the squirrel. “Aghh,” she squealed as she missed and had to grab on to the moose’s crooked elbow. She dangled from it for a few seconds before she felt Marc’s arms close around her legs.

The tourists in the corner put their hands to their mouths as one.

“I’ve got you,” Marc said again. “I won’t let you fall.”

Aw. He really was a good guy.

“I’m not worried,” Charley said lightly, though her damp palms said otherwise. “I swing from a moose’s arm all the time.”

Luke’s anxious face moved into her view. “Why don’t you guys call this one? Trust me, the prize isn’t all that great. Not worth you getting hurt.”

“No way,” Marc said. “This is the last thing on our list. Charley, slide down, through my arms.”

She did, until she’d safely landed on the moose’s thigh and then the statue’s base. “Marc’s right. We’re too close to give up.” She rubbed her palms on her shorts, still not looking at Luke.

“I’ve got an idea,” Marc said. “I’ll get on the base. Then you get on my shoulders.” He scrambled up.

Charley looked at his shoulders and then at Rocky’s raised…hand…or paw…whatever it was that she had to slap. From behind Marc, she saw a uniformed security guard eye them and then begin walking toward the statue.

“Move to my other side,” she told Marc, “and then put your hands together so I can put my feet in them.”

“Charley,” Luke warned.

Marc moved around her and bent to position his hands. As Charley put one shoe in them, he said to the cameramen, “You guys getting this? Only going to happen once.”

They nodded and Charley put an arm on his shoulder and stepped up with her other foot. Slowly, he began to lift her toward Rocky.

“Hey,” the security guard called. “You can’t do that. Get down.”

Marc continued lifting her through the air, and she snaked her hands along the statue for balance. “All right,” she said. “Put my feet on your shoulders.”

“Are you sure?”

A different man had asked her if she was sure, about something quite different just last night. She had been then, but right now, with giant moose eyes nearly in her face, she wasn’t. Balance and coordination had never been a strength.

Still. Luke—no,
Marc
worrying about her gave her a warm fuzzy feeling. Or was that nerves?

Marc transferred her feet, one at a time, to his shoulders. Charley wobbled, nearly losing her balance, and the tourists in the corner gave a collective gasp. Luke stepped forward, his arms outstretched, ready to catch her.

The arms that had held her so tight only hours ago.

“Come here, squirrel,” Charley breathed. She stretched, then stretched farther, until at last her palm connected with Rocky’s. “We did it!” She was so relieved, she overcorrected when she straightened and swayed backward. It could have been a head-over-heels fall onto the floor if Marc hadn’t opened his hands and caught her on the way down. He held tight to her waist and then set her on the base of the statue.

“Whoa. You scared me,” he said, wiping mock sweat from his brow.

“Me too,” she admitted.

If she’d had to fall, she would have twisted herself into a pretzel to do it in Luke’s direction. She knew it. And didn’t like it.

The security guard arrived, pointing a furious finger at Marc, Charley, Luke, and the camera crew. “Out. Now.”

Marc leapt from the base first then helped Charley down. “Sorry,” he said to the guard, followed by Charley’s more contrite, “Really sorry.”

They scrambled for the door, with Marc asking Luke, “What was our time? Did we win? We beat the others, didn’t we? I know it. I know we did.”

Luke didn’t answer until they were safely a couple of blocks away. Then he pulled out his phone. “Shit.”

“What?” Marc leaned forward, hands on his hips.

“I thought I had pushed the button to stop the time. But that’s okay, I’m doing it now.”

“That’s okay?” Marc’s voice rose. “That’s not okay, dude. At all. Subtract time, right now.”

Luke shook his head. “Sorry. I can’t. It’s against the rules. But it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes, so it’s not going to be a problem. You guys did great.”

Marc slapped his forehead, groaning. “I can’t believe it.” He walked away, shaking his head.

Luke dialed his cell and reported their time. He was silent as the other person spoke then he pressed his lips together in a grimace and bent at the waist, looking at the pavement. “Okay. Yeah,” he said before ending the call.