Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1) (18 page)

He gave a rueful chuckle. “I produced a show about a big family in the Midwest. Mom, dad, grandparents, lots of kids. Upstanding citizens, Sunday School teachers, everybody loved them. They had this agreement with shelters to foster farm animals on their property and sometimes they fostered kids, too. Supposed to be a feel-good kind of story. Heartwarming.”

She took a sip of wine, waiting for him to go on.

“It started out well. I liked them, thought they were the real thing. But then—” He rested his chin on his fist. “I was too quick to buy their whole story, didn't do a thorough job of vetting. As it turned out, the oldest kid was running a drug operation out of a shed on the property and the father had another family no one knew about, fifty miles away. Then one of the daughters was arrested for shoplifting. It all went to hell pretty fast.” He met her eyes.

“Dream reality TV.” She didn’t try to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“You might think so.” He rubbed his chin. “But it wasn’t. The police wanted our footage and the network we’d contracted with said no way would they be a part of this. We’d filmed six episodes, but had to pack up our stuff and leave.”

“Not good.”

“I was fired from the production company. Wasn’t sure I’d get another chance, but I did. This show.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I’m not saying they were wrong in firing me. I should have learned my lesson by then.”

“What lesson?”

He looked down at his fingers, beating out a steady rhythm, and dropped his voice. “That people aren’t what they seem.”

Charley let silence tick off in the room until at last he raised his gaze to hers. “
Some
people aren’t what they seem,” she said. “The trick is in learning to tell the difference.” Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact. Pretty good for someone curled up in the fetal position less than an hour ago.

“You’re more optimistic than I am.”

“Always have been. So you made a mistake. Learn from it and move on.”

“Says the woman who was betrayed by a lazy-ass con man. Have you moved on?”

“I threw him out of here, just before you came.”

“Congratulations.” His voice was tight.

“You didn’t have any problem moving on when we were together.” Charley wasn’t sure if she meant back in college, or the other night. Or both.

The lock on Marc’s side of the adjoining door clicked, the invitation unmistakably loud in the silence of the room.

Luke looked at the door, then back at Charley. “You’re right.” He motioned to himself with both hands, head to toe. “Not what I seem. Can’t trust me.”

“Never said I could.”

“Smart.” His jaw tightened and he jerked his head toward the adjoining door. “What about him?”

Her breath hitched. “I don’t know.”

Luke shrugged. “Could be worse guys. Me, for one.”

“Warning me off?”

His eyes held hers. “You don’t know me anymore.”

“You
need
people to think you’re a bad guy—”

“Only the people who are important to me,” he shot back. He blanched, as if he’d said more than he wanted to.

They stared at each other.

“I’d better go. Wouldn’t want to get in Marc’s way.” He pushed himself up from the chair.

“I want you to tell me something first.”

He stood, waiting.

“I heard the contestants on this show aren’t quite crazy enough.”

He snorted. “Not sure that’s true.”

“And that the producers might be inserting drama, mixing things up.”

“You didn’t think the exes episode was enough drama?” He shook his head.

“A question isn’t an answer.”

Her jerked his head in apology, cocking his head to one side. “Okay.”

She dropped her voice, so low even she could hardly hear it. “Was what happened the other night a part of that?”

He went still. “Charley. No.” His voice broke in half. “Jesus. It had nothing to do with the show.”

“I want to believe you,” she whispered.

He closed the distance between them, kneeling in front of her chair. His hands wrapped around her bare arms. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I might not have always told you everything I should have, but I didn’t lie. That—shouldn’t have happened. Because of the contract and because I don’t want to get in the way of something good happening for you. But it had nothing to do with drama on the show.”

Maybe she believed him.

The man’s heart was wrapped in layers and layers of protective bandages. He needed someone with a strong enough hand to wield the scissors. That was the one thing she’d always doubted about herself. Strength. Her hand could tremble and accidentally cut him to pieces.

“You don’t have to go.” She could hear her heart thudding in her ears.

“I do.” He rose and started for the door.

She followed him. “Why can’t you be the something good that happens for me?”

Luke turned. “Because I’m not.” His brows drew together and his lips parted. “And you know it.”

She moved to him, close enough to feel his breath on her cheeks. She reached her hands up and put them on either side of his face, feeling the whiskers scrape against her palms. She pulled his head down and touched her lips to his.

He pulled away, staring at the ceiling. “This is a bad idea—”

“I know,” she whispered, pulling his mouth to hers again.

He resisted at first, but then gave in, kissing her hungrily. Charley’s hands slid down, finding his waist, then came up under his shirt, pressing against the hard muscles of his chest.

He broke their embrace, his eyes half-lidded. “You want someone who won’t let you down. That’s not me.”

“Then
be
someone who won’t let me down.” The words felt like shattered glass in her throat.

He closed his eyes. “Shit, Charley. Don’t do this.”

But she did. She couldn’t have stopped herself if she tried. And she didn’t try.

Slowly, while feathering kisses on his cheek and from the bottom of his ear to where his neck and shoulder met, she undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it down his arms and off. She slid her hands under the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it wherever. When she unbuckled the belt on his jeans and unzipped his fly, he groaned.

Reaching behind her, she undid the tie at the top of her dress and reached down to clutch folds of her gauze skirt and pull upward until the dress was over her head. It met his t-shirt wherever.

She stood before him, wearing only a thong, her nipples hard in anticipation. She cast about the floor, found his shirt, and slipped it on, gathering the extra fabric at the back, leaving the front gaping open and her breasts at attention. His cheeks flushed and his eyes became hazy with desire.

“You can leave,” she said lightly, walking to the bed. “But are you sure you want to?” Slowly, she slipped off her thong, letting it dangle from her fingertips before it dropped to the carpet.

He kicked off his shoes then stripped himself of his socks, tossing them aside. His jeans and underwear came off together in one swift pull, leaving him naked, tanned, hard-muscled and fully erect.

Charley sat on the bed, reveling in the feel of his shirt on her body as she breathed in the scent of him. She patted a spot next to her; any residual shyness that had threatened earlier was a thing of the past.

He made his way to the bed, lowering himself next to her. He cupped her face and began kissing her, slowly at first, feathering kisses down her neck, over her shoulders then back up where he nipped her lightly, licking the sting before moving to her earlobe, where he sucked and pulled her skin into his mouth.

She pushed his shoulders down and straddled him, caressing his hair, trailing her fingertips over his brows, his mouth, making him wait, relishing the torture as much as giving it.

They might not have a future, but they had all night.

Her hands began caressing his shoulders and moved down slowly, her tongue licking at his nipples, circling his navel, then following his treasure trail to the base of his cock. Once she’d made it all the way around the length of the shaft, she took the head inside her mouth and sucked, released, sucked again. His back arched and his groan rumbled from deep in his chest.

She loved it. She loved
him
.

She was in
so
much trouble.

When she lowered herself onto him, gaze fixed on his, the crushing tide of passion that rolled through her proved so intense, it left her breathless. They moved together, as one, and she fell forward, her damp body clinging to his, her arms locked around him, as if she had the power to never to let him go again.

He rolled them to their sides, their breathing slowing as the haze lifted. Luke propped himself up with one arm and looked into her eyes so tenderly, she was unprepared for what he said next. “I have to leave.”

She stared at him, open-mouthed, the breath leaving her body for a second. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She knew better and wished for more. Her fault.

“I have to.”

“Of course you do,” she said, forcing herself to sound as if she didn’t care. “Go on then.” To reinforce her point, she put her foot against his leg and pushed as hard as she could.

He didn’t even have the good grace to look ashamed. Dressing quickly, he searched for his shirt in the rumpled sheets, his gaze never rising to meet hers. He snagged a sleeve and pulled it and draped the shirt over his shoulders as he made his way out the door.

After he left, she went into the bathroom and threw up. Then she lay down on the floor, her cheek against the cool tile, and told herself none of it mattered. She
had
known better.

If reliable Howard had been there, he would have been right next to her on the floor, a protective paw on her arm.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Make Me a Match

Episode Eleven

Parents and Pretense

“We are pleased to be back in our contestants’ hometown of Seattle,” Rob began. “And what a beautiful city it is.” He swept his hand behind him to indicate the Space Needle. A drop of rain splashed in his eye, and then another. “Hold on.” He swiped his hand across his eye, turning to Luke. “Is my makeup ruined?”

He signaled for the camera to stop and stepped forward to Rob, giving his face a once-over. “No, you’re fine.”

“Is that all it does here, rain?”

“This time of year, yes, I think so.” It was only sprinkling, but Rob owned melodrama like a sobbing soap opera diva.

“How do people live like this?” He shook his head. On the way over, he’d made a girly fuss that he was not drip dry, thank you very much, so the weather had better cooperate.

Luke glanced upward, where dark clouds gathered. “Let’s wrap this up quick. Our first meet and greet starts in an hour.”

“Shit,” Rob muttered. “Okay, go.” He plastered a smile on his face and started over. “We are excited to be back in our contestants’ hometown of Seattle.” Once again, he swept a hand toward the Space Needle. “And what a beautiful city it is.”

Luke heard the subtle grinding of Rob’s bleached teeth.

“We are looking forward to today,” Rob went on, “when the most important people in our contestants’ lives—their families and friends—will gather to meet their perfect matches. These people won’t mince words. They’ll tell us exactly what they think. And at the end of our show comes the most important part. When you, America, will cast your vote for the couple you believe is indeed perfectly matched.” Rob grasped his hands in front of him and directed his earnest gaze into the camera lens. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait. So let’s get started.”

“And…cut.”

Luke breathed a sigh of relief and hustled Rob over to the van before the skies opened up.

He opened his mouth, and Luke beat him to the punch. “Your makeup and hair were perfect. And your delivery…right on. I’m telling you, no one else is as good at this as you. No one.”

Rob murmured a gracious thank you and leaned back against the leather seat, closing his eyes against the offending weather.

Luke turned his gaze out the window, allowing the grayness of the day to engulf him as his mind zeroed back to the memory of holding Charley in his arms.
Stupid, stupid asshole.
The first time he’d been drunk. An excuse, if not a reason, but the other night, he’d been in control of every decision he’d made. He’d known what he was doing. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Glancing at Rob, Luke thought, one more reason he’d be glad when the show was over. He couldn’t wait to be done with handling the fragile ego of a forty-five-year-old man whose biggest fear in life was going bald.

Luke had never met Charley’s family. She was from a small town three hours away from their university, and while they’d been together, her family had not come to visit. In a weird twist of odds and probabilities, her mom had been planning to come for Mom’s Weekend a week after Luke had left school.

Families were scary. Expectations went with meeting them. Expectations he hadn’t been able to handle.

When he walked into the private room of the restaurant where the show had arranged the meeting, Charley and her family were already there, standing in a corner.