Lovestruck in Los Angeles (21 page)

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I miss you when you’re gone so much, but I’m not really sure what there is to do about that. I knew it would be this way when I agreed to come, you know.”

He frowned, clearly not satisfied with that response. “I think we need to work on making the time we spend together more special,” he said slowly. “So that we at least have that happy stuff to hang on to when we’re apart.”

“I can deal with that.” I leaned in for another kiss, an idea forming in my head. “Speaking of that, when’s your next day off?”

“In two days, as a matter of fact. We’re off on Wednesday since we have a weekend shoot.” He winked at me. “I was thinking…maybe beach day?”

“Hmm, beach days are nice.” In my mind, though, I knew a beach day was not what we needed, not right now. We needed something special, something we could both think about when we weren’t together, like Thomas said.

“Are you done with that?” I asked, pointing at his plate as I started to move off his lap. I was surprised when he tightened his arms.

“Wait, Lizzie.” I turned back to face him, and his eyes were serious. “We should talk about last night.”

The knot returned to my stomach. “Do we have to?”

He smiled and kissed my nose. “Just real quick. I need you to know that I’m in this for the long haul, okay? A baby would not upset me in the slightest, because I know we’ll be together regardless. Does that make sense?”

I nodded, feeling a strong rush of love for him. “I know. And I think once the shock wore off, I would have felt the same way. But you have to understand how rough this has been on me, being separated from my family this way. You might think their judgment is silly, that it shouldn’t matter, but it matters to me.”

He started to argue, so I put my finger over his mouth. “Just wait a second. They’re too strict, I know that. Too old fashioned. And I’m not going to let their judgments affect the choices I make or the life I live.” I took a deep breath, realizing that my words were true. It had taken a long time to get me to that point. “But that doesn’t mean I want anything to happen that will make it worse, you know? When you and I have a baby—” as I said the words, I felt a thrill run through me. This would be true, someday. Thomas and I were
going
to have a family, I knew it. “I want that moment to be exciting and joyful for everyone. Including my family.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I want that too.”

“Well, for my family, that means us being married first.” I paused, looking down. “And, honestly, that’s what would make me happiest too. I was raised that way, Thomas. When we start a family, I want the whole shebang.”

“The whole shebang, huh?” He raised his eyebrows. “Big white wedding dress and all?”

I blushed. “Yup. Sorry, buddy, but if we get married, a morning suit is going to be in your future.”

He snuggled me in closer, kissing my shoulder. “A morning suit is what we wear in England. I thought you Yanks were more accustomed to dinner jackets.”

“Is that, like, a tux?”

He laughed. “Yeah, a tux.”

“Well, I guess it would depend on where we got married, wouldn't it?” My stomach felt kind of weird, talking about all of this so matter of fact. Like it was a foregone conclusion that a wedding was in the future. I remembered the gift he didn’t give me on Christmas and wondered if he was thinking of it, too. Thomas didn’t seem at all shaken though; he merely nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I’ll wear whatever you want, Lizzie, just so long as we get to have an open bar at the reception.”

I laughed. “Deal.”

He finally let me up off his lap after that but insisted that he would do the dishes so I could rest a little after my illness and sleepless night. I assured him that I would, but crossed my fingers behind my back. As soon as I was sure he was preoccupied with the dishwasher, I opened my laptop and started putting my new plan for his day off into motion.

Chapter Seventeen

“Thomas,” I whispered, pushing gently on his arm. Our bedroom was dimly lit, and Thomas was snoring in bed. “Thomas, wake up.”

“Whattimezit?” he mumbled, rolling over and burying his face into the pillow.

“It’s early, babe, but you need to get up.”

He suddenly sat straight up in bed, with a wild look in his eyes. “Am I late for the shoot?”

“No, no,” I said, and rubbed his bicep. “No shoot today, remember?”

He breathed out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank God. That would have been just what I needed.” He turned to face me. “Why’d you wake me up, then?”

“Sorry,” I said, climbing up so I could kneel next to him on the mattress.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you all dressed?”

“I wanted to let you sleep in while I got ready and made breakfast,” I said. “But you really need to get in the shower now.”

“Why? I thought we were going to chill on the beach?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I have something better in mind.” I was having trouble keeping the grin off my face. The truth was, I was more excited about this than I expected him to be, though I knew he’d been dying to experience what I had planned as well. “Come on,” I said, pulling on his arm. “Get in the shower.”

“What’s going on?” he finally seemed to catch on to the fact that I was up to something. “What did you do?”

“Get. Up. Or I’ll eat all the bacon.”

“You made bacon?” his voice sounded hopeful and boyish, and I laughed.

“Yes, but bacon is only for those of us that get moving.”

He quickly jumped out of bed, apparently awake. I shook my head. I should have just led with the bacon.

Once I heard the shower start up, I headed downstairs to finish breakfast. Aside from the bacon, I’d kept our breakfast pretty light. Just some toast and fruit. I had a feeling we were both going to want to save room in our stomachs for where we were going. I had just finished the coffee when Thomas bounded down the steps, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair wet from the shower.

“That smells fantastic,” he said, joining me at the counter and kissing the top of my head. “So, where are we going?”

“Grab the milk,” I said, taking our plates to the breakfast bar. “Hurry up, slowpoke.”

He sighed, but I thought I detected a trace of a smile on his mouth. Thomas loved surprises.

Once we were settled at the table, I pointed to his bare feet. “You might want shoes and socks.”

He raised his eyebrows. “My sandals won’t do?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Lots of walking. You don’t want blisters on your pretty movie-star feet, do you?”

“Okay, where are we going?” He set his toast on the side of his plate. “You’re killing me.”

“It’s somewhere really special,” I said, buttering my own toast like I didn’t have a care in the world. “And it’s somewhere that you’ve always wanted to go.”

“Always?”

“Always, always. Like, since you were a little boy.”

He suddenly went very still. “Lizzie,” he said in a measured tone. “Are we going to Disneyland?”

I grinned at him across the table. “Surprise!”

He was up and out of his chair before I could set down my toast, pulling me up from my seat. “Seriously?”

“I bought tickets last night. The park opens in half an hour.”

He started to jump up and down like a little kid, making me laugh until he grabbed my hands and made me jump with him.

“Stop it,” I cried, still laughing. “You’re acting like a five year old!”

“We get to go to Disneyland!” he crowed. “I’m so excited!”

“Thomas Harper, you’re a grown man.” I tried to scold him, though I was still smiling pretty damn hard myself. “Act like it.”

“Nope. No acting like a grown-up, not today. Not on Disney Day.”

“Oh, dear lord,” I muttered in my best judgmental voice as I pulled my hands away and retook my seat. “I should have known you’d act like this.”

“You should have,” he agreed easily. “You know I’ve been dying to go since we got here.”

“Well, finish your breakfast so we can get going.”

He took his seat next to me but could barely finish his coffee. He just kept grinning around the room stupidly. I tried to roll my eyes and pretend like I was judging him, but the truth was, he was adorable. I was so glad I’d had the idea.

He managed to wait until I finished my coffee before he urged me to hurry and finish getting ready. I searched for my own tennis shoes and purse, trying to ignore the way he bounced around me, looking at his watch obsessively. “Thomas,” I said, a warning in my voice.

“Sorry,” he said, checking his watch again. “Did you need me to, like, help you find your shoes?”

“You’re
worse
than a five year old.” I finally remembered my shoes were in the office upstairs. I took the stairs two at a time—I was honestly nearly as excited as Thomas. My family and I had visited Disneyworld in Florida years ago, and I remembered it being wonderful. Just the idea of spending an entire, uninterrupted day with Thomas was enough to make me want to hurry.

We finally made it down to the car. “Do I need to drive?” I asked sternly. “Are you too excited to be safe?”

“I’ll drive careful, I promise,” he said in his best low and serious tone. I handed him the keys, and he betrayed himself by practically sprinting to the driver’s door.

The beach house was a good forty-five minutes from the park, and the Friday morning traffic extended our trip even more. Thomas didn’t seem to mind though—he blasted the radio, drove with the top down, and generally looked happier than I had seen him in ages. He insisted on driving one handed so he could hold my palm in his, letting go only when he had to shift gears.

We followed the signs for parking, ending up spilling into a multilevel car garage along with what seemed to be the entire population of Anaheim. As we parked, I looked at the throngs streaming past our car with concern. I probably should have arranged this between Heidi’s office and the park officials. What if people recognized him? What if he got mobbed?

“I wonder if I should have called Heidi,” I said. “I wasn’t even thinking about people recognizing you.”

He just grinned at me, pulling on his sunglasses. “I’ll buy a Disney hat as soon as we’re inside.”

We followed the crowds down to waiting trams. I thought I saw a few teenagers look at Thomas in a curious sort of way, but mostly everyone else seemed either too excited to notice him or too preoccupied with their kids.

And there were a lot of kids. I wasn’t sure if it was our recent scare, but I found myself much more aware of the under-three set than I usually was. They all looked so excited, so happy to be there. I found myself grinning at a toddler in his mom’s arm and had to shake myself.
Don’t be creepy, Lizzie
.

We managed to get through the gates and into the park without incident. As promised, Thomas headed to a souvenir stand right away to buy a hat. “How ‘bout this one?” He asked, holding up a baseball cap decorated as Goofy, complete with long, dangling ears.

“Do you want to wear that all day?” I asked, my eyebrows raised.

“You think I should go for Mickey?” he asked seriously, pointing at another cap donned with mouse ears.

I shook my head, laughing. “Whatever floats your boat, babe.”

He decided on the Mickey hat, deciding it was more classic, and thus a better keepsake, and we set off further into the park. Thomas, who appeared not to be lying when he told me he’d spent years researching the park, demanded we ride the Matterhorn first. “It was the first tubular steel coaster, Lizzie,” he said eagerly. “It totally revolutionized theme parks when it was built.”

“Oh, dear God.” This had the potential to be a really long day.

But one look at Thomas’s face on the ride quelled any annoyance I might have felt. He laughed and whooped over every dip and turn. I found myself shaking my head, marveling that this was the same person who could be seen brooding in the face of flashbulbs on the red carpet. Thomas Harper, the movie star, wearing Mickey ears and squealing like a girl on the Matterhorn.

I let him decide our route around the park, since he knew so much about it. A few times, I was sure someone had recognized him, but we managed to get through the morning unscathed. We ate funnel cake and Mickey bars between rides and watched the parade from a shaded bench. It was a perfect morning.

“Are you ready for California Adventures?” I asked around lunchtime. Thomas looked momentarily disappointed but perked up when I reminded him they had a huge roller coaster in Disneyland’s adjoining park.

“I want a picture first,” he said, pointed at the castle. “We need something to remember this.”

So we waited next to a park photographer as he snapped shots of the family in front of us. When it was our turn, the photographer directed us into position so he’d be able to get the castle behind us. Thomas pulled his sunglasses off and wrapped an arm around me, grinning for the picture.

“No moody pout?” I asked. “What will the fans think?”

He pinched my waist, making me squeal.

“How ‘bout one without the hat?” the photographer called.

Without thinking, I plucked it from his head. “Oh, thank God,” I said in my best British accent. “You looked a right tosser in that.”

He was still laughing when I heard the scream. It came from our left, and we both spun in that direction. I was momentarily scared—had someone been hurt? But then I heard another scream, more like a squeal this time, and Thomas’s face seemed to fall.

“It’s him!”

I watched in horror as a group of teenaged girls all turned in our direction, driven by the yells of one of their friends. Crap. There were, like, ten of them. Were they a school group? I didn’t have much time to wonder before they were all yelling and running towards us.

“Damn it,” Thomas muttered, shifting so I was behind him. Then they were upon us, the girls all squealing and giggling and grabbing for him.

“Will you take a picture with me?”

“Sign my hat!”

“Kiss me!”

We were drawing a lot of attention, and I noticed, with a sense of foreboding, that there were other groups of teenagers around us. This could get really bad.