as a little makeup and hairstyling is good for others,” she admitted.
“But you were completely right, too, as I’d have known if I’d listened a little longer before jumping on my soapbox.” His grin settled her.
And got her going again, too, in a way she was much more comfortable with.
“No matter what we’re born with or, as you say, what happens to us, we still feel better about ourselves when we give attention to our bodies. When we do all we can with what we have,” she said, happy that her rhetoric had value.
She wanted to touch his face. Had wanted to so many times over the months she’d known him, but never so much as she did in that moment. Wanted him to know he didn’t have to tilt his head slightly to the side to hide himself from her view.
“I really do find you beautiful, Michael.” The words were all wrong. She knew it as soon as they spilled out.
He didn’t push her away. He’d never be that cruel. He just stepped back until her hand fell from his chest and down to her thigh.
“You don’t need to work me, Kace,” he said, a note of bitterness mixed with pity in his tone. If such a thing were possible.
She felt pitied as he looked at her.
“I’ll find your hacker. And I’ll find out why you appear to have been targeted for things you don’t do anymore. But I’ll do it because I’m under the impression that we’ve become friends. Not because you turn on your charm.”
Stung to the core, she felt real tears spring to her eyes. And blinked hard a couple of times so they’d leave before they showed. She was an actress—a good one—she could do calm and unaffected just fine.
With a laugh, she tapped his chest again, hoping it wasn’t out of a pathetic need to show them both that she was allowed to do so. “I’m not working you, honey,” she said with an obviously made-up drawl. And then, more seriously, “If I ever work you, Michael, you won’t know what hit you.”
What in the hell did she mean by that?
This whole stalking thing—not that she was anywhere close to being stalked—but seeing herself framed as the drunk she’d once been had upset her. A lot. She didn’t like that woman. Was ashamed of her.
Didn’t want her family to see her in that light.
She wasn’t that woman anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she told Michael. “I just... It feels kind of like someone is trying to force me to be the old Kacey whether I choose to or not...”
“I know.” He nodded. Didn’t smile. The look in those chocolate-brown eyes was kind.
She had to go. And let him get back to his life, too. It was selfish of her, the way she’d call and let him come running.
Her butt landed against her car when she leaned back rather than turning. “I meant what I said. I was not working you.”
He nodded.
“You’re a beautiful man. Outside and in.”
She saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. Not something that she’d noticed before.
“I’m smart enough to figure out, based on your scars, that at one point, the left side of your face was difficult to look at.” She was staring him straight in the eye. “It’s not anymore, Michael. The scars, they show strength...” She shrugged. “I don’t know, integrity, somehow. Like you have what it takes to wear them well.”
She was a class-A idiot. Lacey had said, on more than one occasion, that she didn’t know how to let things lie. Always had to prod to the fullest degree.
But then, Lacey was a happy, newly married woman and stepmother partially because of Kacey’s prodding, so it wasn’t like her identical twin could complain too much.
Michael wasn’t speaking. But he hadn’t left her standing there alone, either.
“Okay, well, I have to get back to the city,” she said. Sliding toward her door, she spun and grabbed the handle, pulled, started to lower herself to the black leather bucket seat.
“Kace?”
“Yeah?” She was staring up into the sun again. Couldn’t make out his expression.
“I think you’re beautiful, too. Inside and out.”
With that he was gone.
And she was left with thoughts of him consuming her. All the way back to real life.
MIKE KNEW, AS he put off dinner with his youngest sister and her family to focus on Kacey’s job, that she’d worked him. Just like she worked every single person she met.
The woman oozed charm by nature, not by choice.
He’d fallen under her spell months ago and had chosen to stay there.
Not only did she add a fascinating little sidebar to his satisfying but rather boring life, but he genuinely liked her. She was flirty and dramatic and could act as well as she played the authenticity card, but she had a bigger heart than most.
One she was just starting to learn to live with. To the world she was a star. A rich, successful actress.
To him she was like a fledgling bird, one that would grow into the dove of peace and be able to save the world, as long as her vulnerabilities were tended to and she was treated with care.
She wasn’t too hard on the eyes, either. He didn’t know a heterosexual guy alive who wouldn’t choose to have alone time with her, given the chance.
He was given the chance. And quite happily took it.
For what it was worth. Not for something it would never be.
He wished he had better news for her when seven o’clock rolled around. He’d settled out by the pool with a shot of bourbon in the backyard of his three-bedroom home.
The home he’d owned in a gated community and had lived in, alone, for the past five years, was situated on a golf course he’d never played.
He hated the sport.
But the lush green grass added value to the property and was nice to look at.
Noticing a theme to his thoughts—surrounding himself with things and people who were nice to look at—he took a sip from his glass and set it down on the table in front of him. Opened his computer and booted up.
His phone rang at a quarter after.
He could hear voices in the background. “You still at work?”
“No, I...” She paused, as though listening to someone else. “I’m sorry, Michael. Bo showed up at the studio this evening and surprised
