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He closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the vanity, trying to will his cock to simmer down. It didn’t listen. If anything it grew harder, probably because he couldn’t shake images of Jodi from his mind.
Fuck. He hadn’t realized she had affected him this much. Something about the way she’d grilled him about the game show one minute and switched to hounding him with questions the next appealed to him. The duplicity.
There were so many sides to Jodi. She wasn’t just the hard-nosed bar owner he’d met the moment she entered the room. The one who didn’t think it was a good idea to employ him. She was also sharp as a whip. She had a long-term memory for drink orders that rivaled even the most seasoned barmen in the industry. She could laugh hard, glare daggers, and narrow her gaze pensively all in less than a minute.
Tuck spent most of the night learning her expressions, unable to avoid keeping one eye on her while the other scrutinized every single patron. He told himself the reason he watched her so closely was because she had insinuated she would let any man or woman who offered her drugs lure her into a sale. He had to watch her for her own safety.
Sure. Right. Keep telling yourself that.
Tuck’s hand found its way to his cock and began stroking it without permission. Tuck ducked his head a bit farther and pursed his lips, knowing the effort to stop himself from jacking off was lost. All he could do was hope he could do so quickly and quietly without Katia knowing.
He would be flushed when he left the bathroom, but that seemed preferable to having a hard-on.
It didn’t take long. The visual of the mercurial woman he’d met twelve hours ago made it easy for him to quickly stroke himself to completion. He even held his breath, not releasing it until he was spent.
After a few moments, during which he fought for composure, he took a slow breath, grabbed a pile of tissues, bent to clean up the floor, and tossed the mess into the toilet. No way was he taking a chance Katia might go through the trash, snooping on his actions.
Making quick work, he flushed, brushed his teeth, and put on clean underwear, sweatpants, and a T-shirt. This was as unclothed as he permitted himself to be when he was alone with Katia. On the show, he frequently wore nothing but swim trunks because apparently that was the extent of the clothing budget for the damn show. Since they’d moved into this apartment, however, he’d switched to behaving more normally, as in wearing actual clothing.
The moment Tuck opened the bathroom door, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Katia was leaning against the frame. She was wearing nothing but one of her two thousand negligees and a thong. Not unusual. “Sorry,” she murmured, biting her bottom lip playfully as if fighting a giggle. “I was just about to knock and make sure you were okay.”
Sure she was.
He frowned as he skirted around her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She shrugged as she turned around with him and followed him toward the bed. “I don’t know. You were just in there a while.”
He was not. She was full of shit. If anything, he’d been quicker than usual. He glanced at her as he grabbed two pillows from the bed and tossed them on the floor. Interestingly, he noted that he wouldn’t have any trouble with his cock in her presence. He was so not attracted to Katia that even thoughts of Jodi wouldn’t give him a hard-on while Katia sashayed around the room. The woman grated on his nerves.
“You don’t have to sleep on the floor, you know. The bed is plenty big enough for both of us.”
He opened the closet and grabbed the pile of blankets he used for this arrangement every night, unfolding one to stretch out over the carpet. The other he would use over his body, more to add another layer of protective barrier than to keep from getting cold. In fact, he lowered the thermostat every night just so he wouldn’t swelter.
He glanced at her as he lowered to the floor and settled on his back. “Seriously, Katia, are we going to have this conversation again?”
She pouted, something she had perfected that was also grating on his nerves. “It’s just so silly. I mean, we’re married. And even if we aren’t desperately in love with each other yet, that doesn’t mean we couldn’t…you know…have sex.”
He groaned. “Katia, stop it. We’re only married because we’re greedy. We’re filing for divorce in twenty-seven days and six hours. And I’m not sleeping with you.”
She took a step closer, running her hands over her body as if she were in a lingerie commercial. Even her temptress act did nothing for him. He simply didn’t give a single shit that most men would probably die to sleep with this apparent beauty. She did nothing for him. Hadn’t from the moment he met her. She was shallow and annoying. Especially when she was trying to seduce him.
“Don’t you think we would sell our act better for the camera if we really were fucking?”
“No. Go to bed.”
“But I’m lonely,” she whined. “I haven’t had sex in—”
He threw out a hand. “Don’t finish that sentence, Katia. Watch it. I don’t want to hear the answer, and you don’t need to lie to me.”
Her eyes shot wide. “Why would I lie?”
Because you’re so good at it that it’s part of your life. Hell, half the time she probably didn’t even know she was lying. She’d convinced herself she was telling the truth.
Jodi was probably right when she suggested Katia was cheating. She certainly had been while they were still on set at the beach house. Why wouldn’t she be now? He simply did not give a single fuck either way.
Chapter 5
“What has your panties in a wad today?” Tuck asked Jodi as he hip butted her where they stood behind the bar. He’d arrived an hour early. He’d been coming in earlier and earlier than the time his shift started for the last seven days. He told himself it was because he was a prompt guy. That he would do anything to spend less time with Katia.
He didn’t willingly admit to himself it was because he enjoyed every second with Jodi before the bar opened. Time when no one else was around. Sure, sometimes her father popped in and out, but the man made himself amazingly scarce as soon as Tuck arrived. Tuck was pretty sure Bill fought a chuckle as he left the room, heading to the back office as if he had some pressing papers that needed looking over.
Jodi shot him one of his favorite looks—her killer glare, the one he knew meant she was pissed or pretending to be. He hadn’t yet nailed down the difference yet. “How old are you? Panties in a wad?”
He chuckled, loving this banter. When she didn’t answer his question, he leaned closer, trying to catch her eye. “You gonna tell me why you’re in a mood? Did the accounting not add up? Did you forget to stock enough vodka for the night? Did your boyfriend break up with you?” He knew none of those things were true—well that last one he sincerely hoped wasn’t true—but he liked when he shocked her into a full gasp.
Wait for it…
There.
She gasped loudly and then glared harder, eyes narrowed farther, the more intense expression than the one she used when she was truly angry, or wanted to appear to be. Again, he didn’t have that one nailed down yet either. “There is nothing wrong with my accounting, Tuck.”
He smiled, lifting a brow. His mind wandered to thoughts of kissing the sense out of her until she softened, something he wanted to do more and more often every time he was near her.
He’d noted she was usually far surlier and more pissed off when they were alone than when the front door unlocked. As soon as the bar opened for business, she put on her happy face, real or fake. If he had less self-esteem, he would think she actually disliked him, but he didn’t lack anything in that department. He was betting heavily that she saved her wide range of frustrated emotions just for him. And he’d also bet he knew why. At least he hoped.
After all, Jodi glanced at him across the crowded bar at least as often as he glanced at her. He caught her staring at his chest frequently, biting her lower lip or dragging her tongue along it. He doubted she realized she did that, but it made his dick har
d.
“So, is it the vodka or the boyfriend?” he nudged.
She cocked her head to the side. “Neither. And you know it.”
He lifted a brow again, higher this time.
She spun away from him in a huff to straighten the beer glasses that were already in perfect lines.
He waited. Every day he watched her as she grew more and more tempted to ask him questions about the show. She never did. Not after that first day. He was pretty certain she had reached her breaking point.
“She’s hot.”
Yep. Bingo. “Who?”
Jodi rolled her head his direction, giving him her best are-you-dense eyes. “Your wife.”
He shrugged. “I guess.” He faced her, hip on the edge of the counter. He wanted to say that looks like hers weren’t important to him and tell her he wasn’t that shallow. He did neither.
She drew in a breath. “Your performance every night is confusing.”
“It’s supposed to be.” He grinned wide. “Glad it’s working.”
“How can you stand her voice though?”
I can’t. “Why do you watch if it’s so frustrating?”
Jodi took several shallow breaths, her hands folding and refolding the bar towel.
He wished he could yank the terry cloth out of her hand, spin her so her ass was against the bar, and then pin her in with his hands resting on the counter on both sides of her. He would give anything to press his body into hers and kiss her so hard and long she couldn’t think.
He couldn’t do anything like that, of course, but he wanted to.
Finally, she glanced to the side again. “You really aren’t going to tell me anything, are you?”
“No.” He stepped closer, taking a slight chance, letting the tips of his fingers touch hers. “I would if I could. But I have a contract that says I’m not permitted to discuss the show with anyone, and more importantly, there’s a lot of money at stake.”
She nodded slowly.
“That may sound shallow to you, but I need that money.”
“What for?” This time her brow furrowed in concerned curiosity.
He pursed his lips and inhaled slowly. “I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”
She flinched slightly, pressing the tips of her fingers against his as if she were unaware of their contact. “Because of the contract?”
“Because it’s personal. The producers don’t own every piece of me. I maintained a small shred of privacy.” Barely. He had gone around and around with them over this issue when they’d offered him the extra three months. Eventually, he’d won. Thank God. No way did he want cameras delving into the one sacred part of his life he wasn’t willing to share.
She leaned back.
“It’s not illegal, Jodi. It’s just personal.”
She nodded again. “Okay,” she said softly. “Is that where you went Tuesday and Thursday morning before you came here?”
He gave her a gentle smile. She must watch him every waking moment. “Yes.”
“I see.” She stood up taller. “Will you tell me one thing, please?”
“Depends…” He wished he could tell her all the things.
“Do you have sex with her when you close that bedroom door?”
His heart pounded. Jodi cared. She cared a lot. He’d known her one week, and she was just as into him as he was her. He was strapped, however. He tried to think of the best way to answer her that wouldn’t break his contract but would give her hope. “What would you like my answer to be, Jodi?”
She stared at him, her face a new one she hadn’t shared before. One filled with uncertainty and vulnerability. “I shouldn’t have asked. It was dumb.” She shifted her gaze back at the towel and the spot where their fingertips touched.
“Jodi.”
She hesitated and then lifted her face again. She looked kind of sad.
“I’d give anything to be able to answer your questions. All of them. And I will, in twenty days. Every single one. Okay?” That was more than he should have said. All he could do was pray she would keep their interactions to herself.
The corners of her mouth lifted briefly as she blew out a breath. “Twenty days is a long time to watch you playing house with a blond model who rarely wears any clothes and flings herself at you every time you come through the door.”
“I know.” He was asking a lot. He wasn’t even asking anything at all. There were no question marks at the end of his phrases. Everything between them was unspoken.
Jodi inched slightly closer, her fingers threading between his, increasing the contact. “I should stop watching.”
“You should.”
“I won’t though.”
“I know.”
“Twenty days?”
“Yep.” Not one single moment longer.
“Isn’t there a season finale that day?”
“Yes.” It ought to be a doozy too.
She held his gaze, licking her lips as she did so. “We should unlock the front door.”
He nodded. “Will you put on more clothes and stop trying to play detective?” he teased, knowing his daily request would go unheeded, and she would switch back to one of her fake frustrated moods, breaking the intensity of their interaction.
“Nope.”
“Figured.”
As she slid her hand away and then headed toward the door, he watched her. He loved the way she moved, so comfortable in her skin, so casually. Nothing about her was fake or pretentious. She was just Jodi. The smart, sexy, funny woman he was falling for more every day. A woman who was forced to spend her mornings watching him play house with a fake wife who made his skin crawl more with each passing hour.
Twenty days was a damn long time. It seemed like a lifetime. Why the hell did he have to meet a woman who made him want to be a better man while he was in the middle of the weirdest three months of his life?
Jodi brought light to his otherwise dim world. He’d been dragging his ass ever since leaving the SEALs. At least Cold Feet had forced him to stop moping. But now he’d gone from worrying all the time about finances and his mother to blocking out every one of his issues for at least a few hours every day while he interacted with the only ray of sunshine he could have asked for.
Even when he wasn’t specifically talking to Jodi, he was always aware of where she was in the room and what she was doing. He did so partly because he felt responsible for her protection, but mostly he just liked being near her. He liked looking at her. He liked watching her laugh or frown or joke or have a serious conversation with a customer.
Jodi. Damn. He wanted her. He didn’t deserve her, and there was a good chance she wouldn’t survive the next twenty days waiting on him, but he prayed he might get lucky. If she thought things were crazy and intense so far when he was with Katia, she had no idea what the coming weeks would bring.
He didn’t really know either, but the stakes kept getting higher. There would be bigger fights on camera. Crazier makeups. More intensive fake interactions with his fake wife in his fake apartment.
Hell, he wasn’t sure he could weather the storm and come out of it breathing, let alone expect Jodi to. And she had to do it with no information. All she had was hope. She hadn’t known him long enough to put that much faith in him. Would it be enough?
Chapter 6
“Please tell me you’re not watching that YouTube shit again.”
Jodi jumped in her seat at the sound of her father’s voice, jerking her gaze from the computer screen to watch him walk across the kitchen toward the refrigerator. “Jesus, Dad. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She pulled off her headset and set it next to her mouse. “And it’s not on YouTube. The show has its own app and website.”
He grunted as he grabbed the juice and came to the table. “Whatever. If you didn’t spend every waking hour engrossed in that stupidity, you would have heard me coming into the kitchen.”
“You’re exaggerating,” she lied. “Besides, I would think you’d w
ant to know more about your newest employee too.”
He poured a glass of juice and lowered onto the chair opposite her. “We have several employees. I don’t ask any of them what they do when they’re not here. Liz, Jacob, Stan, Roxie… You following all of their social media religiously just in case they say or do something you don’t like while they’re off work?”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“It just is.” She was digging a deep hole here. Her dad was right. She was obsessed. It wasn’t healthy.
“Go for a jog. You used to run every morning until Tuck walked through the door.”
He was right about that too.
He sighed. “Look, I wasn’t born yesterday. I see the way you look at the man. I get it. You’re gaga over him. And I don’t blame you. He’s quite a package. But,” her dad lifted a finger to make his point. “No matter how real or fake that stupid show is, he’s still married. You watching a play-by-play of his daily interactions with his wife is going to give you an ulcer. He’s not yours.”
She took a deep breath. “I know that,” she murmured.
“He has two more weeks in his contract. I hate to see you spend all that time watching his every move on a stupid live feed. You can’t unsee that stuff. What if he does end up leaving her? How are you going to erase the visuals of the two of them together that will remain burned in your head forever?”
Jodi nodded. Why did her dad have to make so much sense?
“People have lots of relationships in their lives. Most of us don’t have the ability to watch a play-by-play of our partner’s previous relationships.” He shuddered. “It’s weird. I was married to your mother for forty years. I dated a few girls before we met. She dated a few guys. We didn’t discuss it. I never saw pictures of her previous boyfriends. I didn’t show her pictures of my previous girlfriends. I burned them after I met your mother. Thank God we didn’t have videos or internet or social media. Nothing was frozen in time. I can’t imagine how our relationship would have ever gotten off the ground if she had been able to sit all day and watch every detail of me with my old girlfriends. No one should be able to make those kinds of comparisons. It’s not natural.”