Page 20 of Fake Married to the Grumps

Ethan’s laugh ends with a smile before he gently tucks a wet strand of hair away from my face. “That was amazing, wasn’t it?”

My heart topples faster than ever, and I can’t find words for a while. “Yeah,” I dart the tip of my tongue over my lips. “Haven’t had that much fun in years.”

We’re engrossed in the moment now, staring deep into each other’s eyes as the thud of my pulse drowns into the background. My eyes drift slowly to Ethan’s lips, and the memory of our kiss floods my mind.

“We should make videos and take pictures of this time,” I suggest as the heat spiraling through me starts robbing me of my senses.

“Yes,” he mutters, the same breathlessness in his tone before he moves away from me.

We walk back to the beach chair where our towel and sunscreen lay, and Ethan grabs his phone first to take a couple of selfies of us together.

“This rocks,” he shows me the goofy picture of us together. Once Ethan posts it and tags me, my phone starts beeping numerous times.

We both laugh as we check the comments under his post. “Now we have the world talking,” I comment, and Ethan shrugs before he turns to me.

“We might as well give them more to talk about.”

“I agree.” I hook my hand in his and join him in the changing room.

During the rest of our time together on the island, we made sure to capture every single moment.

We spend time at the resort’s spa, then go on a day’s hiking trip from Anse des Flamands to Anse de Grand Fond.

Every second we spend together on the island is magical, and I wish it wouldn’t end. At least not soon.

***

After the week we spent at St. Barts, we return to LA and it’s back to business.

Ethan has a couple of events to attend out of town that weekend, and once he’s back, we attend a charity function at the Getty Center.

“You look beautiful,” Ethan murmurs to me as we pose on the red carpet for the flock of eager photographers clamoring to get a picture of us together.

His right hand sits around my waist as he tucks me closer to his side. I plaster on a smile, aware of the flush that creeps over my skin when he presses a kiss to my cheek for the cameras.

I hike my chin and turn to meet Ethan’s gaze while trying to ignore the bright flashes of camera lights in my eyes.

“Isn’t it weird? How interested these guys are in your personal life?” I question when he leads me away from the red carpet. The event’s host is already addressing the crowd as we enter the hall, and I hold my purse tightly in front of me, keeping my chin high as I scan the crowd.

“It’s like they all want a piece of Ethan Everhart. It has to be exhausting, even for you.”

“I’m used to the attention,” Ethan answers before he adjusts his bow tie. “We’ll be making a huge donation as a couple tonight, just to prove that we’re really partners now, you know.”

“Can’t we just give for the sake of giving to charity?” I counter, eyeing him as he smiles at some other guests and waves at others. Ethan embodies the celebrity role with ease, and it’s not unusual that he’ll feel more comfortable with the crowd watching than I would.

An applause erupts when the chairman of the event takes the stage to give a speech. My gaze wanders around the hall then and lands on an unexpected face.

“Oh boy,” I mutter, and Ethan turns to me. He raises a brow in question, and I shift my eyes away from the man I spotted when I notice him approaching us.

The last time I saw Patrick Cross was the day we broke up. Our relationship had been great for a while, but Patrick accused me of not being entirely into him and ready to make things serious after he asked me to move in with him.

“You okay?” Ethan asks, as I recall the end of that relationship with a wistful sigh. Patrick hadn’t been wrong. I had hesitated to move in with him after he offered because a part of me knew he wasn’t the one. It just didn’t feel right. I hadn’t fully opened up my heart to Patrick back then.

“Ethan,” I clear my throat a little. “The man walking over to us right now … We dated while I was in business school, and we broke up before my parent’s car crash. I think he’s coming to say hello.”

“Oh,” Ethan breathes out, and I notice the brief tightening of his chin before he adds. “I can handle your ex, Nelly.” An incredulous look is on his face. “What would you like me to do? Play it cool or be a jealous husband?”

“Just be yourself.”

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