Page 69 of #Starstruck

“I know it’s your job,” I said in a resigned tone, recognizing my own irrationality.

“Where is all this coming from? You’ve seen me kiss other people before.”

“Yeah, but that was different. That was before ...” I didn’t finish my sentence.Before you were mine. “It’s just hard.”

“I know it is, babe. And I’m sorry. It’s weird. But I love my job, and I’m good at it, and I want to keep doing it.”

Did he think I wanted him to quit? “I would never ask you to give it up.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I just hope you can find a way to be okay with it.”

With a sigh, I sat down at the kitchen table, holding my forehead in my hands. “I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“It’s kind of nice. The jealousy thing.”

“You won’t think it’s nice when I’m boiling Amelia Swan’s bunny.”

He laughed, and I knew things were okay again. “You still planning on coming over tonight?”

Chase had mentioned yesterday he had a big date planned for us, along with some surprises. “Of course.”

“Good. Because now that we’ve had our first fight, you know what that means. The make-up hug is going to be amazing.”

I brought Chase some of my anger-induced cookies, and he showed me his surprise. He’d hired a famous television chef who was known for his love of swearing to give us a private cooking class. The chef turned out to be a total sweetheart and attempted to teach us how to make pan-seared chicken breasts, rosemary mashed potatoes, and green beans with almond slices. We didn’t get cussed out once, and there were only two minor mishaps involving fire, so I counted that as a win.

Chase walked the chef out, and when he came back into the kitchen, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged him. “You don’t have to keep doing stuff like this. It’s so sweet and thoughtful, but being with you is impressive enough for me.”

His arms were around my waist. “I’m just trying to ...”

“What?”

“I told you, this is why actors have writers,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “You’re different. And special to me. I want to show you that.”

My heart grew ten sizes bigger. “You don’t need a writer. That was pretty perfect. So, what else do you have on the agenda for this evening?”

He twisted his mouth to the side and raised his eyebrows as if thinking hard. “Strip poker?”

I just shook my head. “I don’t even know how to play regular poker.”

Chase shot me his best leer. “Then most definitely strip poker.”

He laughed when I smacked his arm, then he gave me that blinding grin that always made my knees buckle. “I do have something planned. But I have to give you something first. Stay here.”

He ran upstairs, and I put some of the dishes in the sink and filled the burned pans with water. Next time I saw Sofia, I would ask her the best way to clean them, because I hoped there were more burned pans in our future.

“Close your eyes.”

I put my hands over my eyes and turned toward the sound of his voice. “So ... I don’t know how you’re going to take this ... uh ... the thing is ....see? I do need a writer.” He let out a little laugh before continuing. “But I don’t want you to think this means something it doesn’t ... and ... I ...”

Now he was starting to make me nervous. “Consider the suspense built! Can I open my eyes?”

“Okay.”

I blinked a couple of times in confusion. “You’re giving me a board?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The board was about six feet tall and had grooves on one end, like the edge of a saw blade. Chase seemed so excited about it that I realized how rude I was being. “Oh. Thank you?” I hadn’t intended for it to sound like a question.

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