Page 9 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
“Um, what?” I laugh but immediately stop when the focused expression on his face remains.
“No one knows I’m staying at this motel, but it’s only a matter of time before they find out. Someone—one of the receptionists or the housekeeping staff or another guest—is bound to notice me. Or one of the people who’ve been trying to chase me down in town will catch up to me and my hideout will be blown. But no one will know I’m staying with you.”
I’m speechless as he gazes at me expectantly. Is this guy serious?
“It can be a work trade. I help you renovate your house in exchange for safekeeping.”
My mouth hangs open as I soak in everything he’s saying. He’s serious.
I hold my hand up. “Hang on a sec. I was kidding, Lewis. I don’t actually think you should hide out in my grandparents’ home.”
“Why not? It’s a pretty brilliant plan. Plus, it’s a win-win—we both get what we need.”
I sputter at what is happening right now—this TV heartthrob is seriously making a case for hiding out at my house.
“First of all, it’s a mess,” I say. “It’s just me in that house right now, and even I’m having a hell of a time trying not to hurt myself by tripping over paint cans and errant light fixtures.”
He shrugs. “Like I said, I used to be a contractor. I know what it’s like to navigate the mess. I could do it in my sleep.”
I’m stunned speechless yet again.
“What if I paid you?” Something behind his eyes turns fiery, pleading almost. “A million bucks to let me stay at your house, just for the next three months. Until the bad press dies down, then I’ll head back to LA and I’ll be out of your hair. You’ll never have to see me again.”
My jaw unhinges as it falls open. “What the—Are you seriously trying to bribe me?”
He jerks back at my response. “No! God, no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, just that... I’d be more than happy to pay you to let me do this. I would never expect you to do this for me without being compensated.”
Compensated.
Something about that word sits like a rock in my stomach. Is this how he lives his life as a rich and famous celebrity—offering insane amounts of money for random favors? I could never fathom doing that, even if I had that much money.
“I’m not taking any money from you.”
He holds up both hands, palms facing me. “How about I fix up your house, then? Free of charge.”
I sputter out a laugh. “This cannot be real.”
“I’m one thousand percent serious, Harper.”
“Even if I were to say yes to such an outrageous proposition, there’s no way you could do the reno job yourself. The place is a disaster.”
“I’ve worked on skeleton crews that did the work of twenty people in half the time. I’ve worked from sunup to sundown on jobsites to finish houses in record time.”
He speaks with that sure, resolute tone once more.
“At least show me the place—let me see what state it’s in,” he says, his tone softer. “Please?”
The wordsno waydangle off the tip of my tongue, but against every instinct I have, I swallow back the words and actually think about what he’s proposing. There’s no way I’m taking any money from him, but I can’t deny that his offer to fix up my grandparents’ house would be freaking awesome. I should at least think about it.
I face forward and put my car in gear.
“Okay, I’ll show you. But no promises.”
Chapter Three
Harper
Lewis Prescott paces around my grandparents’ living room, and I have to fight the urge to pinch myself.
